For this particular entry, I shall go back in time and narrate an experience from the past. It was my nineteenth birthday and my friends & I decided to head out of town for the weekend to explore a new place. We had no destination in mind and were going to figure it out once we reached the bus stand. On reaching, we saw an over night bus leaving for Chandigarh, and hopped on to it for no rhyme or reason. The next morning, Tolia, who was familiar with the place, took the lead and became our guide for the day. We visited the rock garden (which has statues made out of bathroom fittings- classy right?), went boating in the lake and ate authentic Punjabi delicacies.
Sometime in the afternoon, Tolia suggested that we should go to Manikaran, a place with hot springs. With the winter setting in, none of us had any issues with the idea. The plan was to board the 9 pm bus which would take us to Bhuntar, a village in Himachal Pradesh, and from there change buses to reach the final destination. After getting on to the bus, we tried to sleep, but it was nearly impossible to do so as the ride resembled that of a roller coaster, with the only difference being that the bus journey lasts more than just a couple of minutes. As the driver pushed the engine to its limits in the hilly terrain, the machine moved like a raging bull, and we tossed and turned and fell on each other, and our stomachs made noises which I had never heard before. Our topsy-turvy trip finally ended when the driver brought the bus to a halt at about three in the morning. We had reached Bhuntar. The bus dropped us and sped away continuing its wild ride.
We were expecting a bus stop, a chai wallah ( a tea stall) maybe, but all we saw were a few huts, and a desolate fork junction, with one road leading to Manali and the other to Manikaran and the Beas river flowing in between the two. There was no trace of anyone except two burly guys, Hilly & Billy, standing next to a van waiting for a parcel. I wonder which courier service delivers at such an unearthly hour. Chinki, Roy, & I started chatting with them to figure out our next steps to reach the hot springs. The bad part - there were no buses for another two to three hours. The good part- there was a Gurudwara, a Sikh temple, one kilometre away where we could take refuge until morning. After taking note of the directions, we set out on foot. Tolia was not happy at the prospect of speaking to strangers as he did not trust them but we told him to chill out and relax. Just as he was getting calmed, a van stopped in front of us (yes, it was similar to the sets of a shady movie in which a van with tinted windows screeches to halt and out come the kidnappers). Hilly had picked up his parcel of boxes and was offering to drop us, but we politely declined. He insisted a couple of times, and in the end we reluctantly climbed inside. Apart from the fact that we were in a van with two strangers and each of them, twice as big as any of us, was capable of knocking us out unconscious, there was no reason to worry.
Minutes into the drive, it was Billy's turn to be hospitable. He told us to come to his place where he would prepare some freshly brewed tea. We declined again, but unfortunately they don't take no for an answer in Bhuntar. We reached Billy's house and he asked us to follow him to a staircase which was going down to a room in the basement of a building. Hilly followed closely behind. I kid you not, moments later- Billy lifted a shutter to open a room, and proudly announced it as his shop. And no, I am not imagining any of this. Why were we going to a stranger's shop, which had shutters, in a basement to have tea while the entire world was sleeping? Was I the only one freaking out? A quick glance at my friends' faces told me the story; I was not alone. Needless to say, I was not very keen to go in. As my friends went inside, I stayed out on the pretext of an incoming call (the phone did not even ring). Fortunately the two men did not doubt that someone else was awake at this hour and wanted to speak to me at the precise moment when I was about to step inside the shop. In about five minutes, things settled down and the drama ended. No, there were no fist fights, kidnappings, escapes and chases; that would have been a little too much. In any case, Hilly & Billy turned out be nice guys and as we sat sipping piping hot tea, which I must admit was really nice, Hilly told us stories about his life. Nearly an hour later, we bade the two good bye, thanked them for their hospitality, and started walking towards Manikaran. It was a moon lit night with beautiful scenery - hills on one side of the road and the Beas river on the other. At about six in the morning, nearly three hours after we had gotten off from the bus, a pair of headlights approached us and we put out our hands to stop the vehicle. It turned out be a truck and not a bus. True to the hospitable nature of the region, the driver offered us a lift. Given that we had sat in a stranger's van and gone to his friend's shop to have tea in the middle of the night, we had no qualms travelling by a truck. Contrary to what people think, trucks are extremely comfortable. There was a bed behind the driver's seat with a really soft mattress and within minutes the four of us dozed off to catch some much needed sleep. On reaching Manikaran, we gave the driver some nominal amount as a token of appreciation and left for the springs. And thus, came to an end, a very eventful night.
The rest of the day, we bathed in the hot springs, took an hour long ride on the roof of a bus to Kullu, where we did white water rafting, went to Manali to see a Dusshera fair and finally headed back to Delhi in the night. On reaching my room the next morning, I thanked my stars, crashed on my bed and slept peacefully for hours together as I had spent the previous three nights in those crazy buses.
Sometime in the afternoon, Tolia suggested that we should go to Manikaran, a place with hot springs. With the winter setting in, none of us had any issues with the idea. The plan was to board the 9 pm bus which would take us to Bhuntar, a village in Himachal Pradesh, and from there change buses to reach the final destination. After getting on to the bus, we tried to sleep, but it was nearly impossible to do so as the ride resembled that of a roller coaster, with the only difference being that the bus journey lasts more than just a couple of minutes. As the driver pushed the engine to its limits in the hilly terrain, the machine moved like a raging bull, and we tossed and turned and fell on each other, and our stomachs made noises which I had never heard before. Our topsy-turvy trip finally ended when the driver brought the bus to a halt at about three in the morning. We had reached Bhuntar. The bus dropped us and sped away continuing its wild ride.
We were expecting a bus stop, a chai wallah ( a tea stall) maybe, but all we saw were a few huts, and a desolate fork junction, with one road leading to Manali and the other to Manikaran and the Beas river flowing in between the two. There was no trace of anyone except two burly guys, Hilly & Billy, standing next to a van waiting for a parcel. I wonder which courier service delivers at such an unearthly hour. Chinki, Roy, & I started chatting with them to figure out our next steps to reach the hot springs. The bad part - there were no buses for another two to three hours. The good part- there was a Gurudwara, a Sikh temple, one kilometre away where we could take refuge until morning. After taking note of the directions, we set out on foot. Tolia was not happy at the prospect of speaking to strangers as he did not trust them but we told him to chill out and relax. Just as he was getting calmed, a van stopped in front of us (yes, it was similar to the sets of a shady movie in which a van with tinted windows screeches to halt and out come the kidnappers). Hilly had picked up his parcel of boxes and was offering to drop us, but we politely declined. He insisted a couple of times, and in the end we reluctantly climbed inside. Apart from the fact that we were in a van with two strangers and each of them, twice as big as any of us, was capable of knocking us out unconscious, there was no reason to worry.
Minutes into the drive, it was Billy's turn to be hospitable. He told us to come to his place where he would prepare some freshly brewed tea. We declined again, but unfortunately they don't take no for an answer in Bhuntar. We reached Billy's house and he asked us to follow him to a staircase which was going down to a room in the basement of a building. Hilly followed closely behind. I kid you not, moments later- Billy lifted a shutter to open a room, and proudly announced it as his shop. And no, I am not imagining any of this. Why were we going to a stranger's shop, which had shutters, in a basement to have tea while the entire world was sleeping? Was I the only one freaking out? A quick glance at my friends' faces told me the story; I was not alone. Needless to say, I was not very keen to go in. As my friends went inside, I stayed out on the pretext of an incoming call (the phone did not even ring). Fortunately the two men did not doubt that someone else was awake at this hour and wanted to speak to me at the precise moment when I was about to step inside the shop. In about five minutes, things settled down and the drama ended. No, there were no fist fights, kidnappings, escapes and chases; that would have been a little too much. In any case, Hilly & Billy turned out be nice guys and as we sat sipping piping hot tea, which I must admit was really nice, Hilly told us stories about his life. Nearly an hour later, we bade the two good bye, thanked them for their hospitality, and started walking towards Manikaran. It was a moon lit night with beautiful scenery - hills on one side of the road and the Beas river on the other. At about six in the morning, nearly three hours after we had gotten off from the bus, a pair of headlights approached us and we put out our hands to stop the vehicle. It turned out be a truck and not a bus. True to the hospitable nature of the region, the driver offered us a lift. Given that we had sat in a stranger's van and gone to his friend's shop to have tea in the middle of the night, we had no qualms travelling by a truck. Contrary to what people think, trucks are extremely comfortable. There was a bed behind the driver's seat with a really soft mattress and within minutes the four of us dozed off to catch some much needed sleep. On reaching Manikaran, we gave the driver some nominal amount as a token of appreciation and left for the springs. And thus, came to an end, a very eventful night.
The rest of the day, we bathed in the hot springs, took an hour long ride on the roof of a bus to Kullu, where we did white water rafting, went to Manali to see a Dusshera fair and finally headed back to Delhi in the night. On reaching my room the next morning, I thanked my stars, crashed on my bed and slept peacefully for hours together as I had spent the previous three nights in those crazy buses.
