walking the line
"Let's go on a trek", I said suddenly. My pal, Anil, had suggested we do something fun the past weekend. And just like that, we had a plan. Only the three of us, Anil, me and voodoo(my Labrador retriever). It was to be a day trip. The venue: Rajmachi fort. About 20 kilometres from Lonavla (a little hamlet 95 kilometres from mumbai).
So there we were. Miles away from civilisation. The great escape. Mine, from mundane work-related chores. Anil's, from all the craziness in his life the past couple of months. And voodoo's from a lifetime of lethargy caused by staying couped-up in a small apartment for most of the day. We marched along, happy, feerless and unmindful of the scorching heat. We didn't have the slightest clue of what the day had in store for us.
And what a day it was. This is the sequence of events as clearly as I can remember them. My mind's still a little blurry. We tried climbing an almost-sheer rock face (failed miserably). We were hopelessly lost after about 4 hours in the sun(and several rest stops). We were running short on water and took one risky decision. It paid off. We found a village, stocked up on water. Ate a bit. I realised i didn't have my wallet with me at this point. Voodoo, however, got some much-needed rest. He, surprisingly, was tiring much sooner than us. He, then, sprained his front leg and decided he would go no further.(thankfully we were on our way back, by now). We tried carrying him on a temporary stretcher made of a towel. Bad idea. So much for being boy-scouts. Then I thought I would be He-man and tried carrying the bugger. Did about 200 metres before i gave that idea up. Then decided to trek back down and drive up through the rugged terrain.(I drive a 10-year-old 'Maruti-800' a compact 800 cc car made only for city driving.)
So here I was, trekking back, all by myself (Anil was keeping voodoo company. I still don’t know what transpired between them. But voodoo’s not been the same since). I was worried that my car wouldn't be where I'd left it. Or maybe I'd have a flat from driving through notorious trails. Maybe, my wallet wouldn't be in the car. Half-walking. Half-running. It all turned out o.k in the end. The car was where i'd left it. All tyres intact. Wallet guffawing at me from the dash.
So much activity. Yet, so effortless. No worldly worries. All was forgotten. No negative thoughts. No responsibilities. Just the simple pleasures. Man against mother nature. Actually, man and mother nature. Pausing to smell the flowers. Literally. Eating wild fruit(inedible). Joking about the near-sightedness of this good-samaritan who'd posted paper signs showing the way to the fort (It rains 4 months of the year in these parts!). Eating the simple yet tasty food that the villagers had to offer. Walking. Talking.Laughing. Living. Not just surviving.
We had a couple of beers when we got back to civilisation. There are a couple of reasons we did this. One was to celebrate the end of a successful trek. (We didn't succeed in conquering the fort, though. We'll just have to fight that battle another day.) The other was that the beers helped ease the pain of returning to the routines we call lives.
Why can't the rest of my life be more like that trek?
