TRAVELOGUE HIMACHAL PRADESH DAY 1-3

 *Travelogue Tunnel to Tunnel* - Day 1- 12 Nov 2020

Cruising at 90 Kmph with all due diligence of Traffic Speed Signs, I saw the cars  ahead braking with no tail lights!!! Bruce Springsteen was belting out Dancing in the Dark and I found myself virtually standing on my brake pedal with all 4 tyres screeching on the road littered with construction dust....

Welcome Delhi to Panipat road. The Green Mamba (Renault Duster) behaved as desired and the 4x4 helped to bring the car to a halt just before the bonnet would have been opened apart like a knife ripping the abdomen. The cars behind too managed well and after a few pleasantries with the elderly Jat bhai who braked as he had a mobile call, I scorched the Duster ahead. 

The pains of poorly managed construction are visible all the way till Bilaspur, Himachal Pradesh.  The woes of pollution have many culprits and the farmer's match stick being the easiest to blame as nothing can be done to him in any case!! If the construction is managed well and the dust around Delhi can be managed, it might help more to the cause. Our 15 year old technology wizard was excited to see a mountain soon as we turned Port (left) from Delhi towards Sonipat. He was jaded when told that it is the famous garbage dump of New Delhi which has still to find a solution. Maybe his generation would find when in power!!

We are now at Bilaspur for a pit stop for the night after  a 9 hour drive covering 375 kms. Green Mamba is secured for the night. Each moment is fleeting in life and one must find sojourn in what is available....

 

A light dinner of dal- roti will help to shape the game for tomorrow.

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Travelogue *Tunnel to Tunnel* Day-2 (13 Nov 2020); *Arrival at White Stone Cottages,  Tirthan Valley, Kullu, Himachal Pradesh*

Kenny Rogers, the legendary Country Music Artist, sang a heart touching song in 1979. It was called You Decorated My Life. The song has a mystical touch each time it plays for me. A couplet of the song says Then you added some music, Every note was in place. And anybody could see, all the changes in me, By the look on my face. Zing, the song goes past in the husky voice of the late legend Kenny Rogers.

The Green Mamba purred to life soon as the ignition key turned. As if she wanted to dominate the road to the next stop on this travelogue. She has barely felt the pressure of her pedals since 23 Mar 2020. The new wheels, the battery and it's engine were raring to perform. As we turned her right from the hotel parking, I could feel the engine asking for a ride and whoa she responded as I burnt the gas.

The roads curved, bent, climbed and descended. The wheels stuck firm and we zipped with thin traffic on the road. The roads are being shaped to develop a 4 lane highway from Chandigarh to Manali. There is big machinery cutting the rocks and making life easier for humans to travel to pleasure destinations.

A big machine was cutting a rock and the big boulder came hurtling down. The road supervisor was frozen and could not move. The big stone found another stone on its way and went past the supervisor's head opening a big gash! He fell down and the cloud of dust engulfed him. He lay dazed on the road and there were few vehicles plying at that time. His staff looked for help and a young local going towards the nearest town was flagged down for help. He was gracious and moved the man with him for the medical support. The safety norms to be followed at such remote construction sites merits a look by the authorities.

The road features changed to jagged looks and the Green Mamba sailed effortlessly on her 4x4 drive train gliding over the pot holed journey. The local drivers believe they own the roads and must be given due respect. We kept on driving at our comfortable speed giving way and racing at times to build the adrenaline.

A stop over at a roadside Dhaba and emerged the duo of Dhoni and Sachin!! Both were all cheered up and smiling as we took seats. Dhoni prepared fresh Omelette, Aloo Paratha and Maggi topped up with Tea. The chilled wind rose up from the valley and overtook us as we soaked in the Sun to enjoy the grub. A quick click with the duo and Green Mamba blazed on with all her front lights lit up. 

In a small town enroute, we saw a cracker shop. The 2 school girls helping their father were elated to show us the crackers. We picked a few green ones and all set to use them with the resort staff tomorrow to make their Diwali brighter. There are no noise makers and only some light creators.

After a run of 6 hours and a missed turn, the Green Mamba entered the pit stop premise to be parked next to another Duster of the resort. After months of being parked inside a basement, she is under a perfect blanket of stars- all dark and dusty but maybe happy at her journey where she ruled the roads of all kinds- clean, pot-holed and pebbled. 

We are settled in a cosy cottage with flowers all around us and River Tirtha flowing right behind the cottage. It's sounds are singing a lullaby far away from the sounds of passenger jets at Delhi. What a bliss with dropped temperatures and some fresh trout to give the much needed proteins.

And as Kenny Rogers had rightly sung in the heart warming lines- And you brought out the colors, what a gentle surprise, Now I am able to see, All the things life can be, Shining soft in your eyes.

Cheers and tomorrow awaits...…

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Travelogue *Tunnel to Tunnel* Day-3 (14 Nov 2020); *White Stone Cottages, Tirthan Valley, Kullu, Himachal Pradesh*

Deepawali, a festival of great importance and glamor at NCR, was getting eclipsed in the hazardous AQI conditions. This prompted us to drive out, find home stays and spend time with hill people. 

An early morning walk on the narrow hill roads with absolutely fresh oxygen built up the Diwali momentum. The Honeywell Car Purifier failed to pick up any number as the Green Mamba went through its morning start rituals before being washed with icy cold water from River Tirthan. A sumptuous breakfast and we walked into the river bed. We washed clothes next to the river to feel the icy cold water initially numbing the nerves but also making the blood flow through the veins. I took a dip inside the river and immediately found that my body temperature shot up, it was an amazing feeling as the flowing water danced around me. The Sun had built up and we sat on Field Chairs next to the river to soak in the Sun. The  sound of Tirthan River is all around us and the birds chirping makes it a pleasant experience. Two eagles emerged from their nest high up on the hill across the bank, flew casually and then soared up high. 

We walked through the village and met with local people. Ram was standing outside his yet to be named Cafe. He has 6 homestay rooms, is 26 years of age and eager to host people. I mentioned that I would be writing my experience and he wanted to host me for breakfast. I thanked him for his offer and complimented him for his clean cafe.

Down the road, the local dogs surrounded us. Prem Kumar was coming down the slope and said not to worry as these dogs like tourists. There has been no tourism since Corona came and they all are eager to welcome tourists. Prem works in the Electricity Department and walked alongside us. On the way, he mentioned about a homestay he has built for his son's business. His nephew is married to a German lady and she runs the Cafe next to the homestay Shanaya. We saw the well done up rooms and look forward to a future holiday/WFH from such locations. The Internet has its own boons too!

The local shopkeeper spoke about how his family survived Corona times. He earned close to INR 600 on an average before Corona hit. His orchard gave him some fruits and he dug into his savings. The Village Committee (Gram Panchayat) did receive some financial grant from the Government but it never came down to him or others. There was no free ration too! His family was optimistic to welcome tourists at the earliest and share their serenity with them to run lives. Vagaries of life but still happy people are all that we saw today.

The evening was lit up at White Stone Cottages. A young family from Maharashtra drove in and we all chatted as a few light crackers lit the garden to celebrate Diwali. There was no sweet as this travelogue has a week to go and we want to preserve the body chemistry. A light snack dinner, a walk under the watchful stars and we are closing down for the sleep as mercury drops further even as River Tirthan flows to cut the mighty boulders into pebbles. Nothing is permanent except change in this World. The Eagles too have returned to their nest and we intend to climb the steep hill early in the morning. No smog, no smoke, no noise and life is at a perfect juncture. Amen....

*(To be continued)*

https://photos.app.goo.gl/AhQuoXLavwkvMa2q8

The Free Birds

Visiting the narrow and cold lanes of Delhi’s Chandni Chowk to meet with maternal relatives was always exciting. These lanes are beset with history and its footprints. As a young student, these visits invoked an awe as the latest lessons of history covered in school would come alive. The doors of havelis, the windows just inches away from the other building’s windows, the shops lined along the narrow alleyways and the aroma of various cuisines was enchanting. The dialect used by the local residents had its own old-world charm.  

Climbing on the high roof top of the ancestral Haveli would give a panoramic view of the real estate spread from Jama Masjid till Lal Quila. On the roof top were pigeon houses where various colored pigeons were reared by our neighbors. With the opening of the pigeon trap doors, the birds would walk out giving those peculiar calls. A whistle from their captor and the birds would take off in the air. It was a sight to see the large flock taking off from those rooftops and piercing through the sky lined up with kites of various colors. These birds would fly in different patterns as their owners would alter the frequency of their whistles. They would change directions and cut across altitudes with seamless ease! 

The final camp in the National Defence Academy is called CAMP TORNA. This camp tests the all-round growth and skills of the cadets as their passing out day inches closer after the final Josh Run. The run at the end of the 4th day of the camp is a high-octane event. The victorious squadron etches its name in the history wall of the Squadron and achieves an eminent status amidst the junior courses. The Camp Fire on the penultimate day’s evening is full of bonhomie and drawing strategies for the next day’s run. We were told that the TORNA of our times was a modified one and the Josh Run would be close to 30 miles if map reading was perfect. In case of an error, the run would spiral out distances and the heat of the day would sap the runners in their full military regalia with rifles. 

It all depended upon the draw as to what sequence would the Squadrons commence their runs. The early morning muster to get the dress codes checked, equipment details inspected and winding up the camp equipment happened. All were set to go, and the draw of names took place at the first light. The spirits kept falling further as Squadron after Squadron took off with a 4-minute interval with their respective road run maps. Incidentally the road map also includes crossing hills and meeting with the designated monitoring Officers at various check points to collect the identification tokens and muster of the entire squadron strength. We 18 from the Foxtrot Squadron were the last to be flagged that eventful day and were already 50 minutes behind the first Squadron flagged off! The gun shot was fired, we took off in the direction indicated by the map reader. The last Cadet in the running column volunteered to carry the single Light Machine Gun and the Medical Stretcher both! He had the energy to withstand the 30 miles+ distance with almost 7 kgs extra weight than the 18 kgs each carried by the others. Thank God for the small mercies as the iron nail fitted shoes started the climb on the first mountain range emerging on our distance map. 

The birds of Uncle K took off from the roof adjacent to ours. He had 75 pigeons and the most beautiful was the ash red one with a design around its neck. The birds lifted effortlessly as if their fluttering wings were giving the lift off thrust to their bodies. They circled on the roof top and at far off roof tops the other punters had put their birds up the air too. The race was all set to become exciting. The whistles were blown, and the birds started cutting across the skies. The ash red pigeon was leading the charge of Uncle K’s flock and its wings majestically cut the medium of air. The rapid commands by respective punters and the birds cut rapidly to right, left and changed the altitudes. The kites flying in the sky were busy in their own games of warfare as if the honor depended upon the command of the sky. Amidst the kite fliers and the pigeon punters, another danger lurked on one of the roof top. He was holding an Air Gun which was his new and prized possession. The neighbors had never experienced this kind of challenge and he was lurking behind the raised walls hidden from the pigeon punters and kiters. 

Motivating each other, the Fox Cadets climbed the first mountain range and hit the first check point with dead drop accuracy. The smart Major manning the check point was standing tall in his camouflaged Uniform. Behind his Ray Bans his eyes went through the details and he complemented us for a quick arrival. He pumped us for cutting 10 minutes from the 50-minute lead and set us towards Check Point 2. The Sun had started beating down and the next range appeared ahead of us. In the distance we could see a stream of other Squadron Cadets and the adrenaline pumped itself as the 10-minute gain over the time pushed us harder. We were now focused on our next aim to scale the second check point and gain 5 more minutes! The heat was also going to hit its zenith and the swat had bettered our backs loaded with the military weights. 

The flocks of birds were now competing and scaling the heights with ease. The punters turned them into opposite directions as the little hearts inside the pigeons pounded for that extra energy. The flapping of their wings created various forces and occasionally a bird would spear its wings to catch distance using the flapping of other birds! The red pigeon was clearly visible amidst the hundreds that flew that day. The lurking gunner waited for his chance. His shining air gun in his hands and he loaded the metal pellet into the gun’s chamber. He had the entire sky to himself. He trained his aim on a kite fight where a bright yellow kite was in a pitched battle with a blue kite. The kites were being deftly handed by their respective players and the shot of the air gun rang through the sky. The pellet created a hole in the Yellow Kite and the air crossed through the torn paper. The hole grew bigger as the kite flier tried to control its wobble and the blue kite ripped through the thread of yellow kite as it became taught. The yellow kite faded through the sky even as the blue kite team celebrated little realizing that the Air Gun had a hand at the game. The Yellow Kite team climbed on their roof walls to locate the miscreant, but he was safely hidden behind the walls of his roof with a mischievous smile on his face.  

The Sun never stops its climb and the Fox Cadets overcame the challenges of their body pain and agony to keep scaling the check points to cut the timings. The 1.5 Litre water bottles were getting empty and were rapidly replenished at Check Points and even from mountain streams.  At the 5th Check Point, the Fox Cadets arrived a few seconds earlier than the Squadron left at the 5th position. We knew that the game was tilting in our favor if we ran well for the last 3 check points after the 5th. The Military Muster is a unique exercise. All Cadets must stand erect with their line and column formation, make a report to the Officer-in-Charge and get their items checked. All was in order and the flag was raised to move towards the 6th Check point. 20 miles had been covered and the clock was striking 11 am. Mountain climbing is tricky as one false turn and the entire hill needs to be circled. Our map readers and the LMG/Stretcher carrier were going strong. The squadron line was not spreading as we were running with a plan to keep everyone in line of sight. The weights pounding against our back and thighs had started to hurt creating lesions and the iron nailed shoes were wet inside as the thick woolen socks had by now lost their shape and position- the blisters were itching to come out. No pain, no gain was the cry and we knew that all the squadrons would be fighting with similar symptoms. At the second last check point, the same Major of the first check point re-appeared. He applauded the spirit and said that he too was from our Squadron. This lifted our morale and we vowed to give in our best as the last few miles remained. He took off in his jeep and we started to move our aching bodies on the tar road by now radiating heat at its peak. 

The gunner had now hit his first aim. He now craned his neck to locate a pigeon amidst the hundreds in the air. The red pigeon caught his eye and fancy. He loaded the pellet and took the aim. He waited as the birds flew in rapid sequence and the cross hairs of his air gun kept the pigeon in sight. The whistle prompted the birds to change the direction and the red pigeon appeared in his front. He waited as the furious flock of birds crossed his roof and fired. The pellet ripped through the red pigeon and his flight stopped as it fell into a mangled heap on another roof. The falling of the bird was seen by the punters and they went berserk in their whistle calls to draw the birds back to their homes. The birds knew that one amongst them was lost and their senses misbehaved. The landings were not uniform. Uncle K counted 90 birds as they hurriedly landed to get inside the shelter of his traps and feasted on the food and water. The flight had ended for the day. The gunner slowly slipped by along the walls of his roof loving his prized new Air Gun which had performed for him. Uncle K and his competitor waved at each other to call it a day and counted victory based on landings. The loss of Red Pigeon was forgotten amidst the count of 16 new birds landing inside a new trap abode. The enemy still could strike but it would be seen on another day, another flight. Uncle K knew that the culprit would be caught sooner or later as the word would spread amongst the punters.  

The Bombay Stadium is the last check point for a camp run. The Fox Squadron and the Echo Squadron entered its gates almost together despite being the last two at the flag off early morning. The Cadets were completely drained, and the lesions coupled with blisters at their feet was a sure discomfort. The Major was waiting to take the muster and the military drill was to be followed. Both Echo and Fox were tied up in timings and the challenge now was to keep standing straight in the sweltering Sun as the kits were checked for completeness. The Major had the responsibility to declare the winner and the trophy would be home. The neatly laid out kits, the rifles, the Light Machine Gun, the casualty stretcher were all in order, but Fox had a mess tiffin spoon short! It must have slipped at some point of the run and the lost 4 inches long stainless-steel spoon was now the deciding factor between a winner and the runner up. The Major had a word of encouragement for the 2 Squadrons, their map reading skills, the will to run as a team, the LMG carriers and the minor difference which was the deciding factor despite same timing. He declared Echo Squadron as the winner and the Fox Squadron came the Runner-Up. The flock of 18 cadets had been bonded for life though they were all set to disperse in next 5 weeks to their respective training before getting commissioned into their respective Services. They had understood the value of ethos, integrity, honesty, courage, camaraderie, esprit de corps and the ability to choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong! They still get together after all these decades and live to remember the great run that they clocked together. 

Uncle K got on to the roof and opened the pigeon cage gates. The birds walked out and, on the whistle, leapt into the sky for yet another flight across the skies. The gunner awaited his chance hidden behind the walls of his roof top. The adjacent roof tops were bursting with onlookers but there were some who were trying to locate the gunner! A shot rang from the air gun and the location was identified. The game was over for the gunner and the birds were free to fly again!  

The flock lives to this day for both the cadets and the pigeons. A new set is ready to take the skies and another set of Josh Runs would be going on this year. The wheel moves, cheers!