Saturday, September 22, 2007

THE CALL OF THE WILD - II


The river flows, it flows to the sea, Wherever that river goes that's where I want to be.
Flow river flow, let your waters wash down, Take me from this road to some other town. All I wanted was to be free, And that's the way it turned out to be. Flow river flow, let your waters wash down, Take me from this road to some other town.

After the oddities and necessities, I hit the road again --- my spirits draped with the motley flavour of excitement, anxiety and the serene surroundings. The car stereo belting out my favourite numbers, 'Fields of Gold', 'Black Velvet', 'Come Undone' and other classic rock songs.

Can you imagine the road, the serpentine black asphalt winding ahead of you with automobiles zipping up and down, melodious strings of your favourite track, air redolent with the aroma of moisture and earth with faint specks of gasoline (Aw! It never seems to leave us.). But all together enough to leave you ecstatic ---- greenery and civilization whizzing past.

As you cross Roorkee, the actual Tarai belt starts and after the first spell of rains the vegetation is draped with occasional conifers, wild flowers and lush green fields of sugarcane is enough to forget the most exotic locales anywhere in the world. One can actually smell it. Somewhat humid, mixture of grass, earth and the wild flowers that dot the landscape.

By lunchtime I was at Chakrata, 98 kms from Dehradun. Chakrata is known for its serene environs and pollution-free atmosphere. Virgin forests of conifers, rhododendrons and oaks greet you. I halted at a dhaba. The place had Khatias, cots made of jute strings, best to ease your strained anatomies. I ordered yellow dal, rotis, makhan and tea and stretched out on a khatia. Gentle cool breeze hitting from all sides, the long drive was enough for me to catch a quick nap.

My brief slumber was interrupted by the serving boy who was shouting in my ears, lunch was ready. The dal was yummy, with onions and garlic fried in ghee along with red chilly powder, garam masala and Faran or Jambu (a form of spice used in Uttarakhand) as tadka is just what you need with rotis smeared with makhan and sips of sweet tea. But while on the road one has to keep a check on ones gastric infatuations. A quick nap while on the steering and your's might be a perilous journey. I too followed the advice.

After Chakrata you encounter frequent traffic till you cross Dehradun and since it was July the tourist traffic was still there. Anyways I charted my way through the holiday revellers and the heavy traffic of Dehradun. My day ended at my brother's place near Jollygrant, 22 kms outside Dehradun. The place is quite surrounded by vegetation. In fact its here that you first face the forest and the great Ganges.

I reached after dusk. The place was bathed in the reddish glow of the setting sun with silence slowly enveloping the area. As darkness descended on the forest, I could hear the gnats mourning, crickets calling their distant cousins, occasional bark of the Kakar and the eerie silence that seemed to have worked itself out of a Sherlock Holmes novel. Shri (My Brother) and I caught up on lot of memories we had left behind in those dark expanses over tea and crackers.

The dinner fitted a king’s welcome; Shri had ordered chicken kebabs, mutton Rada, Gehet Ki Dal (The dal that built a Pahari), rotis and rice from a nearby hotel. Though chicken kebabs were a bit wet and the spices little strong, Mutton Rada was just right, with minced pieces of mutton cooked in mild spices along with marinated pieces of mutton. Gehet ki Dal is one of the staple foods of the hills. It's hot in nature and has a lot of medicinal qualities. I skipped makhan this time (Well! Sometimes I need to have a look at my belt buckle running south.) For dessert we had vanilla ice cream.

After the hearty meal, I slept like a child, the cool, sometimes chilly breeze from the forest scented with the flavour of pine and birch acting as a mild intoxicant. Hard to say when the sun was up, but I certainly dozed till it was time for Shri to leave for the hospital ; around 9:00 AM I guess.

A quick shower and I was out on the road driving towards Rishikesh for my rendezvous with the great Ganga, that has held India's heart captive and drawn uncounted millions to her banks since the dawn of history. Nothing can describe Ganga than this fitting tribute by Late Pt. Jawahar Lal Nehru,

"The Ganga, especially, is the river of India, beloved of her people, round which are intertwined her memories, her hopes and fears, her songs of triumph, her victories and her defeats. She has been a symbol of India's age-long culture and civilization, ever changing, ever flowing, and yet ever, the same Ganga".

As you move up towards Rishikesh and beyond you will see the muddy grey waters of the Ganges ---- at places calm and at places in torrents.

I was once told that If you never miss the river, it shall never miss you; Maa Gange, quite a fitting tribute........


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