A Holiday to Remember - IV

A debate

Before R agreed to my proposal we had a small debate. Her point was that - as per our family holiday plan we were going to Haridwar with Budi, then why sacrifice staying at Dehradoon for a day and why not visit Kempty falls too? But within my heart, I was not prepared to bypass Ganga without a darshan in anticipation of a future plan. It could be childhood memories, when I had gone to the Parmat ghat with didima once and quite a few times with thakuma, who was a regular early morning bather. I had taken dip standing on the broad stairs along with hundreds of bathers. I don’t know when Ganga had disappeared from Kanpur and had drifted towards Unnao.

I remember, after my marriage when I had returned to my father’s house for the first time, and I had taken my new husband to the Parmat Ghat to have a glimpse of the Ganga. What a disappointment it was, my heart bled with anguish, when my hopes had come crashing…there was no trace of Ganga anymore. The temples, where we would enter after bathing to get a teeka from the priest, wore a deserted look. The bed of Ganga was lying bare, only with yellow sand. I stood there with a vacant look.

It fascinates me when I find Ganga having great likeness, with three stages of human life. Childhood stage - when it descends from the mountain, flowing over the gradients, sprinting, rippling, bubbling with energy, running swiftly, just like the truant child who either runs or falls but seldom walks, then the Middle course when it flows over the planes of Uttar Pradesh serenely, majestically, acquiring the personality of a settled middle age. And the Last Stage - when numb with carrying heavy loads of sand and mud, it becomes sluggish, breaking into hundreds of channels, before entering into the sea, creating the biggest bay of the world - our Bay of Bengal. Don’t we too become sluggish when we almost reach our house after a long walk? Feet not too steady - falling this way and that way - body swaying left and right. Well! I imagine so, you may not.

I knew if I argued with R on the strength of my secret desire, my argument will not stand, so I said – “let’s go Haridwar to make a survey of the hotels, where we could stay with Budi, as we both were quite sure that no posh hotel would accept Budi as guest.”

R saw some logic in my point and sat down to do what she does best, calling hotels, with the help of her guide book She was impressed with one hotel Siddharth, because the person on line spoke in smart English, which is some kind of a certificate in our country of things above the average. A double room booked, she informed that we were reaching Haridwar next day around 1 P.M.

Chottomama

One more job remained to be done - to inform chottomama.. A man of few words, he had left Kanpur for his medical studies in Calcutta when I was just a kid and from there to England. He had returned after many years armed with double F.R.C.S. and rich experience of working in British hospitals…A pucca sahib by temperament, I felt uneasy in his presence, though my chemistry with mamima was excellent. If I had my way I would have liked to give her a big surprise by knocking at her door unannounced.

Chottomama picked up the phone - "arre Umu!!"

Ashbi.. chole aae.. besh moja hobe..

I was relieved but R was not. They were complete strangers to her. She kept asking me questions about them to prepare herself mentally for the meeting.

Next morning we checked out of the Hotel Deep early. Porters were waiting outside to pick up luggage from the outgoing tourists. We hired a porter and came to ‘Clarks’ for an English breakfast of fried eggs, cheese sandwiches and tea. It took us about an hour. I could see our porter waiting outside fixing his gaze on us, shifting his legs from time to time, and surprise! He never grumbled about waiting for so long. His name was Jublee. We came to the taxi stand. Rates were fixed so there was no question of haggling. We hired a taxi upto Dehradoon only and planned to cover the distance from Dehradoon to Haridwar by bus. R wanted to give some extra money to Jublee but after depositing our luggage he had vanished like voo doo. We kept looking for him from the running taxi but he was untraceable. After coming down some distance our driver said he had put his mobile on charge and forgotten to collect that. We could see he was little worried.

“Would it be lost?” I asked.

No chance of losing he said and kept om driving. But I was thinking how can a person engaged in a business manage without his mobile, moreover, how will he focus on driving, his mind straying elsewhere?

Turn back

Why

For your mobile

I could see a big smile on his face and he happily turned the taxi to recover his cell phone. That was the beginning of a very pleasant relationship between us. He was a good driver and a good guide too. He pointed at a beautiful palatial building on the top of a hill. It was ‘komal palace’ belonging to the ex King of Nepal, King Gyanendra. And some anecdotes… once he was taking a newly married couple to Dehradoon, who had to catch a flight. In the midway he came upon a roadblock. Huge boulders had slid down the hills, obstructing traffic movement. His passengers became nervous for they were sure to miss the flight. But he did not give up, ran to the nearby village, arranged hammers, pickaxes and everybody got down to work .The road was cleared and his passengers reached the air port on time to catch their flight.. He made our journey really enjoyable by his easy and relaxed driving. What a contrast it was from our previous experience two days ago. He insisted on driving us down to Haridwar. So we abandoned our plan of traveling by bus. And reached safely.

A Holiday to Remember - III

Back to the hotel

It was a beautiful room. It had no front balcony but there was no need. The front wall was made up of glass windows giving an exciting view, freshly made bed with crisp sheets, rugs and a quilt. Quite inviting! Tired as I was from laboriously climbing steep inclines, I hit the bed to enjoy its luxurious comforts. I lay wondering how unpredictably the day had turned out. How disappointed we were with our last room and how gloomy the day had been. R had been cribbing about how that place had some hidden negative energy and how dramatically everything had changed. The golden sunshine had lifted up the curtain of haze, revealing the breathtaking beauty of the majestic mountains, the lush green valleys dotted with colorful tops of the residential houses. We also had a peek into the life of the local people. Children in school uniforms, carrying school bags trudging along the roads - local sherpas carrying loads or small children or old people in their trolleys - way side restaurants preparing to cater to the customers. orders… I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I heard was loud thumping on the door.

R entered, looking excited. She had been to a cyber café to cancel our return tickets. I felt like the earth was slipping away from under my feet. What was she up to?

How are we going back then?

We are free birds now, no tension… Ha Ha! Look MoD, aren’t we leaving Mussoorie tomorrow morning, or you want to stay one more day?

No need we have seen what we wanted to see - besides Mussoorie is not much of a shoppers delight

This means we have gained one extra day, so we have to reschedule our itinerary, for which we need freedom of choice.

So! What are you thinking now?

Let’s have tea first to ignite our dimag ki batti

Tea was ordered. R spread the goodies she had bought at the confectioner. Before leaving she had given me strict instructions to resist from tasting them before tea-time. She was making so much of fuss pouring tea… I was impatient.

R opened the tourist guide, to see what Mr. Ruskin Bond had to say about Kempty falls, an hour’s drive from Mussoorie. …Traffic snarls take away the fun of driving. Picnic spots littered with plastic bags make an ugly sight...

Enough of that, aren’t we called ugly Indians? We can not let the beautiful experience go sour.

More sips into the tea cups. R had a new brain wave.

See MoD, There is Malsi, a forest resort, 15 kms from Dehradoon, there is a deer park, a forest bungalow… A phone number is given, I am going to ring up…

The call was answered by one Mrs. Roy.

“Yes a double room is available” she said

Tariff?

Rs. 1200, per head for one night

Meals?

Only breakfast

And guided tour?

“At your own cost” she answered.

R not entirely satisfied, still asked to book a room for two, in the names of U. Dutta and R. Dutta.. “We will reach tomorrow morning around 11 AM.” And she hung up looking excited.

MoD, we will be in Malsi Forest resort tomorrow, Oh! How very exciting…she prattled

R. put me in deep thoughts...Isn’t tariff too high? Who will provide lunch and supper in the jungle? Are we supposed to carry our food too? And who will be our guide? Are we going with a group or alone? Will it be safe to go deep into the forest with people whom we don’t know? Who is Mrs.Roy?

My fear was not the animals, for they do not hurt unprovoked and are consistent in their behavior, it was humans, we can not trust, especially in India.

There had developed an unspoken, unwritten understanding between us… responsibility for one another’s well being and safety. What face would we show if anything happened due to any foolish action?

R, you cancel Malsi

Now? Mrs Roy, She will wait for us

Let her go to hell, goli mar do

O.K.

So what is the plan for tomorrow?

Let’s go to Haridwar, straight away from here, and halt at Rurkee at Chottomama’s for one day

Fine

R gave her assent. And then we had a hearty laugh at poor Mrs. Roy waiting for her guests. Our floating itinerary had now started taking shape.