BIR BILLING TREK
I gasped
heavily for breath as I put my left foot forward again. The innumerous myriad
rocks stood in our way, contemplating our dire need to move forward. We were a
troupe of ten people and two guides. One guide was at the front while the other
at the tail of line.
The scenic beauty
of mountains: picturesque, luxuriant, streams, waterfalls, birds and greenery
pervaded the surroundings. Bir was a small town in Himachal Pradesh well known
for its ecotourism and spiritual studies. The Dhauladhar mountain range in the
foothills of Himalayas captivated everyone’s attention.
The ecstasy
at the start of our twelve kilometer trek had withered away with time. Arjit, Aarti,
Puspendra sir, Deepak, Namrata, Nupur, Shivya, Elisee , Grace and I , all step
by step inched closer to the next rock in sight. Arjit, Namrata and Pushpendra
sir looked more fit than the others. Arjit leaped forward effortlessly with
ease. He was always ahead of everyone. It gave me a funny sense of inferiority .
“How much
more we have to cover?” I asked Sumit (our guide). He stretched out his right
hand and showed me the direction. It was hard to fathom that it would be
another six kilometers from here.
“Are you
feeling fine?” Aarti asked me. She had picked my bag after four kilometers. I
was not in a state to carry the bag again.
“Yeah, I’m
fine ,” I said to her with a smile. I knew inside that I was not fine.
“Take rest,”
she said.
I knew Arjit
since my college. When I used to run with him he couldn’t run continuously for two
laps of four hundred meters. He defied his tiredness in front of me. Pushpendra
Sir gave SSB for Army eleven times. His physique bore testament to his fitness.
He was the one who stopped everyone at regular intervals for photo sessions .
I glanced
down to see how far we had come. Deepak, Namrata and Shivya were a few metres
away from the resting point. Namrata with her bespectacled face, had been
scrutinizing her sister for a long time. She also motivated her in her own
unique ways but whenever she did so, Deepak and others couldn’t hide their
giggle. Shivya had been ill but she was determined to complete the trek.
“C’mon get
up!” Sumit shouted suddenly. Elisee and Grace also looked up. Elisee was form
Kenya and Grace from Congo. She looked fitter than Elisee. Elisee had some
problem in his knee. Though they couldn’t understand our local language but we
tried to explain them in English whenever we can.
The guide
didn’t broke a sweat after such a strenuous trek. Sir kept clicking pictures at
regular intervals. I was thankful to him as the pause for clicking pictures
gave me some rest. Arjit lunged forward while I lurched holding the water
bottle. I asked Aarti to give me the bag but she refused. I knew she was also tired
but she refused. She always inspired me at such times. If I felt overtly weak
she would lead and vice-versa.
“Watch your
steps. This rock is a little shaky ,” Deepak told Shivya. Shivya though already
worn out , tried to match her pace with others.
“Chal warna mai yahI chor dungi tujhe,”
Namrata yelled at her sister. Shivya gave her a scornful look. Deepak again
couldn’t hide his laugh. I tried to laugh but couldn’t. Every step didn’t seem
as an effort of the muscles. It felt like the willpower was challenged with
every step.
I wondered if
I my legs wobbled and I slip. What if I faint and fell down? Such thoughts
perturbed me once. Now I was at that point of trek where such thoughts could
enact themselves to reality. Nupur gave her bag to second guide, Keshav, who
was thin but still showed exceptional endurance as compared to his body build.
The ravine seemed endless. One couldn’t
completely tell where it turned. The thick, dense canopy of trees complemented
the view. The gorge was an array of all sizes of stones whose edges were
smoothened by the running water. It might have took millions of years for the
water current to make its way down the plains and eventually to the sea. It
might have been a large rock or stone but now it was just a pebble.
I kept
following Arjit. I tried to be patient. The tiredness was palpable. I looked at
Aarti as she also maintained her brisk movements and then I looked up. It was a
long way to go. I couldn’t articulate what it felt like.
“Hey all.
Let’s have a picture here,” Sir asked everyone to be in the frame. Namrata
again pulled up his sister. Deepak too started to throw a couple of punch lines
towards Shivya. Yet they were unknown but Namrata and Shivya felt like friends.
Whenever I felt worn out I looked at Aarti and it gave me strength.
“Smile,”
Nupur said. The pause in climbing provided some relief. A day before Nupur was
resting in Pune and now she was also pondered about the notion of trekking. She
was my best friend. I was thankful to her as she flown all along from Pune over
two thousand kilometers for the trip. I had small chit chats with her along the
way.
I pondered
if my decision to trek was right or wrong. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, I
could have been sitting in front of my laptop in office. I would have been
following a monotonous schedule of professionalism. One quote from author Jonathan
Safran Foer popped up in my mind.
“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining
under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.”
It was the
life each one of us wasn’t living. Arjit still placed his butt on a stone a few
meters ahead of us. The guide also rested this time.
“Chalo
Gulzar saab,” Deepak nicknamed Namrata. She fluffed the feathers of her thought
in Deepak’s mind.
“Gulzar saab ek ghazal ho jaye,” Sir said. Namrata also laughed. Shivya was
still silent. At least someone was like me in the group at maintaining silence.
I still calculated how many more steps I had to follow now. The guide kept
telling us to move forward. He said that it was a mere one kilometer from here.
One could
live his life in a burrow and die in it. One could get out of that and explore
places. Though we were out of energy but still the nature was at its best. It
was a transcendent reality beyond thought which couldn’t fit in the recesses of
one’s mind. One day all would be turned into dust: torn into pieces, engulfed
by water, destroyed by earthquake, consumed by sun, devastated by global
warming and disappear into oblivion.
I didn’t
know much about Namrata and Shivya. Deepak teased one by name of Gulzar and
Monga sweets. Suddenly, I heard the echoing sound of a vehicle roaring in the
mountains. I looked to my right, almost at an angle of sixty degree. There I
saw the signs of road we all had been waiting for. It felt like we were lost
and now we had to just reach there. Everyone pushed themselves up for one last
fight. After half an hour we reached up to that point. The grey colored asphalt
was protected from metal boundary form one side. All of us rested at that
place. It was an achievement that had been done. Deepak still motivated Shivya.
Everyone clapped when she reached at the top. The next target was paragliding.
I am a speck
of the same dust, this universe is made up of. The same bond holds us all
together. A few cars whizzed past us. The same city noise type sound it was.
Though we were finally where we wanted to but still I felt better when I was
lost in the deep gorges of mountains. The touch of nature was lost. The
trekking made my willpower strong. It was true that to find yourself you have
to lose yourself.
L->R Me, Elisee, Pushpedra sir, Grace, Shivya, Deepak, Keshav(on kness), Arjit, Nupur, Aarti and Namrata.
“Adventure may hurt you but monotony will kill you” ( credits Zostel at bir and Namrata)
The Zostel.
