A Jungle Trek - Short Story

It was a steep ascent and Aneem was almost breathless within the first 500 meters of the climb. The path was slippery and rocky too. However, it was always better to take a jungle trail than the road, when climbing a mountain. It kept her mind stimulated and offered the best views of the jungle and local life on the hills.

That’s how Aneem liked to travel, like locals. When she started her trek from Shringa Rishi Ashram to Chehni Kothi, she decided to ditch the road and follow one of the locals who was taking the jungle route.

Her city-eyes were not trained to identify jungle trails on hills. But her spirit was pahadi. So she approached a local, Kishore, and asked if he could show her the way to Chehni Kothi. Kishore, a simpleton of the Kullu Valley, gladly agreed. “In fact you can just follow me till halfway. My house is up there, only 1 km before Chehni” he said. Aneem was excited and relieved to have the local company. But he walked too fast and Aneem struggled to keep up with his pace, not wanting to lose sight of him.

“Is that a cake you are carrying?” she asked, looking at a cake box in Kishore’s hands. “Yes, it’s my son’s birthday. He turned 4 today. I had gone to the Banjar market to get the cake. We don’t have shops on the hills. He will cut it with his grandparents and friends in the evening” Kishore explained.

“And what about school for children? Does your son go to school?” Aneem was curious.

“We’ll put him in a school in Banjar. I and my wife decided to rent a room near the school. We are planning to shift next month” saying this he stopped and turned around to look at Aneem who was breathless from all the climbing and had to halt to catch her breath.

“You are not used to walking so much" he commented, "living in a city makes one weak. Here take some samosas, you’ll get some energy” saying so, Kisore took out a samosa from one of the bags he was carrying and gave it to Aneem. “No, I can’t take it. It must be for your son’s birthday party”

“Oh please do take. I bought extra. And they are very tasty”

Aneem was tempted. They smelled as good as they looked. She took one and ate quickly. They started their climb further. Aneem was now feeling guilty for slowing down Kishore. But she was also overwhelmed by the mighty trees, sound of the birds and a light rustling of the leaves. She was so glad she decided to trek through the jungle trail.

Soon they reached Kishore’s cottage and his cute German Sheppard puppy, Michal, came running to greet them. Michal was hysterical to see Kishore, who quickly picked him up to calm him down. Kishore then pointed towards puppy’s neck and said “You see these two marks? A leopard had caught him 2 days back. Michal almost died. We immediately took him to a vet in Banjar. I couldn’t sleep for 2 nights thinking about the pain he must be in.” Kishore cuddled the pup even tighter while telling about its Leopard-ordeal to Aneem.

Even though Aneem felt sorry for Michal and Kishore; she was also concerned with this new information. A Leopard! In here? He must have stood where she was standing right now when he tried hunting Michal. He probably took the same trail as she did to climb up here. Well, she didn’t sign up for this! Why didn’t Kishore tell her about this earlier? Oh God! How was she supposed to complete the trek after this new knowledge?

Kishore’s wife and son, came out to meet her and offered water. But Aneem was deep in her thoughts. What is one supposed to do on seeing a leopard? Definitely shouldn’t run but cannot keep standing there either! Would it scare a leopard if she picked up a stone or would it agitate it further?

Despite the unexpected revelation, Aneem continued her climb without Kishore this time, contemplating the presence of a leopard in the same territory. She shook away all these terrifying thoughts and decided to enjoy her walk in the nature. She tried distracting herself with the beautiful wild flowers around, the grand old trunks of oak and tall pine trees that surrounded her. And what was that? Oh look a blue-tailed Magpie just flew a few inches away from her! And such pretty Lavender butterflies fluttering all around. Oh and what was that orange-ish flash? She fastened her pace and hurried towards only to freeze as she saw a dark golden tail swishing away, disappear into the thickness of the jungle.

A Companion – Short Story

Though the watch showed 6.30 pm as the time, it had gotten dark. The sun sets early in the mountains. If you were a local, you would’ve returned home from work an hour before & would be getting ready to have dinner. The day began as early as 4.30 am for the pahadis and ended with the setting sun. They lived a rather simple life, unlike the sheharis, who came to the hills often bringing their ways of late night parties and loud music along as well.

Roy stood on the first floor common balcony of  the Hostel; looking at the hills in the dark. He could see a few lights in the distance and tried guessing the number of houses on the hill. Suddenly, the swing nearby moved. Startled, Roy looked towards the swing and saw a girl, her head bowed down, engrossed in reading a book.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there” said Roy. “Did you check-in today?” asked the girl, without lifting her head.

“No. Actually, I’m living in the guest-house behind this Hostel. There was no availability here. It’s all full apparently" explained Roy. She didn't even nod. Roy continued, "I came here thinking there will be lot of people to chill with. But the place seems to be empty. Where is everyone? Isn’t it supposed to be on full capacity?” asked a half perplexed and half disappointed Roy.

“Oh! It is full! There are 2 groups of 7-8 friends. They’re out in the market, probably” replied the girl without lifting her head.

Roy turned to look at those distant lights again. Some of them seemed to have been switched off. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Took a long drag and exhaled with an even longer sigh. He’d really hoped to find good company tonight. He turned towards the swing again and asked “Do you smoke?” The girl nodded.

"Sorry, I didn’t ask earlier”, he reached for his pocket to pull out another cigarette for her. She politely declined and gestured to the pack lying on the table next to her. Roy felt a bit embarrassed. He quickly changed the topic. “Are you a solo traveler?”

“hmm”

“Do you like traveling alone?”

“hmm”

“What are you reading?” 

The girl finally looked up, and turned the front cover of the book towards Roy so he could read the title.

“Is it any good?” Roy was incessant with his questions. The girl didn’t reply and went back to her reading.

He was a little confused by her behavior now. But he decided to let it go. Besides, wasn’t it half the fun of meeting strangers? Their quirks, strange ways, so different and yet similar sometimes! One often finds solace in meeting and talking to strangers. Probably because there’s no fear of judgment.

Roy was not a solo traveler really. He enjoyed a good company, especially of his friends on a vacation. But this trip was different. It wasn’t just any vacation but more of a getaway. He needed a break from the recent increase in workload and changes at his office. The new manager was very demanding. Even though he wanted to change things for the better, Roy had gotten used to the old ways. He’d found his comfort zone in the office. And that was the reason he didn’t quit in the last 5 years. Things were smooth and he’d gotten accustomed to a system. Now suddenly, a new person had come in to change things around. It was somehow, stressful.

Although this is how Roy had explained his sudden solo trip to Himachal Pradesh to his family, there was another reason to come solo this time. All his friends had a companion, a soul-mate except him. He was still single, looking for his forever.

Even though this girl had an odd vibe to her, Roy didn’t want to leave any opportunity this time. He was determined to find someone. Someone he could share his feelings with, someone he could travel to new places with, someone he could flaunt as his cool girlfriend, and someone who’d make him feel special.

A little hesitant but persistent, Roy thought of the list of small topics he had jotted down in his overnight bus from Delhi to Manali. “Where do you get good food here?” Food would be a safe topic he thought, and a useful one too.

After a moment of silence, she said, “you could try here… Hostel café has good food.”

“Yeah! That’s what I thought. In fact, that was another reason to come to here. But the cafe is empty too today." He took a pause before adding "I’d love a good company for dinner”. He stressed on the last few words, hoping the girl would take a hint and invite him to have dinner together. But she didn’t. 

Exasperate with all the efforts she was making him do, he blurted, “Listen, I’m sorry if I’m disturbing. I can go away if you want!”

The girl closed her book and slowly raised her head to look towards him. This was the first time he had a proper look at her face. She had dreamy eyes. He found himself staring into them longer than he’d intended to. She had long hair. A few lose strands moved gently across her face with the breeze. Her lips were dull pink but looked very fresh, like the morning dew on flower petals.

Roy felt the front of his pants stiffen and quickly turned his body away from her, hoping she hadn’t noticed already. He felt embarrassed. At this moment, the Hostel lost its electricity supply and it became pitch dark. Roy heaved a sigh of relief. He pulled out his lighter and lit the candle he had spotted earlier on the table. Desperate to end the awkwardness between him and the girl, he quickly thought of other topics from his list. 

Taking the last drag from his cigarette, he tried to make small talk. “Don’t you feel scared of traveling alone in the mountains?" 

“Why should I?” the girl asked.

Roy shrugged, “I don’t know, they say pahadi jungles can get scary at night. Especially if a chudail roams around the area” and half winked at her.

“And how would you know if someone roaming around is a chudail?”

“Well, for one their feet are supposed to be backwards, isn’t it?”

“You mean like this?”

Roy lowered his eyes to look at the girl’s feet and froze where he was standing. They were indeed backwards. His mind went numb as a swift breeze, blew the candle out.

 

Long Hair Problems

Long hair have always been a stereotypical attribute of a beautiful woman in India. I had a 'boy-cut' till I was in class 10. My father was of the opinion that long hair are a hindrance when focusing on studies. My mother had very long hair. They would almost touch her knees. I've only seen in photographs. She cut them short. The volume and weight of the hair gave her migraine problems. But my problems are very different. I grew them long after school and have been growing ever since. I do want to chop them off in extreme summers but I like them long too. Married into a Sikh family now, putting a scissor on them is a far fetched thought. However, I can definitely share some annoying long hair moments. Since long hair are a symbol of 'beauty', here is a mention of those times when this 'beauty' becomes a 'beast' -

1. It takes more than 30 minutes to properly wash them.
   And my parents wonder what have I been doing for so long in the washroom
   
2.  It takes 05-10 min to comb and get the tangles out only to get them tangled in less than an hour
   I wonder why do I even bother :/
   
3. You wake up screaming because they get stuck under you while you sleep.
   Seriously hair, what's with getting under my underarms ?
   
4. If you keep them open while traveling in public transport (metro for eg), they easily get stuck in other people's bags, hands, face, clothes. Don't know who's 'annoyed look' is more justified
   
5. They get stuck in my own bag
   
6. You can't wear a dress/top with back zip/buttons. They are bound to get stuck and broken
   
7. You end up screaming again when you or others sit on them accidentally
   
8. Ten thousand people ask you how you maintain them.
   It takes oiling, washing and drying. No science, really!
   
9. They misbehave during rains, near the sea and in the mountains.
   Seriously hair, why so excited?
   
10. High ponytails, high buns are a strict no-no, unless you want an instant headache. Can't leave them open either, they run wild.

Despite it, they have been excellent conversation starters. Someone once asked if they were hair extensions. Others ask my oil and shampoo brands. There are husbands who ask their wives to grow them as long as mine and there are women who know other women who have had long hair.

And yet there are others who tell my parents how I look like a proper Sardarni and I was growing them because I wanted to fit into a Sikh family. (Mine is an inter-religion wedding). I do love my hair despite all the trouble and so does everyone I know! Or are they just jealous? I'd rather not find out :)

Write me letters, will you?

"Write me letters, will you?" he whispered in her ear, tightening his grip around her waist and pulling her closer. Her hair bore no fragrance that day, a testament to the hectic last four days she'd endured, filled with numerous guests for lunch, dinner, and even high tea until yesterday. Tomorrow marked his departure.

"Will the letters reach you? Do they even have a post office there?" Her hesitations were genuine.

She had written letters to him earlier, during the academy days, when he wasn't allowed to keep his phone. The place he was heading to now stood as one of the most challenging terrains in the country, if not the world. It was difficult to arrange for something even as basic as fresh food there. Letters from loved ones became as important as food for them. Food for the mind and heart, that all was well.

In a world where handwritten letters are overshadowed by digital communication, he cherished her letters. There was a unique charm to them and an irreversibility once the pen had scribbled the words from her thoughts. There could be no immediate editing as she easily did in emails and text messages.

Her letters were beyond mere words and sentences she wrote. The doodles along the margin, the pressure of the pen, the gaps between two words and the slant of the letters, told him a lot more. He could even tell if she had been eating while writing or if she had been crying. Emails and text messages could never give him the pleasure of reading all the words and lines she had decided to cut and scribble on. 

"Yes, they have a system. Your letters will reach me. It might take more time than usual though, so you better start writing as soon as I leave. I don't want to miss out on our evening chai talks..." he said, as he put his name on the last packed trunk.

A place I won't forget!

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Oindrila as we bounced and jounced our way in a rattling car through the subtropical jungle of Meghalaya. My heartbeat increased with the increasing elevation of the road as we moved into the interiors to reach Shnongpdeng, a small village on the border of Jaintia and Khasi Hills near the Indo-Bangladesh border. Whether it was due to the breathtaking view of the transparent river Umngot on my right, that my heart raced, or the Sal, Teak and Betel Nut Jungle on my left or if it was just the fact that our driver was a teenage Khasi boy who replied with only a ‘yes/no’ and some unintelligible Khasi dialect or a wide smile when asked any question; I would never know.
 

The Khasi Jungle

Where was he taking us? Was it safe going like this with a strange boy in a land that spoke a language we didn’t know? Why is he smiling so wide? What if he is a tribal taking us to sacrifice in a ritual? Why is our mobile catching no network? Are we in the right car?

The archetypal rolling hills. The image is unclear due to dense fog.

Oindrila and I had no idea about the existence of Shnongpdeng when we were planning our Meghalaya trip. We had no certain plan, though; we did know we would be exploring new places. So when our taxi driver in Cherrapunjee mentioned a place where we could see riverbed eight feet under through ‘crystal clear water’ and camp or home-stay with a friend of his, we decided to go. Otherwise a skeptic, I was really uncomfortable with the idea of so many unknowns but what is an adventure without a little risk!

The car slowed down to a stop as we reached the end of the road. Getting out of the car, I stood still. In front of me was a dense forest sprawling the archetypal rolling hills of the north-east Indian terrain.  The green of the trees gave the river below its own color, making even the finest emerald look modest. Devouring each scene I stood there feeling paralyzed by a mysterious force of the creator. Involuntarily my hands folded as I bowed and thanked the nature for showing itself to me in such grandeur and sought permission to stay amidst it for a while. I think the hill gave me a smiling nod.
 

The view is far better with the naked eye. My phone camera hasn't done justice to it.

The crystal clear river water below the hills.

The only mode of transport within Shnongpdeng.

View from the bridge (as can be seen in above picture). Though it seems like the boat is almost moving on the riverbed, it was good 5ft below the water level. Which of course was crystal clear!

And thus I spent the next two days on the river bank in a bamboo cottage fed by a loving Khasi family that housed us. The driver boy turned out to be the son of the Sarpanch of Shnongpdeng who loved hosting guests. We didn’t share the language but not once did we feel difficult to communicate. Preparing to leave two days later, I realized, how often we take life for granted and how underrated being alive is.

With the family that hosted us and Mickey(in the cap), the driver boy.