BAREFOOT TRAVELER - 2

Mussoorie in Mind

Suddenly it happened. Driver Rajan and his Tavera. The pair almost looked like a village performer with his faithful. Unlike the cyclist, Rajan Nair does not sport a pleasant disposition.   He is a self-made man who funded himself for his education, job, marriage and every other endeavor. Nair ran away from home, in his early teens from the tyranny of his father. He was an alcoholic.

I wanted to buy some clothes. I had already made the blunder of purchasing all woolen and thermal wear from Kerala and was looking forward to buying casual stuff from the first stop-over. Actually I should have done the reverse. Track suits are excellent for any kind of Himalayan pursuit, especially the types used by athletes in cold weather. For primary protection, one should procure thermal clothing. All these and add-ons like hand gloves, monkey-cap and woolen socks were already bought at astronomically high prices from T’puram.

Don’t worry, Rajan said to me. I can get them at throw-away prices from any Himalayan town.

I was comforted. My personal collection of clothes was meagre  and I desperately needed a few pairs! The new idea was to get them from Dehradun.

Rajan was supposed to make up for the time lost. And the Haridwar-Dehradun Highway is relatively well-maintained.

We should reach the city by lunch time.

However, we were still hanging around at Haridwar. Some landmark temples were not to be missed.

just anguish and no fury

We stopped at   Daksheswar Mahadevji temple. Though it is dedicated to Daksha Prajapathi, the major presence is Lord himself with separate annexes for lesser deities. Unlike South Indian temples, no structure is imposing! A gopuram can make you feel small and insignificant. Here, the sanctum sanctorum is so simple and one feels like walking in. The priest does not stand formidable between the deity and the devotee. Anyone can walk in without hassles to the Lord’s abode and do Pooja with his/her offering in a plate. I didn’t have anything to submit, still I went ahead.

One can pray without words after all!

Back on the road, we started seeing glimpses of devastating landslides. 
That was just a beginning!

The landslide splits the hill into half

Get out now, Rajan yelled, it is Satikund.

We could see a marshy land with some ruins.

Is it a temple?, I asked.

No, this is the place where Daksha arranged his Yaga and Sati, his daughter was insulted in public. Sati didn’t take it lying down and jumped into the Yaga fire.

Hence Satikund.

That’s interesting, I thought. Anywhere in India, people connect a location with mythical connotation either from Ramayana or Mahabharata. For example, my home town Harippad (abridged from Haripada, perhaps) boasts of one of the best-known sacred groves of Kerala -the Mannarsala. Before reaching its periphery, you are educated even by strangers that Mannarsala has its roots in Khandavadaha, the ghastly forest fire mentioned in Mahabharatha. Sand was used in dousing the fire and the sand (mannu) got cooled (arriya) at that place (sala) begetting the name. Amusingly, in the original version, firefighting was done with water.

You don’t feel like asking questions. These stories are not for dissection with logic. You know fully well that Mannarsala is hardly ten kilometers away from the sea and a thick forest cannot exist there by any reckoning.

We gave Satikund a miss.

Tavera raced ahead.

Suddenly we saw a huge statue of Lord Shiva overlooking the whole area, much like Thiruvalluvar at Kanyakumari or Gauthama Buddha at Hussain Sagar, Hyderabad. People were taking bath in specially-designed snan ghats where water flow estimated at 60 kmph in the main river is regulated to its quarter by making short diversions.Quite a safe area! The place is called Arsipuri

bath while the Universal Life-guard is in attendance! (Photo - Nandu Bodhi)

Some people approach you with a triangular hard-broom tied to a long stick. This is a common sight in Uttarkhand and you’re supposed to contribute money. The broom-wielders are cleaning the holy place for your sake! Oddly enough, I haven’t seen anyone actually sweeping the ground!

Two kilometers ahead, you can have a brief intermission.

Mansadevi offers you a breath-taking (in terms of picturesque scenery) cable-car drive. Each cubicle accommodates four persons for Rs.750.

It struck to us that we were desperately seeking food while everybody back in Kerala relished sumptuous Onassadya. Yes, it was Thruvonam and we were literally on the road!  There was no eatery anywhere in sight. To make matters worse, Rajan skipped a few joints, as had a specific Dhaba in mind.

Onassadya under the cloth-lines

 At last our vehicle stopped in front of Shera Da Daba, a family venture run by pleasing and business -savvy Sardarjis. Rajan was a regular there. His food was taken care of, i.e., if he sat separately. Otherwise, the group was to foot his bill. Rajan took the lead and started ordering Onassadya. Aluparathas ghee-spread, chapattis, basmati rice, daal, paneer phalak, double sized papads, sliced onions, green salad and that was not enough!

“Payasam, can you make payasam?”

The Sardarjis looked puzzled.

See, it is nothing but kheer. You take boiled milk, add basmati rice and sugar! Simple!

The bearded friends were in no mood to oblige. In fact, Onam was a strange word for them!

Additionally, our language and noise combination was getting on their nerves. One of my North Indian friends commented that listening to a Malayalam conversation in a public place is like playing a LP record at 45 rpm!

We reached Dehradun late in the afternoon. An overgrown town, I guessed. People were beautiful and stylish in western clothes. However,  the purchase didn't come through . The price-tag was quite high. We were running behind time too.

Now, we have to reach Barkot before nightfall. The place is a village by the banks of Yamuna and getting rooms after sunset is difficult.

Rajan rose to the occasion and stepped on the accelerator. We felt as if we were flying!

I wanted him to stop at Mussoorie. All those training institutes in a scenic setting. Who cares! I wanted to make a visit to Ruskin Bond. To sip strong tea if he offers some and be in his presence. I wouldn’t be asking any questions, sure!

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Photo credits:  Jayakumar. R.