Weekenders' Game

Chapter - 9 : Candle In The Wind

Dawn touched the flap of our tent, and a ray of light scrambled through. My eyes flashed open. Brij and Sakaar were on either of my sides, trumpeting like baby elephants. I sat up, liberating myself from the Devil's Snare of stereo snoring, and peeked out the tent. 

Morning had burst into the sky, tessellating the blue canvas with clouds and light; as if God had held up a sconce in the storm.

Some of my friends were already up. I walked up to Abhinav. 

'Slept well?' he asked.

'Yeah. Fortunately I was asleep before the snoring started.' I grinned.

'Oh God,' Abhinav held his head in his hands. 'You should have been with us. Anurag sounded like mopeds doing a protest rally.'

Behind us, Malpani had already started packing up his tent. I went around to wake the others. We needed to leave so everyone could get enough rest in Bangalore.

Also, there was a surprise. 

I waited until everyone had done their beastly duties, and then went up to Vedant. 'You brought the candle, right?'

'Yep,' he answered. 'Let's do it after we pack up the tents.'

The other groups had also stirred awake. We started removing the metal hooks from the ground, collapsing the roofs of the tents, sometimes with the sleepers in them. Whoever had thrown something at me when I'd gone to rouse them were also up now, greeted by a half-dismantled tent cover blocking their view. They crawled out like mummies and went off to sleep on someone's shoulder. I guess we'd stayed up a little too much last night. 

'All right, everyone,' I announced, and everyone looked at me with the attention span of students at a school assembly, 'It's Radhika's birthday tomorrow. So we thought we'd celebrate it today, while we're at a beautiful place.'

I extricated a small box from my rucksack. 'Home-made chocolate cake. Well, somewhere between a cake and a pudding and a gooey mess. Enjoy.' Vedant handed me a candle and a lighter, and I tried to light the wick, failing disastrously. 'It's the wind,' I muttered, clicking again and again, and watching the breeze steal the flame away everytime like a mischievous kid with a cookie jar. 

I clicked the lighter one last time, and Radhika blew it off before I could light the candle. She looked at me and shrugged. 'What's the difference?'

'Happy birthday...' I started.

'Tum jeeo hazaaron saal, ye meri hai aarzoo...' Malpani interrupted, and everyone joined him. I mouthed along poorly. 

'Happy birthday to you,' I sang along loudly in the chorus, and all the other groups looked at us, some clapping along. Radhika smiled at us sheepishly, while checking the consistency of her present.

We passed it around; some used the spoon provided, while others dived headfirst.

'Let's beat her up!' Ayushi hollered, and a choir of consensus followed.

'What?' Radhika yelped, halfway through her morsel.

'No, no, this isn't BITS.' I bellowed. 'Besides, I think the trek was punishment enough.'

'Arre, the trek is the gift.' Ayushi chanted piously, and I could almost see her in a saffron robe with a sitar flourish playing in the background. 'All experiences are a gift.'

'Damn, Brij, you were right.' I muttered. 'There are scarier things on Aastha TV.'

Ayushi glared at me and Brij while we laughed. The others picked up their bags and took off. I fastened two tents to my rucksack and picked it up.

'Thanks, Danish.' Radhika said as she passed me. I smiled as she handed me the empty box, tossing the candle in the wind.

Chapter - 10 : Litterati

On the way down, me and Brij got into our mutual love for Hindi literature. We talked about the stories and poems of Suryakant Tripathi 'Nirala' and Premchand.

'Idgah is a work of art, man.' I started. 'It's so much fun to read, and yet so touching.'

'I personally like Poos Ki Raat.' Brij replied. 'The descriptions, and the theme itself is really very deep; and again, never gets preachy, always fun and relatable.'

'His poems are very lyrical. I love how you can easily sing them in a tune and rhythm.'

'Oh, my favourite poet is Nirala. Very catchy, simple and profound verses.'

'Harivansh Rai Bachchhan, any day. I haven't heard a more inspiring poem than Agneepath.'

'Well, hamaar gaun mein,' Abhinav came up behind us, mimicking Brij. 'We grew up with the shayari of Linkin Park and Eminem.'

'Hey, Eminem is a wizard.' I turned to him. 'His use of rhymes and assonance is unparalleled right now.'

'Yeah, but I don't really understand his lyrics,' Brij scrunched up his face.

'For that you'll have to learn Angrejji,' I chuckled and dodged his well-aimed kick. scampering off to Ayushi and Malpani, who were walking ahead.

'Look at all this litter strewn around!' Ayushi wailed dramatically. 'What are youngsters learning nowadays?'

'Still in Asaram mode, huh?' I teased her. She gave me a look that could have made a grizzly bear get on with what it was doing. I turned serious. 'No, you're right. This is really bad.'

'I'm picking some of it up,' Ayushi bent to snatch two bottles and a biscuit wrapper from the ground, and suddenly found she had run out of hands.

'Wait,' Malpani produced a huge plastic bag, and handed it to Ayushi. He took another one for himself, and started picking up the litter. I looked on like a doting parent, feeling truly inspired.

Without further discussion, everyone started digging out anything that didn't belong in the forest, depositing it in our makeshift trash cans. The people we passed encouraged us, picking up a little garbage themselves. It re-instated my faith in the redemption of our species; if a large enough group of people do anything, good or bad, others will soon join you. There was unimaginable danger in that possibility - and immeasurable hope.

We were halfway down, and the two garbage bags were full. Ayushi was now picking up only the biggest dangers - plastic bottles, polythenes and chips packets. 'Oi, bottle crusher,' she called me. As I made mincemeat of a Pepsi container, she looked dejectedly at all the little candy wrappers that seemed to mock us with their garish colours. 'Maybe we can compress it further,' me and Malpani used all our strength to squash the contents to almost half their size. 'Yay!' Isha gave a slight cheer. 'But this will also start overflowing, in mere minutes.'

Anurag came to our rescue, holding out a giant wrapper, smiling at us. We whooped and resumed the cleanup.

Soon, everything was full, and we were cramming tiny wrappers into our hands, that kept leaking back onto the ground. We came across a tree trunk where a few trekkers were resting.

'Great work, guys,' one of them beamed at us. 'Why don't you take a break and wash off? There's a rivulet after a short walk into the forest.'

We set down our pickings and set off to our left, following the slight trail of trodden vegetation. The familiar trill of flowing water reached our ears, and I recognized it from the grove on my way to Kumaraparvat.

'Hello, old friend,' I set my rucksack down on the rocks and ran my hand through the stream. The water returned the embrace I had given it yesterday.

Everyone found a rock to rest upon, taking off their shoes and letting the brook massage their tired toes.

'Oh man, this feels good.' I saw Sakaar, Isha, Ayushi and Brij sitting ankle-deep in the rivulet, and I was reminded of my Thottikallu Falls trip with them last month. What would we do without water?

Me, Spurthi, Anurag, Rajendra, Abhishek and Aditya set off to explore the nearby rocks, following the stream. I balanced precariously on a frail branch connecting two rocks. The group directly below me looked at me with amusement and apprehension, ready to scatter if I fell.

We saw a thin curtain of water rolling off a gigantic rock, as softly as clouds floating down a valley. Me, Spurthi and Aditya climbed it and sat atop for a while, reconciling ourselves with the fact that the trip was over. The chirping of water and gurgling of birds would always be; but we, the audience, would be ripped time and again from this infinite concert.

'All right, let's go,' Aditya sighed and climbed down. We all followed. I gave a last embrace to the water. 'Return it in Orissa.' I whispered.

'This is a nice place for a group photo.' Vedant called out as we were reunited with the group. 'Everyone, take positions, height wise or something. Danish, find a tall rock.'

We pulled and pushed and dragged each other like crabs in a tank, finally forming a creepy amalgamation of dislocated bodies and floating heads. Vedant balanced the camera on a flattish pebble, and turned on the timer.

'Okay, one, two, three.' He clicked a button and dashed to us, stumbling and splashing along the way, and finally threw himself at our melee, knocking us down like an over-eager maami trying to skip the line for a Music Academy concert.

Side note: I have very recently been to Chennai for margazhi, the music season, so apologies for all the Illad references. 

Anyway, Vedant tried three more times. Once, a huge splash of water made us look like 'Just For Laughs : Gags' victims. In the next one his posterior blocked half of the view. He made it in the last one, but his entire body was blurred because of the hurry, like a still from Paranormal Activity.

'Why can't you set the timer for longer?'

'Ten seconds is the max. I literally have to beat the speed of light.'

'Wow. Danish had better success with the candle.'

Vedant wore a final look of determination, and the jokes stopped. He was going to make it this time. He pressed the button and leaped across the gap, and my mind inadvertently hummed the Mission Impossible theme. He landed on his feet, right in the vacuum we had left for him, whipped around, and bared his teeth. Fortunately, the camera captured all the awesomeness.

As we were about to leave, a tiny frog rocketed onto my palm. 'Don't move,' Vedant whispered, and we waited for the tiny amphibian to settle down. Vedant got a close up - not a moment too soon, as the creature shot off, on to its next pit stop. Live like that frog, I thought.

'See?' Vedant declared proudly. 'Awesomeness always comes out of the blue.'

'So do leeches,' I said loudly, and after I blinked, everyone was on their feet.

'Any other Nat Geo worthy shots?' I asked Vedant as we returned to the trail. 'Yes, yes,' he breathed excitedly. 'I'll show you in the bus.'

Reaching the diversion, we picked up our Good Samaritan bags and resumed the descent. There was enough litter further on the way to fill two more bags, but we had no space left. I caught a glimpse of Ayushi's angry face.

'They should just ban every beautiful place.' She fumed. 'Or put up check posts and confiscate everything plastic. Maybe then people will learn.'

'Actually, they know what they're doing.' I smiled sadly. 'People are learned enough - more now than before. They just care less.'

We were all a part of this paradox; confusing development with evolution, sympathy with empathy, intelligence with wisdom. Scientifically, we know more about Mother Nature than the generations before us; and yet, we'll be the ones to kill her; the litterati.

Chapter - 11 : The Imitation Game

It was sweltering by the time we reached the portal gate, and opened it to come back out into the urbanscape. A few groups who had left earlier were sitting near some stalls selling buttermilk and kokam sherbet. We were on them in minutes.

We took refill after refill as our group slowly trickled out of the gate, drinking and making merry like Vikings after a conquest. 'Arrrrr,' I roared and clinked plastic glasses with Vedant, spilling half the contents. After we had enough sugar in our system, and the world looked like someone had turned up the brightness knob, we walked back to the bus. The landscape morphed, easing us back into the city. We found a nearby municipal bin and deposited our hard-earned trash into it.

'Tomorrow, it'll be back to square one. We've not actually changed anything.' Ayushi said glumly.

'Hey, this is how startups die.' Abhinav replied. 'We did something, let's just revel in that.'

'Yeah, otherwise even the NGOs now are making a difference only until a century or two. After that it's a long walk back to square one. Until entire generations realize unanimously that this isn't sustainable, we're just putting band-aids on a cancer.'

'Dude Salman Khan is pretty short too. He looks strong.' I heard Aditya protesting behind me.

The three of us turned around - Salman Khan and environmental conservation were pretty different topics; actually the opposite, if you like blackbucks.

'Oh, we were just wondering what different body types and strengths are, and if they're related to the activities you're good at.'

'For example,' Sonali jumped in. 'You're short and muscular, but not bulky. Maybe that's why you do better at climbing, running, things requiring agility and stamina.'

'And maybe wrestling and powerlifting etc, you'll have a disadvantage. Except maybe in your weight category.'

'Which probably doesn't exist,' Vedant taunted.

'That's true,' I said, evading the jibe. 'But you can always surmount your physical hurdles with training and practice. Maybe you'll need to put in more time and effort than others, but genetics need no longer limit us.'

'Except on Tinder.' Vedant interjected. And we laughed all the way to the bus.

The driver, Manju, smiled at us as we entered. A night's sleep had considerably lifted his mood. 'Kaisa?' he asked, tapori style. 'Super', I replied thambi style.

And we were off, roaring into the dimming sun.

'What should we play?' Radhika stood up, taking charge. This is the same girl who didn't speak a single word in the Bandaje Falls bus games.

She had opened a Pandora's box; we played 20 questions, Antaakshari and Contact (with the decibel level of a sorority house on fire) until Manju asked us to shut the hell up and have lunch.

It was a bustling, shack-like restaurant. The vegetarians quarantined themselves to one corner table, while the rest of us sprawled ourselves in the center, feasting on a full three-course meal, topping it off with lemonade and paan.

We lurched to the bus, drunk on gluttony and the pent-up exhaustion. There was officially nothing left in the itinerary except to go back to Bangalore and sleep it all off.

Except Dumb Charades.

At the mention of the game, everyone shrugged off their fatigue and joined in. Any outing in India was incomplete without it. People had exhausted entire IMDB lists just to ace it. A few years from now, excelling at this game would probably boost your matrimonial.com ratings.

Malpani rubbed his hands like a prospective groom looking to increase his matrimonial.com ratings, and said, 'I got this.'

The two rows of seats became the teams, and we took off. Our team was demolishing theirs, courtesy Malpani and Aditya Singh, producing gems such as 'Andheri Raat Mein Diya Tere Haath Mein', 'Hawrah Bridge pe latki hui laash' and the mother of them all - 'Aa Takli Teri Maang Bhar Dun.' I don't remember ever laughing that hard. Future tip: someone falling due to a sudden brake, whilst in the midst of enacting mamta, is a priceless moment.

I peeked out the window briefly, and found evening upon us. All hues had darkened, and the sun tinged the horizon slightly before sinking like a drop of paint leaving the brush, giving way to an indigo sea. It seemed to envelope us like a heady cloud of bliss, and slowly, everyone dozed off, ending the imitation game.

Chapter - 12 : Deja Vu

'I want to be God.' Radhika proclaimed.

Perhaps some context is required. Everyone awoke in about two hours, and clamoured for yet another game of Mafia. Radhika got up to take charge, having become quite a badass since Bandaje Falls. 

In the first game itself, Aditya opened his eyes at the wrong time, and Radhika lost her cool. After that, her role assignment grew very sadistic - giving boring villager roles to her previous fellow mafioso, and you don't even want to know who the suicide bomber was. 

We reached Yeshwantpur. Sakaar got off, saying his goodbyes and handing me the cash to pay for the final bus settlement. In Jayanagar, Anurag and Rachana left us. After that, most people dismounted at Marathahalli Bridge and Spice Garden; leaving me, Abhinav, Saurabh, Abhishek Nayak, Malpani and Rajendra. We stopped in front of my building, and sorted out the payments and unloading of the tents et al. I called Abhishek Shankar to come down to help me carry them to our flat. Saurabh came with us upstairs. 

'There's a few mats left. I'll bring them.' I said and went back down. 

I picked up the mats and looked at the sky. None of the stars could see me. The roads had quietened, leaving an inky haze behind, and the distant lights in distant buildings switched off, one by one; phantom stars in our phantom sky. 

I sighed, in a silent debate on whether to move on, or just walk off into the darkness, to grasp at infinitesimal moments before my everyday rigmarole returned. Finally, my legs took their steps inside - but I seemed to have left my mind out there, still debating. 

'Something else had ended like this too,' I pondered, returning to my flat with an unshakeable feeling of deja vu.

"White moves first," she says, teasing my skin. 
 'I don't know the game, but I'm in.' I move a pawn,
She entices it away with the soft light of dawn. 'You win.'
"Come on, one more," she gives a hearty grin. 
'I'll lose again,' and yet, I'm drawn. She takes my chin,
And says, "Losing's not a sin." 
My fear is gone...

I take out a horse, timidly, racking my brain.
She sends forth a torrent of rain, washing it away,
The clouds that brought it turn grey, and remain. 
"You should give it your all," she starts to explain. 
'I know, but I really want to stay,' I utter in vain.
She laughs a laugh tinged with pain. 
I need to play... 

I send forth my castle with growing unease, 
She traps it in a thicket of trees, and sings a song. 
I know it from a bus ride; I sing along, with the breeze. 
'Don't end it,' I implore. 'Don't go away, please...'
She whispers, "I believe that you're strong." I know she sees,
That inside, I'm down on my knees. 
Have I done wrong? 

I unleash my queen, and she goes like this, 
The fourth, the fifth, her king falls, her eyebrows lift, 
Baffled, she utters, "Hallelujah..." and gives me a kiss,
And floats down the waterfall to the abyss. 
She pulls me to her, and I'm adrift with borrowed bliss, 
But I know that something is amiss. 
Was that my gift? 

She, the white moon and the soft light of dawn, 
She, the first game I won - and yet, we're drawn, 
She, the hearty grin that takes my fear away, 
She, who takes my chin, and brings me down to play... 
'Come on, one more,' I cry, trapped in my skin. 
'Winning's not a win.' 

Rest, 
For the moon has heard your tired sighs, 
And she comes down to the wolf that cries, 
But I'm the sigh and the wolf to blame, 
And we'll play this tomorrow, again, my love, 
The Weekenders' Game...

Photos, courtesy of Anurag Rastogi, Abhishek Nayak, Ayushi Bansal, Deepayan Dasgupta, Vedant Sapra and Abhinav Sethi.

Anjana's Blog : https://anjlifeexperiences.wordpress.com

Vedant's YouTube Channel : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_-wTP-OKAF6HskDOqSeREw

Vedant's Instagram Page : https://www.instagram.com/vedantsapra/

TL;DR

Costs:

1) Transport: Tejas Tours and Travels, 21-seater - 18,000 Rs.

2) Forest Department Permissions: Rs. 200 per head

3) Rent for Tents and Mats: Rs. 250 per 4-person tent per day.

4) Food: Provided at Bhattara Mane, other meals depending on where you feast.

Itinerary:

1) Bangalore to Kukke Subrahmanya Temple: 7 hours, overnight journey

2) Temple to Bhattara Mane: 5 hours - Remember, Forest Department permissions for the same day close at 11 am.

3) Bhattara Mane to Kumaraparvat and back - 4 hours; purely travel time, the time you spend at the peak is extra.

4) Bhattara Mane to Kukke temple: 3 hours; small diversion takes you to a beautiful stream, but that will be extra time spent.

5) Kukke to Bangalore: 8 hours, plus lunch.

6) Bangalore to your homes: On a weekend night? Forget it. 

Contacts:

1) Bhattara Mane: 09448647947

2) Harsha (For tents et al): 08971000735