BIR BILLING TREK

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.