Winding down the way back home!

Life flows by faster than the waters of the Ganges, fortunately not so turbulent now possibly because it has reached the plains and called for a more mature outlook on life now that I am a grandmother. The memories of a happy childhood are once again flowering in me, thanks to my school friends in the whatsapp group! Delhi, the city I made my home, looks washed and decorated with bright green leaves, washed clean after the rains, with Shivamalli flowers, that used to be carpeted at the entrance to our home in Kerala, smiled and nodded their heads in recognition.

Two winters spent mollycoddling my grandchild, while heavy snowladen trees and cold winds blew outside, took me back to the hardships natives faced living in the Himalayas. Central heating was probably unheard in these remote areas. Eating food that gives warmth and sharing, spreading the inborn warmth among themselves and their cattle, made these people more warm hearted, I guess. We, the four sisters, continued our journey to the Himalayas in their company.

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Like young brides totally ignorant of the hardships of family life, we were led one early morning to the mules waiting for us. We were accompanied by tourists carrying heavy rucksacks that gave us a false sense of comfort and safety. The only sister, who had experience riding horses, was giving lessons on the manner in which a horse has to be managed. Bend forward when the horse climbs up and bend backwards when it climbs down, she said, but all that was soon forgotten as we struggled hard to keep ourselves seated while our movement was in total contrast to the movement of the mule. One guide for two mules being the norm each of us had - a guide either before or behind us. My guide being in front of me, the sister behind me had her guide behind her, such that she felt she had no guide at all!!! So she kept a constant tirade as to the totally irresponsible behaviour of the guides who seemed, according to her, have been paid preposterously large sums of money, for nothing at all!
On being asked how much further to the next loo stop, the prompt response was, ten minutes – dont you see that building there?....- till we soon realized that he was only trying to help us keep our sanity. After a grueling few hours of bumpy ride we reached the only spot where there seemed to be humanity and an excess at that, we soon realized! A watery meal of Maggi noodles was served as the ‘free lunch’ included in the rates and then back on to the mules for another four hours ride to nowhere – literally. The “loo” was in the open air and the less said about it the better! The foot wide path over round cobbled stones and overhanging cliff that jutted out just above our head made us hold on to the mule for life. At times the mules had to cross rivulets of which it appeared they were too scared. So they would come to a grinding halt. The guide would then leave us and go across to the other side and blow a whistle softly using his mouth. The mules would then go across and trot to the next steep climb catching us totally unaware!!!
 We reached a resting point where the elder sisters just collapsed and cried out that they could take no more. We were told that from that moment we could either go take a walk or return - Gaumukh or the source of Ganga being a few more kilometers up the rocky path. The area was more wide open with high mountains on all sides. The first snowflakes were falling on the peaks of the highest ones. Far away we spotted a few backpackers trekking their way to other paths. 

Blue skies with puffy white clouds and water guzzling at the foot of the mountains beckoned us and I did not need another invitation to follow my sister who was keen on achieving her ambition of reaching the source of Ganga. However as we trudged along it soon appeared that my sister, trailing far behind, also gave up and signaled to me to continue. Later I was told that, on the contrary, she had signaled to me to turn back! Anyway here I was happily boneweary but trudging along with all my strength following the footsteps of my hometown guide.

 I concentrated on keeping one foot ahead of the next and wondered at the silence and loneliness all around me. I could spot a mountain deer patiently chomping away at bits of grass that hid under the round stones and the sharp screech of an eagle made me look in its direction, soaring high up in the sky. Ahead of me there was no one and behind me too I did not find anyone. I was alone on the top of the world – all alone with nothing but the white clouds floating up above in the blue ether. 

Tears of joy or fear, I knew not and over which I seemed to have no control whatsoever, flowed down my cheeks. Was it tears of happiness or sadness I had no idea but my mind was full and overflowing. There did not seem to be any track – I kept tripping over round stones. I was thirsty and hungry but it did not seem to matter anymore. My mind was blank.

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Then far away I spotted the figure of a hermit’s shanty with its blue sheet flapping though the still air. It seemed to wave at me beckoning me to keep coming forward. Soon I reached the zero milestone and flopped on it. My guide who had gone still further – who had travelled the full distance only on foot – soon brought me water from the source of the Ganges. The sweet taste of the clean and pure Ganga water satiated my thirst. I felt that this is how it should be. No need to move from here. It’s a lovely place to be till the end of the world. No malls, no calls, no nothing – just a long wait!

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However I soon realized that my body was protesting and with a lot of effort and a few snaps to show my achievement I uncoiled myself, each joint screaming with pain. We both slowly made our way back to the spot where we had left the rest of the group but then there was no one there and no one in the base camp down below where we planned to spend the night. Confused we looked around to see two mules and one guide coming towards us and he appeared to be boiling with anger. It seems we had delayed him so much that it would be difficult to reach back before dark he grumbled as he strapped both of us on to the mules. Ahead of me was my guide in a white jacket, which was the only thing I could see in the dark after a few minutes. The rest of the journey is a blur as we galloped on the same track, round stones falling off as the guide or the mule slipped, reaching far down after a few agonizing minutes during which I realized the depth of the valley below. Once I nearly went over the mules head as he suddenly lurched downwards but managed to keep my hold.

In the pitch dark I could hear the tapping of the mule’s feet as it trot over the granite. High above me the stars were twinkling in the sky and if only I could, I would have been able to count them as the sky was clear and beautiful! Tired, sleepy and hungry my mind was numb and fearless. The white jacket ahead was all that was available to let me know that we were going on this hazardous journey. If any of the next generation had known what we were in for I am sure we would not have been anywhere near the Himalayas.
path strewn with boulders.JPGmountain deers.JPGA few hours later I suddenly heard someone shouting my name and then came across my sister, spread-eagled, held tightly by two young guys, shouting my name asking if I had reached. Our guide kept going even as I tried to make out what was happening and shouted that I am fine but whats with you???!!!! A sight I will never forget in my life. 
It transpired later that she had nearly gone for a toss and fortunately as it was the fag end of the journey there were people waiting to help them get down and I had spotted her even as she was stopped from falling. 
The way back home was comparatively less adventurous though we did cut across the mountains to Tehri, passing more villages and beautiful panoramas, seeing daily life as the mountaineers faced it in a stoic manner as the few glimpses below indicate.carshop.JPG

Organically grown vegetables old on the wayside caught our attention and the car was loaded with it much to the disgust of the chauffeur who could not comprehend our attraction for buying what he considered as just home grown “sabji”.
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In contrast to city-bred mothers who are reluctant to carry their own babies we found buffalo babies and lambs being lovingly carried around.
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School kids seems to have a tough time reaching their destination. 
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And local Himalayan weeds were seen being taken over by parthenium grass, indicating how far the cancer of progress was advancing.
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