Reminisce

Chapter 11 - Arriving Somewhere But Not Here

We were woken up at 6 am by Happy's characteristically excited, effervescent voice. 'Bhaiyon, take a bus from the main bus stand to anywhere outside the city. Tell them you have to get off at Powri village.'

The bus dropped us off at the edge of the river. There was a cable chair in front us, spanning the width of the tributary, and Happy and Pramod, with evil grins on their faces. 

Talk about starting on a high note. 

The best part was looking down into the depths while crossing it - after a while, it felt like we were hovering above the river and never really moving. 

After bringing all the men and the bags, we looked at the small steps cut into the cliff in front of us, leading into a beautiful, secluded village. Powri. We hurried up the steps.

And so it began.

We encountered a small hydel power plant, right in the middle of the village. Happy told us almost every village in the district had one, tapping the steep descent of the ice-melt to power themselves. We could see pipes and canals dug into every plantation and home, collecting water from the icy streams.

We made our way up, passing tiny, surprisingly well-furnished houses, with happy, healthy people doing their chores in the fresh mountain air by the streams.

It comes as no surprise, that the greatest of civilizations were built upon rivers.

Chapter 12 - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Soon, we came across a small canal, leading down to a river crossing. It was a small, thin tree trunk placed across two rocks. We took our first gulp of water there - it was freezing. The only reason it wasn't ice was that it was flowing. 

Happy unpacked some aloo paranthas, and we ambled around with one in each of our hands. Each of us were lost in our own reveries, the temporary stillness dragging us into our own minds like a Pensieve. 


 






'Jungle Book! Please, please, I've been suggesting it since my first year,' Soumya squealed. 

Jungle Book was a brilliant story; an amazing palette of emotions, characters and energies. It was a winning idea for Sangamam. 

'Danish bhaiyya, they made me Sher Khan.' Akanksha declared like it was a challenge. I couldn't help notice a slight blush behind the defiant tone. I guess she knew I would laugh.

I laughed. 

I was standing atop a rock, looking down at the water gurgling and chirping by the small rocks, and further down, snarling and growling at the bigger ones. My first instinct was always to make fun; was it a defense mechanism, in response to my own insecurities and fears?

Most of the times, it was just funny. Most of the times, it was simply nasty. I guess I got along with the people who didn't mind either, and actually turned it into a game - like a swordfight. 
Akanksha was one of those people. 

I was playing the Sher Khan and Mowgli fight sequence, inspired by Yanni's Nostalgia. To my right, Rakshit powered away with rapid notes and arpeggios. To my right; Sudevan, Ananthu and Abhijit, bowing away magical harmonies that lended perspective to the tune. In front of me, I saw Akanksha - I had never seen such wrath in anyone's eyes. For a second, I was terrified with ecstacy - or ecstatic with terror, I still have no idea. 

The piece was complete. 

'Come on, people. We should reach by 2, ideally. It's time to resume our journey,' Happy called out, repacking his bag. I stuffed the last piece of parantha in my mouth, took a gulp of the icy elixir and picked up my bag. It was time to leave.








We were sitting in FK. I could feel Akanksha's drowsy head on my shoulders. Nityasa had her head on Soumya, in front of me. Rahul and Akshay cracked jokes in their vernacular, with other juniors watching expectantly. Rohit was giving a late laugh to some dirty innuendo. Sneha sat peacefully still, with a calm, content expression on her make-up laden face. I could hear Tania's voice, ranting about the non-vegetarian food in Pilani and telling me to come over to her house in Mumbai for machh bhaat. There were half-empty plates of noodles and empty cups of chocolate shakes all over  the table - the spoils our latest conquest, The Jungle Book.

'Danish bhaiyya, the Jungle Book theme was lovely.'

I nodded and smiled.

'We'll miss you.'

I didn't say anything. I had a six-month internship in Bangalore - six months of no Raag, no Ragamalikans. I rationalized; I was coming back in a year, and the outside world would probably make me appreciate Raag more, so it was a good thing. And absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? So, my psenti-semester would be even better, having taken a hiatus. 

I looked back at the Pensieve. It murmured with memories, mocking my rationalizations and dissolving them in an instant. Later. 

Chapter 13 - Stairway To Heaven

We went back up, the trail getting more and more feeble, with shortcuts and deceiving diversions at every turn. We couldn't help but look across the edge of the slope we were climbing, admiring the play of light and shadow, snow and mud, trees and streams. It was like God's own mosaic - a board game with no finishing tile. 

Life is a journey, not a destination, they said. Then perhaps, wisdom was learning to travel with eyes out the window rather than on the watch. 

We stopped for a while to exchange bags, over a boulder that seemed symbiotically attached to a large fir tree. I munched a Snickers bar, feeling the sugar rush through my system, energizing me instantly. Every drop of water felt like a liquid gulp of pure oxygen - every bite sent a surge of powerful electricity through our muscles. No one taught gratefulness better than scarcity. 









As we resumed our journey, there was a remarkable thinning in the vegetation, as pine cones and nettles littered our path, replacing thick shrubs and deciduous trees. 










We spotted some mountain mules grazing in a tiny meadow, surrounded by rocks. It looked like the locals had constructed it themselves. 







We saw lichens for the first time - greyish-green, burnt sienna, turquoise, mud brown, carrot orange, and even silvery grey. We spotted a tree with an interesting bark.

The exertion was slowly taking a toll on us. Steps became slower, the refreshment breaks grew more frequent, and every tree was an excuse to pause and bask in its shade. But we were getting there.

It was one turn, one small incline ascended, one tree skirted, that brought us to the bottom of a huge valley. At the top, we saw a tiny hut, with a flag fluttering in the ever-present wind. 

'Ganesh Camp.' Pramod declared. '3700 metres above sea level. Come on, we have to set up tents there for the night.'

I don't what it was; finally seeing our resting place within our grasp, the words  'tent' and 'night', the huge swigs of Glucon-D we had just taken or the sudden cloud cover that eased our way, we slowly made our way upwards, and didn't stop until we had reached the place, taking off our shoes and socks and bags, and lying down on the sparsely grassy meadow. 








Life is a journey driven by destinations.

Chapter 14 - Windowpane

My eyes opened to Happy and Pramod's mirthful conversations, talking about their friends back home and discussing how every time they visited this place, something was different. 

'Danish. Come fill water with us.'

'Where from?'

He pointed to a huge stream of ice in the distance that made its way to the bottom, almost as long as the valley we had just scaled. 

'But it's frozen.'

He just smiled and tossed me two bottles, walking off towards the snow. 

Of course I followed him. Happy only created suspense if it was going to be good. 

We reached the snow-covered peak, as the sound of flowing water grew closer. As soon as we hit the other side, I saw it. I gasped. There was a sheet of ice all over, and water was flowing beneath it, finally hitting a rock and emerging through the ice, making a waterfall of sorts. It was a very steep fall, enough to make collecting water an adventure sport. 

I saw a small cavity in the ice, and looked through it to find water rippling within the icy rocks, trapped like shadows inside a cave.

I couldn't help but look 

up at the mountains. We would be making our way to them soon.

We filled six bottles full of freezing water, and headed back. There was cooking to be done, camp to be set up. Only then would sleep be allowed. 

Akash and Naman were fast asleep. We took shelter inside the little hut, cooking Wai Wai noodles in a small kerosene stove. Oh, this was going to taste good.

While the others decided to put up the tent in the hut, I wanted it outside. Happy gladly obliged, and we set up an alpine tent on a small plain just above the cottage. I could see the entire skyline, unobstructed. Dusk was falling. It was perfect.

I could see ominous clouds rolling towards us. It was time to settle in. I entered my tent, climbed into my sleeping bag, and faced my panorama. Zipping my tent down to almost the bottom, I left a tiny flap open just enough for me to look outside while laying down - my secret windowpane. 

Chapter 15 - And So It Goes

The clouds had covered everything. They looked like a species of their own, evolving, embroiled in a torrential chaos they couldn't control - fighting, growing and dying just like mortals. Throughout, the sky and sun watched mockingly - though now hidden, they knew they would prevail longer than the clouds bothered to even exist. 

'Kids. Cherish this. You won't get it anywhere else.' Soumya whispered, her voice slightly shaky.

We were in front of the Saraswati temple inside campus. It was late night - there was no sound except for the dulcet tones of Soumya's sentimental speech.

'All I know is, this place has given me memories I know I can never get rid of. I remember the amazing things, the stupid things, the jokes, the fights, the seniors, the juniors - no less fondly than the other. I'm going to miss you all.'

There was silent, sympathetic clapping, and we all got up to walk back to our hostels. Soumya looked at me as if to say something. 

When I look back, the most ridiculous, stupid things have happened in Raag. Even the most beautiful, adorable, meaningful things took place in that room, with those people. Sometimes, they were the same. 

Sleep rested heavy on my eyelashes, pushing them down with an otherworldly force. With some untapped source of willpower, I kept my eyes open - I had to see the sunset, I had to see the sun leave through the mountains before the dark, overcast sky took my thoughts and ideas through the catacombs of my saturnine self, exploring my Pandora's box of dreams. 

"I shall give my life from these high mountains, if you do not appear before me..."

Then I saw it - the clouds; milky blue, pure white, ominous grey, vibrant orange, calming pink, melancholic copper-red...and the sun, tearing through all of them, enriching the dull grey clouds with its own fractal shades, a multitude of hues that we could never paint. 

I smiled. Any dream was now welcome. Do your worst, sleep. 

"Ah, this day, even the tears are sweet..."