By Savitri Narayanan
Amrinder looked around the bustling dining hall. The fifteen odd men around were a group for a trekking expedition in the Himalayas, a ‘Himalayan experience’, as they termed it. Most of them were new to the mountains. Being Rotarians, they often met in the club premises for various events so had a nodding acquaintance.
But Amrinder, who worked in their front office, and his friend Ramgopal, who looked at the computers, were the ones who brought them all together to plan the ‘Himalayan experience’. Both had family connections in the Himalayas. Amrinder’s grandfather was from Nainital. Though the family migrated two generations ago and made Lucknow home, they continued to visit their relatives in Nainital. Being in the army, Ramgopal’s father had several postings on the borders. Though he stayed in Lucknow with his mother and grandparents, Ramgopal felt equally at home up there. Once in a while, both would pack their bags, board a train and go up to the mountains for days!
Influenced by the duo, over the months, the Rotarians too got interested and the trek plan, ‘Himalayan Experience’, took shape.
“Shall we start the briefing, Shivramji?” asked Amrinder.
Shivram Bhatt was their team leader, the guide. He hailed from a village near Simla. Amrinder and Ramgopal had met him during one of the treks. Shivram Bhatt turned into a tour operator, set up an office and guided umpteen tourists and teams.
“Time for action,” Ramgopal said. “They’ve finished breakfast, what are we waiting for now?”
“Relax, you both, we’re in no hurry,” smiled the guide. “Let them unwind, relax, take it easy! Tell me, they’ve been following instructions, right?”
The ‘instructions’ were for them to walk six kilometres daily without fail!
It was Ramgopal who replied in the affirmative.
“Trust me sir, they all have been jogging six kms daily.” I know because I’ve been jogging too.”
“Let’s go over the final plan, once more, before we address them.”
It was Amrinder who started, “Friends, meet Shivram Bhattji, call him our team leader or guide or by whatever name you like. Bhattji is a man of the mountains!”
The chitchat stopped instantly, the trekkers took their seats quietly and turned attentive listeners.
Shivramji sounded gentle and unassuming as he said, “I’m honoured to be with you in this ‘Himalayan experience’; this may not make sense to you from the plains but for those like me, these mountains are God!”
There was something in his tone that made the group of trekkers respectfully attentive to Shivramji. The dining hall remained quiet as he continued, “Here in the Himalayas, you cannot see God with your eyes but can sense His presence. In the coming days, as we trek exploring the mountains, you’ll have occasions to sense, to witness, the immense power of nature. Be respectful, humble and faithful, stay connected with God, right there in your mind.”
Silence prevailed as the idea was pondered over. After a while Shivramji spoke, “Today explore Simla on foot, a chance to get used to the high altitudes. The trek route we’ve planned is from here to Chhibba Ribba village, Alamgadh, Billoor meadows and then Parvati Kund. The return route is much easier, God willing we’ll be back from the trek right here next Wednesday afternoon. The golden rule is to always walk with a partner and of course stay with the group. God forbid, if you get separated or lost, don’t panic. The mountain people are helpful. Whomever you meet, ask for ‘Kaalimaata Temple’. They’ll guide you! It’s right behind this hotel!”
Amrinder was in his own world thinking how every time out trekking, the mountains seemed to reveal a different face. Cold and frozen, treacherous and slippery, dark and scary, heavenly with a golden glow – same mountain, many faces!
But that night at Billoor Meadows, they saw an unexpected face!
As planned, they had walked from Chhialbar and reached Billoor by evening. Tents were ready for their night shelter. Before dinner they had their usual meeting and briefing. They were to make an early start for a trek of about six hours to meet up at the same location where they started from. How good it would be to be back in the same dining hall with cups of tea and talk about their trek.
But the mountains had a different plan!
After a fill of steaming hot dinner, all had retired for the night.
Amrinder woke up to a loud sound as if a railway engine was roaring towards him. Frightened, he opened his eyes to complete darkness. The sound was still there. Wind was heavy, a hailstorm was on, snowflakes were flying all around. The tents were flown far away in the strong wind.
There was sky above and darkness all around except for lightning once in a while.
“Who’s there? Where’s everybody?” he asked aloud, “Can anyone hear me?”
“Ramgopal, Kiran, Chaman Kumar…”
Amrinder called aloud the names of his companion trekkers. No answer!
“Where do I go,” he started to walk with the thought. “Where’re the others? Are they safe?”
Amrinder called out aloud, but his voice was overpowered by the storm and the hail.
“What’s to happen, WILL happen,” thought Amrinder as he walked ahead. “God, keep my team safe.”
Amrinder had no clue what time it was. An occasional lightning bolt showed nothing but the snow and faraway pine trees. There was no familiar landmark, no signboard, where was he? Amrinder’s eyes couldn’t see, legs were tired, he could collapse any time.
‘Where am I going?’
As if somebody could hear his thought, came the question, “Where are you going? That too in the middle of the night?”
Delighted to hear a human voice, Amrinder collapsed.
* **
Ages might have passed before Amrinder opened his eyes! He was on a bed, tucked in warm blankets. Bright sunshine streamed in through the window. Where was he? Whose house was this?
He called out, there was no response.
Trying to get his bearings, Amrinder walked around the house. In the kitchen there was hot tea in a flask and cooked food in closed containers. With a cup of tea, he came out into the verandah.
Seated in a chair he tried to recollect the previous night’s incidents. Faintly he remembered being carried on someone’s shoulder. Who? Where?
There was nobody in the house! He was hungry, went in and helped himself to some roti and subzi. Back in the verandah, he sat pondering over what to do.
Just at that time they walked in through the gate which was open anyway. There were three men and a woman.
Amrinder was speechless as they placed the farm implements in the yard, washed their feet and came up the steps. They smiled in welcome, greeted with folded arms. The eldest man started the conversation, “Sir, hope you rested well! A thousand apologies, couldn’t stay back. There was work to be done in the fields, today itself. Hope you helped yourself to the food in the kitchen.”
“You left the house open with a stranger, i.e., me in it!”
“Yes, of course! And I’ve good news for you; most of the team members have assembled in the same hotel, just half an hour’s walk away.”
After a hearty meal with the family Amrinder took leave to join his team.
“Words are not enough to thank you for your hospitality,” he said, “You saved my life.”
With folded hands the host said, “Atithi Devo Bhava!” We’re blessed that we got a chance to be helpful to you, sir! Safe journey!”
(Savitri Narayanan is a retired educationist at present in Goa. A mother and grandmother, loves readig, writing and travelling.)
