Himachal is known as the abode of the Gods.
Pristine, beautiful and one with nature, the mountains of Himachal are the most beautiful in the world. The roads are narrow and one has a breath taking view of mountain peaks that seem to touch the skies, and deep gorges that can give any person an instant vertigo. Himachal is also a sleepy place where the businesses & shops close at dusk.
It is thus a matter of surprise for a city person to land in Dalhousie at two hours after midnight and to expect something/ someone to be around. Even the stray animals are sleeping soundly at that hour. Those who are impatient of this lazy attitude of the locals, try to find some transportation to the photo-scenic town of Khajjiar (the official Switzerland of India); and ends up hitching a ride on a milk truck; whose driver helpfully allows one to ride with him the 24 kilometers to Khajjiar for only a small fee, paid in advance.
Sitting in that milk truck and watching the winding road under the full moon-light can be a lovely experience, till the truck grinds to a halt in the middle of nowhere. After 15 minutes of trying to get the truck to move, the driver gives up all efforts and decides to sleep under the truck; which is at a standstill right in the middle of the road. Since being hit by another speeding vehicle under the full moon’s light is a chance that one does not want to take; one gets out and ponders on the situation, especially where to sit and/or sleep till the dawn arrives.
With no real guidance from one’s new found travel associate and the useful bit of information from mile marker stone that Khajjiar is only 06 km away; the rather adventurous idea of trekking that last few miles under the bright moonlight takes hold. A few moments of hesitation and one starts walking boldly down the road, with a deep gorge on one side and forest covered cliffs on the other. The fresh mountain air puts a spring in one’s step and rough calculations of the mind puts the destination only a two hours hike away.
As the milk truck fades way in the back and the moonlight seems a bit dimmer, enthusiasm is replaced to a certain degree by uncertainty and a bit of slowing down in one’s steps towards the destination. The silence seems to enhance one’s hearing and the rustling of the trees in the slight wind seems as loud as a storm.
One starts to notice small gleaming green lights dancing in trees and following along, but is unable to decide the source of these lights till one notice’s that it’s the color of eyes of the monkey(s) who are following alongside in the trees, perhaps attracted by something that one is wearing or by the hope of getting food from the insane middle-of-the-night trekker.
Not wanting to be bitten by a monkey (one has always heard of horror stories in the media) one reaches inside the small back pack for a weapon, anything to defend oneself from the animals of the wild; and gets hold of the spray deodorant. With the can held firmly in one hand and the mobile phone in the other, one is now fully prepared to defend oneself by spraying the attacking animals with the powerful deodorant while making them listen to the music play list at full volume.
The pace is now faster, a bit off a trot while one tries to guess from which flank the marauding monkeys will attack. So intense is the concentration on the monkeys that one trots around a bend and almost runs into the mountain bear ambling down the road. It is hard to determine who is more surprised and afraid; the man or the bear; but there is a very silent pause as man, bear and monkey assess the situation.
The Indian bear is unlike the tall grizzly of the North Americas. It is smaller in size, maybe five feet tall at full stretch and does not seem too bulky. But, in the moonlight night it is a villain to be overcome. Moments pass as man and beast study each other and the bear makes the first move. Maybe it just wants to hug the man or maybe shake hands, the motive is unclear, but as the bear steps near, the human high-tech weapons are brought into action.
When loud music has no visible effect on the bear, deodorant is sprayed in the bear’s face, with the wild hope that it will have the same effect as that of pepper spray. The bear sniffs at the spray, almost as if to appreciate the perfume; and then starts sneezing violently, with accompanying loud grunts. Unable to determine, whether the bear’s grunts are from the sneezing or a sign of an impending attack one’s feet takes wings and the steadfast trekker is transformed into a long distance runner.
Soon, the steps start to falter as the lungs gasp for air and the hymns of worship calling upon the Gods for protection are being repeated in the mind as one walks at a fast trot towards the destination. Time seems to drag and every strange sound is amplified in the dark, as the eyes seek desperately for any sigh of humans or human habitat.
Panic is replaced by exhaustion, as the legs start to weigh a ton each and each step is an effort. Suddenly, the skies start to lighten as the sun starts to rise. Sunrise in the Himalayas is fast and before one can sing the complete national anthem, the sun is high in the sky, lighting up the awesome mountain ranges of the lower Himalayas and the majestic snow capped peaks far away on the horizon.
As one finally straggles into the small six-shop hamlet of Khajjiar; one heaves a sigh of relief in surviving the night and close encounters of the bear kind.
Statutory Note: Dying of animal bites can be injurious to one’s health.
