The Unplanned Sunday Afternoon

This Sunday was not the day what I had planned to do. I had not planned to go out with the family to soak in the sunshine and visit the nature behind man-made blot. It just happened.

I was sitting with my cousin late night, chatting away, when one of her friend suggested that he take her out for a picnic to Lonavala, ‘Aamby valley’, he said and my antenna shot up to 20 feet, now I have wanted to see this town since a long time but somehow, it has never worked out therefore I decided to tag along if ever such picnic was to take place.

“Can I come along Didi, please?” I said and she smiled gently not confirming if we were to take this trip.

“We will decide in the morning, go to sleep now.” she said

I got up much early than my usual time. 6am is not the time I would opt to wake up on any day, and especially not on Sunday, but then this was not to be an ordinary day.

By 8am, the house was bustling with energy, more than 25 people showed up. We huddled into four cars and started our journey towards Lonavala.

Rainy season is the best time to make a trip to this place which is at the altitude of 620 m above sea level .The hills sing a melodious tune with waterfalls churning out through layers of rocks. Different shades of greens add sparkle to the landscape.

Our first stop was to Naryani Dham which is nestled in the valley. This temple with sparkling ivory white marble had carving even on the roof. The idols of Gods were decked with finest jewelry and brocade clothes that reflected rainbow hues when the lights of the chandeliers and spot lights were focused on them. The spotless and shiny walls had beautifully carved windows in marble. On the ceiling were the paintings of Krishna in his large chariot. Some beautiful designed motifs of colored stones, glass and mirrors decorated the entire upper walls. The building was still under construction, the railing of craved marble was being installed for support. I struggled to walk up the stairs and the volunteer stretched his hand to offer me the support and informed me that there was a separate lift to go up too. It was a cloudy day, as we emerged from the temple, we saw children enjoying the garden equipments and we were tempted too to enjoy a swing or two. We walked down the path which had water fountains along the way till we reached a bigger building which had 60 rooms with attached bathrooms for weary travelers. There were some cottages too behind the temple for people who would like to enjoy the nature for more than one day.   

After a short visit to this Dham we drove through the winding roads, into the deep narrow lanes which opened up into the vast plains and high up on the hill was the Shiva temple.My cousin is the devotee of Lord Shiva and I could see the glow in her eyes as we approached this temple. This was a carved stone structure, well maintained, which had a large black Shiv-ling dominating the centre of the dark room.  There was a  three-forked trishul and dumroo on one side of the black stone Ling. A beautifully carved metal pot hung from the ceiling which had the tiny aperture to the base of the pot. When the devotee poured water into the pot, it dripped drop by drop on the Ling bathing it. They offered rice and vermillion and sprinkled some flower petals on it. Then they sat down with eyes close seeking blessing. A pundit sat there guiding the devotees to the proper way to pray and offereing prasad to every devotee.

 

Next was our program to go to Aamby valley. We had only 8 passes to go to restricted Aamby valley, where one can go only by invitation, so while the rest of the group headed home, only eight of us drove through Bhushi dam and Tiger’s leap to the other side of the hills to reach the Aamby Valley.

 

Aamby valley is the man-made town in the midst of the hills. The architecture and design is worth the visit. The place is well maintained with manicured gardens and proper roads. This is the lonely town, where streets are empty, the privileged few who drove down the streets were crazy, perched on the roof-top or protruding half the body out of the window in the speeding car. At the lake, where we went for the boat ride, there was a loud music where the youngsters danced while waiting for a boat ride. The gardens and side-walks were continuously preened by local gardeners.

This is the town where greenery is restored in its virgin form, with the waters running through its soul, birds chirping freely and flowers have freedom to bloom

Cloudy trip over Tiger Hills in Darjeeling

Our group leader said “Wake up early morning if you want to see the most spectacular sun rise, we need to leave for Tiger hills at 3am and it will take 2 hours to reach the point.”


“Why must we wake up so early to see the sun-rise, I never do in Mumbai.?” I argued. I refused to go; I am always too lazy to wake up so early in the morning. “I will see sun-rise from my room window, why must I go to this tiger hill?” I grumbled.

But when you are in your tourist boots, no reasoning helps. My friends refused to go without me and they made sure to wake up at 2am, since they know that I never leave to go anywhere without a bath, so I needed one hour to dress up.

So here I was, grumpy at 3am, walking through the mist of Darjeeling towards the mini bus with the rest of the group

My sleep disappeared as soon as the bus rumbled its wheel through the narrow and broken path on the hills of Darjeeling and the cool breeze softened my moods and I started to enjoy the ride, bringing out my camera to shoot the picture of the scenery outside my vehicle window in the early hours of the morning, not that I could see much, but playing with my camera is one of the activities that helps me keep alert.

Bad morning!! It was raining. At five am, when we reached the ‘Tiger hills’, it was cold and wet. I didn’t take umbrella and my friend obliged by sharing hers. I bought a hot cup of coffee, it was good and refreshing. It was quite breezy and cold. We couldn’t stand in the open space in such weather. We moved towards a building and walked up the steps to a large room.

There were more than hundred people inside a small room, many of them sitting on the plastic chair facing the cloudy sky behind the glass windows. It seemed like they were sitting in an auditorium waiting for some musical performance.

I had no idea of what spectacular sun rise was I to witness, but seeing the enthusiasm on people’s face, I was sure that it must be something not to be missed. I saw some children with same zest too. What was I complaining? These kids didn’t seem to mind and they were equally ignorant about this sun rise show like I was, but they were not grumpy. Some of the adult sensible ones dozed off while waiting for the event. I envy those who can snooze off in most uncomfortable positions at any hour of the day.

It was raining outside. My grumbling grew worse. Group of men sitting in front of me were chatting about stocks and marketing. Men can talk business at any hour of the day!! They all looked beyond window periodically, hoping for the sun rise. Who says women are noisy...men are equally irritating too. I was getting impatient. Too many people inside the small room. I was finding it difficult to breathe in this closed room with so much crowd.

It was 5am and no promised sunrise. The sun is known to be punctual and can never forget to rise, but what does one do when it goes off in hide-n-seek mode? How do I push these clouds that are heavy and pregnant? It started to drizzle again, rain drops trickled down the window panes blocking our view but people continued to wait.

5:30 am and people finally came back to their senses and started to move. I walk over to window, slid the window-pane and clicked the scene beyond the horizon.

Cloudy sky was all that I could see.

Soon I heard the voice of a man selling CD shouting, “Sorry, you could not see the sun rise but want to know what you missed, then buy the CD-.Darjeeling..a tourist spot.”

Indians are very enterprising, they can sell their wares from any dungeon places. Many people started buying the CD, my friend bought one too.

I decide that I shall not waste my money to see what I missed.

Nah! I shall google it when I get back home

Back home, I googled for the sun rise in Darjeeling..Oh Wow! I missed this!!!!

“The first rays of the sun shoot ahead and shed light upon the twin peaks of Kangchenjunga painting it pink and then bathing it in a beautiful orange colour. From Tiger Hill, Mount Everest (29,002') is just visible, peeping out through two other peaks standing by its side. Makalu (27,799') looks higher than Mt. Everest, owing to the curve in the horizon, as it is several miles closer than Everest. The distance in straight line from Tiger Hill to Everest is 107 miles.

On a clear day, Kurseong is visible to the south and in the distance, Teesta River, Mahanady River, Balasun River and Mechi River, meandering down to the south. Chumal Rhi mountain of Tibet, 84 miles away as the crow flies, looks like a great rounded mass over the snowy Chola Range. One comes face to face with this peak of superb beauty from Phari Jong which is 129 miles away from Darjeeling.

I cursed the weather

It had spoilt the most beautiful sight that I was supposed to witness… I have missed it. I will have to make one more trip to Darjeeling to experience this moment.

I go to the balcony of my room window in Mumbai and show the fist to the other part of the sky.

"Grrrrrh!" I yell

Reading a book during my bus trips...

I am reading this book called ‘The Diary of a Social Butterfly by Moni Mohsin, which is quite hilarious and keeps me entertained. The author is a Pakistani and she has used lot of Hindi words (Uff! Itni main exhaust ho gayee hoon, na.) in the book to make it interesting with phrases such as ‘three-tiara cake’ ‘business typhoons’ or ‘slip into a comma….’ Excerpt from page 136: Imagine! The guts! And you know what he looked like? Like one of those clerks, all thin and reedy, who used to quietly, uncomplainingly work for hours and hours in Daddy’s outer office where there used to be only punkhas and no ACs. And now they’ve got cars! And tongues! As daddy says, “Bhutto has a lot to answer for!” Recently some one commented on my thread on a forum of writer's group: He writes - “I've noticed that these days, there are a lot of Indian authors trying their hand at writing, and unfortunately, many of them are really really bad...I only buy their books because I want to encourage Indian authors to write more and more, but their writing is so pathetic...” and now, he might even hold the similar opinion about Pakistani authors. But the fact is that everyday new styles have to be established and people will write what sells and this book is selling. People like to read ‘light stuff’ sometimes and we cannot call them ‘pathetic’ just because they write differently. It is good book to read in a bus trip, when the rush hours drive you crazy and the humor helps keep our sanity.