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?