A little after sunset, we reached Rudraprayag. On our earlier trip in 2000, we had stayed two nights at Shangri-la, a small wayside hotel with a dhabaa. Unwilling to take the risk of driving upto Gaurikund, as per schedule, in the dark, we thought of stopping at Shangri-la. Idris was willing to drive, but preferred to stop due to lack of any help for the car for the next 87 kms, in case of an unexpected problem. My parents were willing to sit for 3 hours more, without dinner, even though dinner might not be available at Gaurikund due to the late hours of our arrival. We stopped, disregarding the full payment made for accomodation at Gaurikund.
Shangri-La had changed almost beyond recognition. The dhabaa was now a full-fledged restaurant. Another building had been added. Only the small Hanuman temple under an old banyan tree by the road was the same. Like last time, we greeted Hanumanji and sought his blessings for the journey. Shangri-La is a better place than Hotel Corbett, a little down the road and a more homelier option than Monal, some 5 kms outside Rudraprayag.
Like last time, we gathered all our used clothes for laundry and handed them over to the boys at Shangri-La, who arrange washing and ironing at Rudraprayag. The owner, as we knew him, was not to be seen and on asking I found that he would be back after some days. The same room that we had used in 2000, was available to us. And we had the luxury of a real bath, that too with warm water, since 05.10.06!
D had found out via smses to Mumbai that the moon had risen, but by the time I finished my bath, the moon had risen visibly at Rudraprayag too. We prayed and I broke my fast. ‘Welcome to our second honeymoon!’ my husband said, since we had labelled that journey in 2000 and especially the stays at Shangri-La as our first honeymoon, though we had got married in 1999. My husband and I had treasured the early morning view from the balcony of Shangri-La as one of the best mornings in our lives. We slept around midnight, dreaming of reaching Kedarnath the next day.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Idris, the saarthi
Idris had received standing instructions from me before he started the journey with us at Delhi, that he should always prioritise his needs over and above our schedule (he had a copy which I saw him studying several times): whether it was food, drink, waste elimination, rest or sleep. He was to stop the car for himself without asking or telling us and do what was required for himself, as his own master. And that we would just learn to adjust ourselves to him.
We had already found out that comfort mattered to him, he would not sleep in the car and swiped off a tidy amount of food without feeling sleepy, unlike our other drivers so far. We paid for his accomodation all the way and all his other expenses, so that he could save his daily expense money and keep it to buy something for the child his wife was expecting. We also found out that apart from stopping the car to stretch himself awhile, he never stopped the car for himself and adhered to the schedule as best as he could. He drove with the caution and respect required on Himalayan roads and enjoyed the trip with us as much as we did with him.
We had already found out that comfort mattered to him, he would not sleep in the car and swiped off a tidy amount of food without feeling sleepy, unlike our other drivers so far. We paid for his accomodation all the way and all his other expenses, so that he could save his daily expense money and keep it to buy something for the child his wife was expecting. We also found out that apart from stopping the car to stretch himself awhile, he never stopped the car for himself and adhered to the schedule as best as he could. He drove with the caution and respect required on Himalayan roads and enjoyed the trip with us as much as we did with him.
Namah Shivaayaa
The drive to Gaurikund was breathtaking and most of the journey was either spent in sheer silence broken regularly by gentle nudges of ‘Look!’ at a passing mountain or a particular bend or mood of Bhagirathi. Past 1400 hrs., Idris had not yet been asked to stop for lunch anywhere. Though we were using the dry food and water with us, my mother asked me if there was any possibility of lunch or was it going to be ‘Namah Shivaayaa’ today too? Idris is an excellent driver but also kept a part of his mind attentive to his passengers. I could see him breaking into a wide grin.
In our family, as children, when something did not happen as it was supposed to, we were taught by our parents to say ‘Namah Shivaayaa’ and accept it as His grace. My parents have been travelling with us for the last 5 years and learnt to adjust to the demands of travelling on a tight schedule while we had learnt to adjust our schedule to their needs.
Both my mother and I burst out laughing. In Mumbai, she lives a strictly routine life, with all daily activities having an almost clock-like precision. Second tea of the day at 1115, lunch at 1230, third tea of the day at 1545-1600 and so on. She attempted to keep her routines on her travels too, reminding me of the hour. The only comfort that she had had during the day was the excellent breakfast at Uttarkashi, with excellent tea.
I told her, laughingly, that she could tell Idris to stop the car, if she noticed any suitable place to eat or drink. She laughed even more, in her need for tea and a proper lunch and recognising the sheer impossibility of fulfillment of her daily needs. With me joining in with her laughter, all the men, except Idris, wanted to know why we were laughing. Having explained, I also added a rider that we all need to be prepared to say ‘Namah Shivaya’ several times during this journey. Idris had caught on, without any explanations. Perhaps he was used to catching such stuff?
In our family, as children, when something did not happen as it was supposed to, we were taught by our parents to say ‘Namah Shivaayaa’ and accept it as His grace. My parents have been travelling with us for the last 5 years and learnt to adjust to the demands of travelling on a tight schedule while we had learnt to adjust our schedule to their needs.
Both my mother and I burst out laughing. In Mumbai, she lives a strictly routine life, with all daily activities having an almost clock-like precision. Second tea of the day at 1115, lunch at 1230, third tea of the day at 1545-1600 and so on. She attempted to keep her routines on her travels too, reminding me of the hour. The only comfort that she had had during the day was the excellent breakfast at Uttarkashi, with excellent tea.
I told her, laughingly, that she could tell Idris to stop the car, if she noticed any suitable place to eat or drink. She laughed even more, in her need for tea and a proper lunch and recognising the sheer impossibility of fulfillment of her daily needs. With me joining in with her laughter, all the men, except Idris, wanted to know why we were laughing. Having explained, I also added a rider that we all need to be prepared to say ‘Namah Shivaya’ several times during this journey. Idris had caught on, without any explanations. Perhaps he was used to catching such stuff?
Bhagirathi at Gangotri
My mother told me that Gangotri had been very good for my father and that he no longer regretted not being with us to Gaumukh. On asking him, he explained that he had spent almost all of 08.10.06 at Gangotri, just walking around. The sheer inaccessibility and wildness of Gangotri, as compared to Mumbai, worked on him in ways that made him appreciate both more. He had strolled along the ghats and suddenly experienced great thirst. He has a long history of diabetes and mentally, had prepared himself to die on this trip, if it was to happen.
On seeing the water of Bhagirathi at Gangotri and experiencing that thirst on her ghats, he felt that if he got some drops of that water, he would die happily. Feeling too unsure to reach out to her waters himself, he asked some passing boys and they came immediately and gave Gangajal from the cups of their hands. He drank like it was life itself.
He felt himself a renewed person and thanked Gangamaataa for many indescribable and unlistable matters. On coming back to Bhaironghatti, he told my mother of his experiences and also found that he experienced her in a different way, with much more appreciation, love and care, than the day before. My mother is an atheist by choice and welcomed the change in my father, since it was to her benefit, :-),:-).
On seeing the water of Bhagirathi at Gangotri and experiencing that thirst on her ghats, he felt that if he got some drops of that water, he would die happily. Feeling too unsure to reach out to her waters himself, he asked some passing boys and they came immediately and gave Gangajal from the cups of their hands. He drank like it was life itself.
He felt himself a renewed person and thanked Gangamaataa for many indescribable and unlistable matters. On coming back to Bhaironghatti, he told my mother of his experiences and also found that he experienced her in a different way, with much more appreciation, love and care, than the day before. My mother is an atheist by choice and welcomed the change in my father, since it was to her benefit, :-),:-).
Vishwanath temple, Uttarkashi
After breakfast, Idris took us round and round for about 25 kms, in search of a petrol pump. When he did locate one, he forgot to tell us that it was in the opposite direction of the Vishwanath temple at Uttarkashi. Finally, we reached Vishwanath temple. It was Karva Chouth and I was fasting.
The last time we had come to this temple, we had distributed banana chips from Kerala, since we did not have change. We still remembered the smiles on the faces of the saadhus and others sitting there at receiving something so rare and unexpected. Therefore, we had carried about 5 kilos of different ‘rare and unexpected’ dry food stuff from the other end of India, to give away here. My husband and father enthusisatically began distributing and their smiles told me that we were right in carrying all that stuff, all the way up here.
My earlier memories of the temple freshened up and I could have happily spent the day absorbing the energy of that place, like the others. But we were already 3 hours late and had a schedule to keep. So we all trooped back into the car.
The last time we had come to this temple, we had distributed banana chips from Kerala, since we did not have change. We still remembered the smiles on the faces of the saadhus and others sitting there at receiving something so rare and unexpected. Therefore, we had carried about 5 kilos of different ‘rare and unexpected’ dry food stuff from the other end of India, to give away here. My husband and father enthusisatically began distributing and their smiles told me that we were right in carrying all that stuff, all the way up here.
My earlier memories of the temple freshened up and I could have happily spent the day absorbing the energy of that place, like the others. But we were already 3 hours late and had a schedule to keep. So we all trooped back into the car.
Shoes at Uttarkashi
10.10.06. At 0530 hrs., we started loading and left Bhaironghatti at 0600 hrs. - the right time to soak in the rich beauty of the Bhaironghatti-Uttarkashi drive which we had missed on our way up. We made an unscheduled halt at Uttarkashi for a warm breakfast and to get cash from the SBI ATM. Right outside the restaurant, next to the ATM, we saw that very good quality shoes and boots for sale were piled up on the street.
Footwear had been a major concern long before we started – the internet recommended shoes that were not available in India and it was not easy to decide on the final choice. My husband had excellent mountaineering boots, but we bought rough terrain shoes from a Reebok store in Mumbai, since we suspected the weather might be too warm for boots. I had bought a similar Nike pair from Cochin and D had bought his Nikes from Mumbai.
All our shoes did very well during the walk up to and down from Gaumukh. But it was only after looking at the quality that was available in Uttarkashi that I realised that we could have saved us much time, energy and valuable luggage kilos and space, if we had but known that we coud safely buy footwear at Uttarkashi itself, taking a rain check on the warranty.
Footwear had been a major concern long before we started – the internet recommended shoes that were not available in India and it was not easy to decide on the final choice. My husband had excellent mountaineering boots, but we bought rough terrain shoes from a Reebok store in Mumbai, since we suspected the weather might be too warm for boots. I had bought a similar Nike pair from Cochin and D had bought his Nikes from Mumbai.
All our shoes did very well during the walk up to and down from Gaumukh. But it was only after looking at the quality that was available in Uttarkashi that I realised that we could have saved us much time, energy and valuable luggage kilos and space, if we had but known that we coud safely buy footwear at Uttarkashi itself, taking a rain check on the warranty.
Aarti at Gangotri temple
We picked up speed on the way down. By 1800 hrs., we were still 3.5 kms away from Gangotri. Darkness slowed us down. Our headlamps and D’s torch showed us the stones to avoid and at 1900 hrs., we reached Gangotri temple, just in time for the evening aarti. We took part in the aarti and reached the car park where my anxious father had sent R upwards to search for us/bring info about us. It was pitch-dark and R and the porters soon came back, since someone along the way had told him about us taking the temple steps path.
R and the porters were paid enough to bring smiles on their faces and welcome us back to Gangotri. And a grateful father thanked Ganga mata for bringing his children back to him.
My mother, alone at the Bhaironghatti GMVN TRH, since 1300 hrs., had been pacing the corridor in her night clothes, unable to sleep, be inside her room or do anything else constructive. At 2100 hrs., she welcomed us with a broad smile and said, ‘You all look very tired! Come and eat and then rest!’, as any mother would have done.
R and the porters were paid enough to bring smiles on their faces and welcome us back to Gangotri. And a grateful father thanked Ganga mata for bringing his children back to him.
My mother, alone at the Bhaironghatti GMVN TRH, since 1300 hrs., had been pacing the corridor in her night clothes, unable to sleep, be inside her room or do anything else constructive. At 2100 hrs., she welcomed us with a broad smile and said, ‘You all look very tired! Come and eat and then rest!’, as any mother would have done.
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