Dr. Sameer Roy Chowdhury got posted to Nandigaon, a rural posting for a junior doctor, although Nandigaon is more of a mufassil town than a village with a municipal hospital in place. Sameer checked into his residential quarter behind the municipal hospital and joined the hospital in the morning. There were two other doctors but they lived in their own houses in the town. All three worked out an arrangement wherein Sameer would take care of any emergency cases at night being next door to the hospital and in lieu can enjoy extra off days to visit his parents once a month. Life in the mufassil town does not offer much excitement and falls in a routine very quickly.
On that eventful rainy evening, Sameer was studying for his NEET exams for PG course, the cook had prepared the dinner and left for the day. Around 9 pm Sameer decided to have dinner and started heating up the food in the microwave. There was a knock on his door. He opened the door to find the ward-boy Gopal standing under the umbrella… “Doctor, please come quickly to the hospital, there’s an accident victim in critical condition.” Gopal said with urgency.
“Okay, you go and help Wasim to clean the wounds, I will join you soon.” Sameer replied.
He put the food back in the refrigerator, taking his white coat and locking the house he rushed to the hospital. The hospital building is single storey with a long corridor having rooms on either side. There was hardly any patient at night, therefore only a skeletal staff on the night shift. Most of the lights were switched off with only two tube lights on either end of the corridor lighting up the space. The emergency toom was right at the beginning of the corridor where Sameer found a bloodied man on the stretcher trolley, there were visible injury on his head, arm and leg, the man was crying in pain. Sameer took a quick look at the victim decided to shift him to the operation theatre (OT) for surgery, the only hope to save his life.
The male nurse, Wasim was cleaning up the wounds and dressing the area, he wanted to quickly finish the job and go home to attend family function. He said, “It is not necessary, Doctor Sahib, we can let him go after the dressing of the wounds.”
“What are you saying, Wasim? The patient is not in a state to sit up even…is there anyone from his family?” Sameer asked.
“There’s no one with him, he was lying on the road and a kind autorickshaw driver brought him here”, replied Wasim as a matter of fact.
“Let’s not waste any more time and take him to the OT” saying so, Sameer started pushing the trolley. Gopal and Wasim joined him to push the trolley. The OT, on the far end of the corridor was locked, it took some time to locate the guard and get the keys. Gopal unlocked the door, Sameer and Wasim pushed the trolley and shifted the man on the operation table.
“Wasim, please boil some water immediately while I check on the patient” Sameer commanded.
The middle-aged man from the upcountry was in a bad shape… a deep wound on the forehead, a dislocated jaw, blood oozing out from the wounded chest, suggesting broken ribcage. Sameer switched on the focus lights of the operating table and was shocked to see the man. He knew him… Subol da from his village, a gentle soul, used to work on his father’s farm. Subol da lost his wife and young son in a road accident few years ago. The tragedy was too much for him to bear and he lost his mind. Sameer’s mother used to feed him and take care of him, then one day he disappeared from the village.
Sameer called out, “Subol da, Subol da, can you hear me?”
Subol looked at Sameer, his eyes blood red, he seemed to recognise him. His lips moved a little and he said uncomprehendingly something, feebly.
“Would like to drink some water, Subol da?” Sameer asked with concern.
Gopal brought a glass of water and Sameer fed Subol a few drops, a gurgling sound came out from his throat and his head tilted on the side letting out the water from his mouth. Sameer, checked the pulse and nodded sadly at his assistants, “Subol da is no more. Gopal, please arrange to shift the body in the morgue.”
Wasim covered the body with a white sheet and asked, “Doctor, you know him?”
“Yes, he is from my village. My mother used to adore him, she took care of him after tragedy hit him when he lost his wife and son in an accident.” Sameer replied.
“Then we should inform someone in his family” Wasim said hopefully.
“There’s no one in his family. Let the police take necessary action in the morning. Meanwhile, you go and get the paperwork ready, I will wash up and write up the report.”
Sameer looked at his bloodied hands, took out the ring from his finger and began to wash. Gopal went out to call the morgue assistant.
The guard came to lock the operation theatre as Sameer was drying his hand. He went back to the emergency room to write up the report. The guard locked the room and went to his post.
As he started writing, memories flooded his mind… he remembered Subol da telling him stories when he was young, giving him a ride on his bicycle and teaching him how to cycle. He also remembered how melancholy he had become after losing his family. His mother ensured, Subol da gets proper food everyday and tried to cheer him up…
“What are you thinking, Doctor?” Wasim’s question broke his reverie. He started writing up the report and signed it putting an official stamp on the report. As he was putting the pen away, he noticed that his ring is missing. He remembered taking it out to wash his hand in the OT washbasin. The gold ring, with an amethyst stone was specially made for him by his mother, it was special. He rushed out to retrieve it from the OT.
The corridor was empty as the few patients occupying the benches have gone home after getting treated. The tube light at the other end of the corridor near the OT has started flickering, signalling time to change it. When he reached the OT door, he found it locked, he called out to Gopal to get the keys from the guard.
While waiting for Gopal to bring the key, he felt the air around him getting heavy, the flickering of the light gave an eeriness to the surrounding especially as the morgue happened to be the room opposite to the operation theatre. There was no sign of Gopal or the guard, he started walking back to look for the key himself. He took few steps but stopped at the sound of the lock being opened. He turned around to see the guard opening the OT room door. Sameer was perplexed, where did he come from? I didn’t see him coming. He thought.
After a little while, the guard came out from the room but did not look at Sameer, in fact he stood with his back facing him.
“Did you get my ring?” Sameer asked.
The guard simply stood there silently.
“What happened? Did you bring out my ring?” Sameer asked, desperation showing in his voice.
Without saying a word, the guard extended his hand backwards holding the ring. Sameer took the ring and immediately felt an icy cold wave pass through his body. He looked at the figure closely. This is not the guard, he wears a proper uniform, this one is wearing a pajama and torn shirt.
“Who are you?” Sameer called out. His voice had become shrill in unknown fear.
The man slowly turned around to face Sameer.
Sameer was shocked to find Subol da standing, the deep wound on the forehead, the incapacitated left arm dangling on the side. He let out a deafening scream and started running back to the emergency room. Then he saw Gopal and the guard coming with key.
“What happened Doctor Sahib?” Gopal asked with concern.
Sameer took hold of Gopal, shivering violently and blurted out, “Subol da.”
“What about him? Where is he? I kept his body in the morgue.” Gopal said.
“He was in front of the OT, he went in to fetch my ring from the room.” Sameer spoke haltingly, still impacted by fear. He showed them the ring on his finger.
“What are you saying sir, I locked the door myself and keys are still with me” the guard replied.
“Let’s go and check the OT.” Gopal said as he walked towards the OT. Wasim too joined them.
The OT room was locked and so was the mortuary room. Sameer spoke in a dazed state, “But, I saw Subol da going in and bringing out my ring.”
Wasim, placed his hands on Sameer’s shoulder like an elder brother and said, “Consider this as a favor returned. Your Subol da just paid back all the love and favors that your mother showered on him. The spirits do return to pay their debts.”
My alma mater, Raisina Bengali School, will be celebrating Centenary on January 2, 2025, my dear friend Ashishh, asked me to write about my days in the school. I asked myself, where do I begin? Actually, it is impossible to write about the days spent in the school in few pages…memories exceed beyond terabytes… so, I decided to write few incidences that have remained imprinted in the mind.
But before that, a bit about my iconic school, Raisina Bengali School… it was Raisina Bengali Higher Secondary School when I joined in Class-IV, later when the 8+3 curriculum was replaced with 10+2, it became Raisina Bengali Senior Secondary School, but more popularly just as Raisina Bengali School… from a single school it now has 3 branches, Senior School at Mandir Marg and C R Park and a Junior School, also at C R Park.
From a humble beginning on January 2, 1925 from a shared space near the Willingdon Hospital (Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia Hospital) to the Baird Lane to the present Mandir Marg is long journey that the school covered. Shri Makhan Lal Mukherjee started the journey with just 57 eager students who were primarily the children of the government officials that moved to Delhi from Calcutta (Kolkata) when the British Govt moved its Capital to New Delhi in 1911. Today, it is one of the prominent English medium senior secondary schools with the CBSE curriculum, contributing wholesomely to the city’s educational space as also ensuring the Bangla is taught as a compulsory language till middle school.
My school is not just an education hub but deeply rooted to the Bengali culture, language and literature. Throughout its journey, the students of the school have not only excelled academically but have spread their wings successfully in the field of sports, entertainment as well as management/ governance. The iconic building of the school at Mandir Marg has been declared as a Heritage Building by the Delhi Govt. I feel extremely proud to be part of such a rich heritage.
I joined the school in class-IV from an English-only kindergarten (nursery) school and it took me some time to adjust. For example, calling my female teachers “AUNTY” instead of “DIDIMONI” drew plenty of teasing from classmates. Soon enough, though, I settled in and became part of a close-knit group that remained fiercely loyal and together until we graduated in 1980.
THE EXTENDED FOOTBALL MATCH
We were in class 8, getting a free period because the subject teacher being on leave and non-availability of an alternative teacher, was rare phenomenon but happened once-in-while. On that fateful day, we got a free third-period and decided to play football. Normally, we would have played at the lower ground of the school premises but that day, someone suggested we go to the ground on the rocks which was quite a distance from the school premises.
Football runs in the vein of Bongs, we can play it anytime, anywhere, in any conditions for many hours together. It was no exception that day either, we played for hours, oblivious to the ‘bell’ announcing the end/beginning of a class. We even forgot about the recess and continued playing till we were exhausted. One of us, and if I am not mistaken, Amit Mukherjee went back to have water (there wasn’t any concept of water bottles then) and was ‘caught’ by our revered Shyamal Sir (Shri S. Roy Chowdhury). A twist of his ear and palm mark of Shyamal Sir on his cheek was enough for him to spill the beans. A “good boy” was sent to fetch us. We came back like a herd of sheep and received the same treatment from Shyamal Sir. The collective punishment often bonds the students in brotherhood and it was no different, for us it was a battle scar that we proudly remember and often reminiscence.
THE GHOSTLY BIOLOGY LAB
Before the new Science block came in existence, the biology lab used to be next to the watercoolers and somehow gave us jitters whenever we passed by it, maybe, because of the skeleton (real) and a number of jars of formalin solution containing different species. Barring the brilliant guys with scientific bent of mind, we generally avoided going there but when we were in class IX, it became mandatory to attend the practical classes in the lab. In one such class, Ashishh, Atish and I were a team dissecting a frog and failing miserably. On top of it, our table was next to the skeleton, we were focussing more on it than the assignment on hand.
Suddenly, Ashishh whispered, “Did you see that”?
“What?” Atish and I asked simultaneously.
“The skeleton… it moved.” Ashishh replied, his voice wavered in unknown fear.
We would have run from there but Atish and I had an inquisitive mind and principal member of the “detective club” called We Investigate Anything (WIA), so we looked closer and indeed the hand of the skeleton was in motion, though slow, it was winter days with no source of wind inside the classroom. We were scared to death and slowly started moving out from our station. The group next to us looked at us questioningly and when we revealed, they also started to walkout, soon it became a pandemonium, none of us were willing to continue in the lab. The lab assistant, Dulari Sir had a harrowing time controlling the herd of students.
“There’s a ghost…the skeleton has come alive and moving.” Ashishh blurted out.
Dulari Sir laughed aloud and said, “Come with me and show me what you saw.”
With much reluctance we went with him to our table and pointed to the hand of the skeleton. Lo and behold, it moved again. We screamed together, “Gho…os…ttt”
Dulari Sir ignoring our screams, went ahead and shook the hand of the skeleton. PHATT, came the sound of a pebble hitting the floor… we could see an overturned beetle lying on the floor. Dulari Sir laughed hysterically at our stupidity. Narayan Sir (Shri N. C. Mukherjee), our biology teacher mockingly hailed us “the brave trio”. It became a running joke for the rest of our school days.
ENCOUNTER OF DIFFERENT KIND
Sanyal Sir (Shri B. Sanyal), our English teacher was a terror for the students across classes. As junior students, we used to avoid going anywhere near him, not knowing which action of ours would bring his wrath upon us. As luck would have it, he became our class-teacher when were in class-X, we dreaded our first meeting with him.
After the roll call, he asked us to introduce ourselves. Our timid voice did not reach him. He roared, “Haven’t you guys eaten anything? Speak up loudly, I can’t hear you.”
Once the introduction was over, he said, “My teaching style is different, I won’t make you rote learn the course but make you love the language. Let me see, what level of English you guys know. Tell me the meaning of the “Gunny Bag”. There was pin-drop silence in the class, no one dared to venture an answer. He looked at Biswanath and asked, “You tell me.” Bishu mumbled incoherently which enraged him immensely, he got up from his chair walking up to Bishu, ready to thrash him when a voice from another corner said, “Bosta” (Bengali for sack). He turned around to see the voice but all lips were sealed by then. A few unfortunate classmates received his wrath that morning but thereafter he mellowed down and became really fond of us. He would go on to shield us from the higher ups for all our sins. He became particularly fond of Atish and me… often referring us as the twins lost in Kumbh mela. I vividly remember his guidance after the “gunny bag” incidence wherein he told us, “Stop thinking in Bangla and then answering in English. Start thinking in English if you want to master both the spoken and written language.” It became a mantra for me.
Another teacher who inspired and shaped my personae was our Principal Shri A. N. Banerjee. He very early on, realized that the students were intelligent and bright, but they lack the confidence of public speaking. He ruled that each and every student must speak on any subject in their preferred language for 5 minutes during the assembly. The initiative helped many of my peers in later days of their career.
I must also mention here of Tiwari Sir (Shri P. G. Tiwari) who has been a father figure during my school days. I have never seen him getting angry even when we made silly mistakes or have been raucous in the class. His premature passing away left a big void for the school as well as for the students.
The other teachers that left a lasting impression on me are Prasanta Sir (Shri P. Roy Chowdhury) for his patience and humbleness. He made me love the subject through his unique way of teaching.
As I progressed to higher classes, I became scared of maths and my grades dropped consistently. Shyamal Sir (Shri S. Roy Chowdhury), came to my rescue spending hours with me to help me get over my fears of mathematics. His untiring tutoring propelled me take the subject in college as well as clear the exams with good marks.
THE HOLI INCIDENT
We were in class-XI and exams round the corner as well as the festival of colours, HOLI. Our Principal, Amarnath Sir, during the assembly barred us from playing with colours in the school premises. If he hadn’t said so, we would not have given any thoughts about it but now the rebel inside us woke up and we decided to defy the order. A day before the Holi, Bishu (Bishwanath) brought packets of ABIR (Gulal or coloured powder); during the recess time, the entire class including the girls were plastered in myriad hues of ABIR. Our best efforts to wash them before returning to the class did not work, we all looked like an army of monkeys.
Someone must have complained to the Principal Sir; cane in hand, he stormed into our class and marched us to his chamber.
“Didn’t I tell you not to play with colors in the school premises?”
“Yes” we said.
“Then why did you do it?”
Silence.
“Who brought the colours?” he asked losing his patience.
Silence again.
“I am asking you again, who brought the colours?”
“The colours were with me.” This time Bishwanath spoke up.
Amarnath Sir ignoring his answer, repeated his question and Bishwanath kept replying that the colours were with him. This continued for a while.
We all received canings, but not one of us broke the code of silence. That day, we truly understood the meaning of OMERTA—the brotherhood of silence—and the importance of phrasing questions correctly to get the right answers.
THE DIWALI EXPLOSION
We hadn’t forgotten the HOLI punishment at the hands of our principal, Shri A. N. Banerjee Sir and in our last academic year (class XII Commerce) decided to leave a lasting impression of our mischief. In the morning assembly before the Diwali holidays, he prohibited use of crackers including bombs during school hours. During the recess, few of us went to the nearby market and bought the crackers.
In Classes XI and XII, students could opt for either Mathematics or Bengali. This meant that one group often had a free period while the other was in class. On that chosen day, the Bengali group was in class, and we—the Mathematics group—had a free period after recess. Perfect conditions for our plan.
We discussed our strategy and promised ourselves that none of us would get caught this time. All the bombs (crackers) were perfectly timed by removing some of the gunpowder from the fuselage ensuring that we were not in the vicinity when it exploded.
As we were placing the first one on the windowsill of the toilet adjacent to the Principal Sir’s chamber, Tiwari Sir caught us. Instead of reprimanding us, he was more concerned that the bomb would explode on our face!!
The last one was placed on top of the nameplate outside the Principal Sir’s chamber… when it exploded, we were in deep discussion with Sanyal Sir near the Science Block. He smiled and said, “I know, who did this but your secrets are safe with me.”
In all, more than a dozen bomb exploded at different locations within the school. We chose the spots carefully to avoid anyone getting hurt. The Principal Sir was convinced of our involvement in the cracker explosions but could not prove it. The concept of OMERTA prevailed.
DISCLAIMER
The mischievous incidents described here should not be taken too seriously. They were merely youthful pranks. We respected our teachers deeply then, and we still do now. Without their guidance, patience, and love, we might never have realized our potential. Instead of becoming wayward vagabonds, we grew into capable adults—thanks in no small part to the teachers and the environment at Raisina Bengali School.
My mum used to make veg sandwiches, chop cucumber n tomatoes and spread butter on bread on the same cutting board with the same knife, but we didn’t seem to get food poisoning.
Our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in ice pack coolers and stayed that way till lunchtime but I can’t remember anyone getting e Coli
We dipped our feet in lakes and ponds and didnt come home half dead with infection.
We all took P.T….. And risked permanent injury with a pair of white keds from Batas, instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors that cost as much as a small car. I can’t recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now if we spend thousands on branded running shoes
We got a slap at home for doing something wrong at school, they used to call it discipline, yet we all grew up to accept the rules and to honour & respect those older than us.
We chanted the mathematics tables, learned to read and write, do maths and spell almost all the words needed to write a grammatically correct letter……., FUNNY THAT!!
We all said prayers in school irrespective of our religion, or sang the national anthem and no one got upset.
Staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention and we tried not to mention it at home.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can’t recall how bored we were without smart phones, computers, Play Station, Nintendo, Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp, Instagram, YouTube, etc. X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations. We weren’t!!
Oh yeah … And where were the antibiotics and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting or bruised our knee? I could even have been killed!
We played catch or cricket on vacant sites and when we got hurt, mum pulled out the bottle of iodine or Dettol and we dreaded the sting or then it was calendula and mercury chrome.
Now it’s a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10 day dose of antibiotics and then mum calls the lawyer to sue the site owner for not putting up a fence.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family. How could we possibly have known that?
We never needed to get into group therapy and/or anger management classes. If there was ever anything psychologically wrong with us there were ten people at home waiting to tell us.
We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn’t even notice that the entire country wasn’t taking Prozac!
How did we ever survive?
LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA. AND TO ALL WHO DIDN’T, SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED. I WOULDN’T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING!
Let’s go somewhere in the coming week, declared Deepika.
Where? I asked knowing well that I will have to search the destination. I shortlisted few places… Varanasi, Corbett, Kanataal, Aurangabad and Goa. All of them are drivable as far as I am concerned.
Let’s go to Aurangabad but fly down because I have to be back by Saturday. So, in 24 hours, the flight ticket bought and hotel booked. Sumita (Deepika’s friend) joined us this time.
Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar (Aurangabad)
There are four direct flights to Aurangabad, 2 in the morning and 2 in the evening. We took the evening Indigo flight and reached Aurangabad around 6:15 pm and in the hotel by 7pm. There was a bit of confusion at the airport… Deepika had booked a taxi service for our entire stay right from airport pickup to drop. She received the vehicle number and we were surprised to find a Toyota Innova and then another group of seven also claimed it to be theirs’ but we beat them in occupying. The driver was in a dilemma and called the owner to explain the confusion. The owner realised his mistake and gave us the number of another vehicle, fortunately, the car, a Suzuki Desire was there at the airport parking and came to us in quick time.
Once we checked into the Hotel Click, suggested by my friend Tapas, we freshened up and went to The Bhoj Thali Restaurant at CIDCO, next to Fern’s Residency. The speciality of this restaurant is the Thali consisting of over 21+ items and unlimited regional delicacies and non-alcoholic local drinks. We were not very hungry but still enjoyed the tasty platter and when we thought we are done, they brought Khichdi and Rice which we had to decline.
Ajanta Caves
Ajanta Caves are about 100 km from Aurangabad on way to Jalna and takes approx. 2.5 – 3.0 hours, most of the road stretch is in good condition with work in progress at few points. We had a quick breakfast and by the time we are done, the cab also arrived at the hotel.
We checked about the road condition with the young driver, Samadhan (Solution) and he confirmed that roads have been re-laid/newly constructed however there are patches where work is still going on. He said that he makes at least ten trips to Ajanta every month.
It took us about 2.5 hours to reach our destination. We paid for the parking and use of utilities and was told to proceed for the bus which will take us to the cave site. The bus ride costs INR 30 per person each way for non-AC coach and INR 35 for AC, though I couldn’t find any AC coach. The drive was through serpentine hilly track of 4.5 km and took about 10 minutes.
The Ajanta Caves dates back to 2nd century BCE through 6th century CE and had been a sanctuary for the Buddhist Monks and their disciples. The caves are adorned with sculptures as well as paintings that still reflect vibrant colours. There are 30 caves but some of them remains unfinished…the important ones to explore are 1, 2, 16, 17 & 19 for mural paintings and 1, 4, 17, 24 & 26 for sculptures. The cave number 9, 10, 19, 26 & 29 are Chaitya Halls while the others are Viharas. Out of these, Chaitya caves 9, 10 and Viharas 8, 12, 13 & 30 belongs to Hinayan system where instead of the Buddha Idol, the symbols associated with Gautam Buddha such as Dharma Chakra in the shape of Lotus, Stupa and the Bodhi Tree were worshipped through 2nd century BCE to 2nd century CE. The other caves excavated after long break belongs to the 5th & 6th century CE and belongs to the Mahayana sect. These caves have the image and idol of Gautam Buddha in various postures.
The theme of the paintings is Jataka Tales right from the birth of Buddha to his attaining Moksha. Similar themes can be found in the sculptures as well. The fascinating details in the sculptures and the use of vivid colours in the paintings made us wonder at the creativity and workmanship of our ancestors. They not only hand carved those caves cutting up the mountains, large enough for habitation but created chambers for different activities without any modern tools and machines. We were told that the caves were carved out at different periods over many centuries. After the decline of Buddhism some time in the 6th century CE, the caves were abandoned and remain hidden behind thick foliage and jungle for many centuries. It was accidentally discovered by a British Cavalry Officer named Captain John Smith in 1819 while hunting a tiger, he stumbled upon the horseshoe shaped rock with many caves having Buddhist artifacts inside…couldn’t resist to leave a graffiti message on a painting in the cave number 10, “John Smith, 28th Cavalry, 28th April 1819”.
We spent more than 3.5 hours exploring the caves and each one fascinated us with its creativity and workmanship…told us stories of the bygone era. Even the unfinished caves have their own stories to tell if only someone has the patience to sit back and meditate.
On the way back to the parking, we stopped at a shop to buy few rough-cut stones like amethyst and crystal. I bought two idols of Ganesha and Radha-Krishna as an act of charity from a roadside vendor.
While driving back, Samadhan, our driver received a call from his uncle that his father had a paralytic stroke and taken to the hospital. On returning to the city, he still took us to the shop specializing in Paithani Silk sarees and dress material as he had promised to Deepika and Sumita. I pray to Madhav for his father’s quick and complete recovery.
We rested for about half hour in our rooms while our phones were charging then went to another famous restaurant of Aurangabad called The Great Sagar specialising in Mughal cuisine. We were told their specialty dish is Naan Khaliya, a non-veg preparation of either chicken or mutton and served with thick naan or Khamiri Roti. It sounded to be a good dish and Sumita decided to try it out the chicken version, I wasn’t so sure, so opted for the tried n tested mutton biriyani while poor vegetarian Deepika was stuck with dal-tadka, paneer and roti. As it turned out, the Naan Khaliya is a overhyped dish…it is basically a spicy soupy curry of chicken or mutton with naan, a damp squib. Deepika found the vegetarian dishes below par, but the biriyani was decent flavourful with well cooked mutton pieces. Overall, it was not a pleasant dining experience especially after our visit to the Bhoj Restaurant.
Back in the hotel, we played Rummy till midnight… needless to say I did not win a single hand.
Ellora Caves
We started a bit late for the Ellora caves as the cab designated to us had a flat tyre and came late to pick us. We had earmarked few other places to see besides Ellora. Our first destination was Ghrishneshwar Temple, close to the Ellora caves. Ghrishneshwar means “lord of compassion”.
Ghrishneshwar Jyotirlinga is a Hindu temple of Shiva in Verul village of Aurangabad district and considered as the 12thJyotirlinga mandir. The mandir is a national protected site, 1.5 Km away from the Ellora Caves and approx. 30 kilometres north-west of the city Aurangabad. Ghrishneshwar finds mention in various scriptures such as Shiva Purana, Skanda Purana, Ramayana and the Mahabharata.
The temple structure, just like the Somnath Temple in Gujarat, was relentlessly attacked and destroyed by the Delhi Sultanate in 13th and 14th centuries. It was re-built by Maloji Bhosale, grandfather of Shivaji Maharaj in the 16th century only to see another destruction by the barbaric Mughal empire. The current form of the temple was re-built in the 18th century under the sponsorship of Queen Ahilyabai Holkar of Indore. Today, it is an important and active pilgrimage site of the Hindus and attracts devotees from across the country. There is no bar in entering the temple premises and its inner chambers, but to enter the sanctum sanctorum or garbha-gruha of the temple, the local Hindu tradition demands that men must go bare-chested just like in Guruvayur Temple in Kerala.
Deepika and Sumita went inside the temple while I remained outside guarding their belongings. Mobile phones and cameras are not allowed inside, like in many other Hindu pilgrimage sites, a practice, I neither understand nor support. It took them more than half hour to perform the rituals and we started off for the Ellora Caves.
As you enter the Ellora Cave complex, the majestic Kailasha Temple (cave no.16) welcomes you. The Kailasha temple is the largest of the rock-cut temples at the ElloraCaves. A megalith carved from a cliff face, it is considered one of the most remarkable cave temples in the world because of its size, architecture, and sculptural treatment. It has been called “the climax of the rock-cut phase of Indian architecture“. The top of the structure over the sanctuary is 107 ft above the level of the court below. Although the rock face slopes downwards from the rear of the temple to the front, archaeologists believe it was sculpted from a single rock. The complete temple complex gives an impression of a Chariot on the move.
The KailasaTemple (Cave 16) is the largest of the 34 Brahminical, Buddhist, and Jain cave temples and monasteries known collectively as the Ellora Caves, ranging for over two kilometers along the sloping basalt cliff at the site. Most of the excavation of the temple is generally attributed to the eighth century Rashtrakuta King Krishna-I (756 – 773), with some elements completed later. The temple architecture shows traces of Pallava and Chalukya styles. The temple contains a number of relief and free-standing sculptures on a grand scale equal to the architecture, though only traces remain of the paintings which originally decorated it.
The Kailasa Temple is notable for its vertical excavation—carvers started at the top of the original rock and excavated downward. The traditional methods were rigidly followed by the master architect which could not have been achieved by excavating from the front.
“The local Marathi legend, Katha-Kalpataru by Krishna Yajnavalki (c. 1470-1535 CE) mentions that the local king suffered from a severe disease. His queen prayed to the god Ghrishneshwar (Shiva) at Elapura (Ellora) to cure her husband. She vowed to construct a temple if her wish was granted, and promised to observe a fast until she could see the shikhara (top) of this temple. After the king was cured, she requested him to build a temple immediately, but multiple architects declared that it would take months to build a temple complete with a shikhara. One architect named Kokasa assured the king that the queen would be able to see the shikhara of a temple within a week’s time. He started building the temple from the top, by carving a rock. He was able to finish the shikhara within a week’s time, enabling the queen to give up her fast. The temple was named Manikeshwar after the queen.”
The entrance to the temple courtyard features a low Gopuram. Most of the deities at the left of the entrance are Shaivite (followers of Shiva) while on the right-hand side the deities are Vaishnavites (followers of Vishnu). A two-storeyed gateway opens to reveal a U-shaped courtyard, edged by a columned arcade three storeys high. The arcades are punctuated by huge sculpted panels, and alcoves containing enormous sculptures of a variety of deities. Some of the most famous sculptures are Shiva the ascetic, Shiva the dancer, Shiva being warned by Parvati about the demon Ravana and river goddess Ganges coming out of Shiva’s knotted hair.
Within the courtyard, there is a central shrine dedicated to Shiva, and an image of his mount Nandi (the sacred bull). The central shrine housing the lingam features a flat-roofed mandapa supported by 16 pillars, and a Dravidian shikhara. The shrine – complete with pillars, windows, inner and outer rooms, gathering halls, and an enormous stone lingam at its heart – is carved with niches, plasters, windows as well as images of deities, maithuna (erotic male and female figures) and other figures. As is traditional in Shiva temples, Nandi sits on a porch in front of the central temple. The Nandi mandapa and main Shiva temple are each about 7 metres high, and built on two storeys. The lower storeys of the Nandi mandapa are both solid structures, decorated with elaborate illustrative carvings. The base of the temple has been carved to suggest that elephants are holding the structure aloft. A rock bridge connects the Nandi mandapa to the porch of the temple. The base of the temple hall features scenes from Mahabharata and Ramayana. There are five detached shrines in the temple premises; three of these are dedicated to the river goddesses: Ganga, Yamuna and Saraswati. There are two Dwajasthambs (pillars with flagstaff) in the courtyard. A notable sculpture is that of the Ravana attempting to lift Mount Kailasa.
After being awestruck by the magnitude of the marvelous Kailasha Temple, we proceeded to see the cave nos. 30 to 34, the Jain excavations. We were taken there by an electric van… the distance almost 2 km from the entrance gate. The cave number 32 is the biggest of the caves having a large hall with antechambers and the sculpture of Lord Mahavira. Its 2-storey cave with steep unequal stairs going up to reveal a serene room fit for meditation. There is a connecting narrow corridor to the cave no.34. We were sceptical of the unequal stairs and decided to climb down carefully, no point in injuring oneself at this ripe age.
The EV took us to the cave number 29, another massive cave structure, 46 metre wide and almost 6 metre high. It has a group of halls in the form of a cross with wide columns and a pair stone lion guarding the entrance. Everything in this cave is huge… Lord Siva with eight arms depicting the fearsome destroyer. Another colossal Shiva in Nataraj dance posture in the portico.
We were dropped back to the main entrance gate from where we walked towards the cave nos. 10 to 1 but midway, Sumita decided to stay back because of exhaustion. These are primarily Buddhist excavation quite similar to the ones at Ajanta. We quickly reviewed these and left for the Bhadra Maruti Temple dedicated to Lord Hanuman.
At the Bhadra Maruti Temple, located in Khuldabad, the idol of Lord Hanuman is portrayed in a reclining or sleeping posture. It is one of only three places where Lord Hanuman is represented in a sleeping posture. The other two places are on the banks of Ganges at Triveni Sangam in Prayagraj, Uttar Pradesh and at Jam Sawali, Madhya Pradesh.
“According to a folklore, in ancient times the Khuldabad was known as Bhadravati and the ruler was a noble king named Bhadrasena, who was an ardent devotee of Lord Rama and used to sing songs in His praise. One day Lord Hanuman descended in the place, listening to the devotional songs sung in praise of his master, Lord Rama. He was mesmerized and without his knowledge took a reclining posture – called ‘Bhava-samadhi’ (yogic posture). King Bhadrasena, when he had finished his song, was astonished to find Hanuman in Samadhi before him. He requested Hanuman to reside there forever and bless his as well as Lord Rama’s devotees.”
Normally, I don’t go inside any religious places unless it has some architectural, historical significance but it had very little crowd and on Deepika’s insistence went inside. It’s a comparatively small temple, quite clean. Inside the temple it was clearly mentioned that photography is not allowed but there were people, not devotees…(they can’t be called devotees if they do not have the basic sense of discipline) rampantly ignoring/ disobeying the order and taking pictures as well as selfies. I felt disgusted at their callousness. Within the complex, there exists another small open temple dedicated to Shani Dev. Just outside the temple perimeter, some vendors were selling Puja Samagri including mustard oil in a small bottle, Deepika was about to buy when I noticed that only male members are allowed to do the puja. I do not know the reason behind it and will ask my learned friend Acharya Indrajit Ji but found it very patriarchal, especially in these modern times. Another interesting thing I learned recently that the Shani Dev idol is never covered from the top, it stands under the open sky irrespective of weather.
Sumita wanted to buy Paithani Saree and Himroo Shawl right from the time we decided to come to Aurangabad. These are speciality items of the region and well known even beyond the borders. While coming from the city, we had seen few shops selling such items. I went with them in the first shop but realised that it was not for me, I decided to sit in the car while my phone got charged, allowing me to take a quick power nap that got me recharged for the evening.
We visited the Bibi ka Maqbara in the evening after sunset, it was all lighted up making it look surreal and beautiful. I haven’t seen Taj Mahal at night… I thought if this looks so beautiful, then Taj would be magnificent majestic with its overpowering presence under skilful lighting arrangements.
“The Bibi Ka Maqbara is a tomb located in the city of Aurangabad, Maharashtra. It was commissioned in 1660 by the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s son, Prince Azam Shah in the memory of his loving mother Dilras Banu Begum also known as Rabia-ul-Durrani. It bears a striking resemblance to the Taj Mahal, the mausoleum of Aurangzeb’s mother, Mumtaz Mahal and that is why it is also called the Taj of the Deccan. The mausoleum was intended to rival the Taj Mahal, but the decline in architecture and proportions of the structure (both due to the severe budgetary constraints imposed by Aurangzeb) had resulted in a different and particular monument with its own significant beauty.”
It was time for dinner by the time we finished exploring the monument… we were hungry too as the last meal we had was our breakfast. Initially, we thought of visiting Lok Seva Restaurant, a multi-cuisine restaurant serving both veg and non-veg dishes but Deepika and Sumita wanted to revisit Bhoj Thali Restaurant. We are living in democracy!!
This time we went to their second outlet, newer and well-appointed décor’ at Pushpa Nagari, Samarth Nagar. We knew what to expect and were ready to rejoice the dishes. I can’t say about my companions but I had a hearty dinner to my complete satisfaction even though it was vegetarian.
Later, coming back to our room, we played Rummy again and this time I won few hands. We slept late after a video chat with Ayush-Rajashree calling from Rome.
Freestyle Roaming
After breakfast, we checked out from the hotel but kept our luggage in the cloakroom of the hotel. We have kept the day for local sightseeing and shopping, though I doubted if we would get anything worthwhile to carry back to Delhi.
Our first destination was Soneri Mahal, located inside the campus of Dr. Bhim Rao Ambedkar University. The main building is constructed across the ridge of a hill and is surrounded by lush green trees, gardens, and fields. The palace was said to feature paintings made of real gold, thus giving it its name. The entrance is a solidly built structure with fortifications. The Hathikhana gate has ornate arches and is adorned with intricate carvings. From this gate, a central pathway leads to the main palace. On either side of the pathway are gardens and in the middle of this pathway is a large rectangular water reservoir.
Unfortunately, the palace was closed for renovation and I hope they will do justice to the gardens which were full of weeds and other unwanted foliage.
The next destination was Aurangabad Caves, quite similar to the Ajanta and Ellora caves but much more recent excavation. We had to climb more than 82 stairs to reach the caves and it killed me, I was panting like never before. When I looked at Deepika and Sumita, realized they were in no better condition. The caves are divided in three separate sections, we managed to see only one section and had no energy to climb again, moreover, the architecture and ornamentation of the caves are quite similar to Ajanta and Ellora and we had seen them all.
The Aurangabad Caves, are twelve rock-cut Buddhist shrines located on a hill running roughly east to west, close to the city. The Aurangabad Caves were dug out of comparatively soft basalt rock during the 6th and 7th century. The caves are divided into three separate groups, the “Western Group”, with Caves 1 to 5, the “Eastern Group”, with Caves 6 to 9, and a “Northern Cluster”, with the unfinished Caves 9 to 12. The carvings at the Aurangabad Caves are notable for including Hinayana style stupa, Mahayana art work and Vajrayana goddess. These caves are among those in India that show 1st millennium CE Buddhist artwork with goddesses such as Durga, and gods such as Ganesha besides numerous Buddhist deities of the Tantra tradition are also carved in these caves.
With that we completed our touristy exploration, Sumita now wanted to see the local markets, so we proceeded to Gul Mandi Market/ Nirala Bazaar. They are very similar to the markets of Lajpat Nagar, Ajmal Khan markets of Delhi, only scaled down substantially. Deepika bought a suit piece for gifting. Sumita couldn’t find anything interesting and after searching the net, decided to check Paithani Silk Store situated at the Connaught Shopping Market. While they went in, I stayed back in the car, my phone battery had drained out to only 30% and needed immediate recharging… the car charger was old and wasn’t charging the phone, so I went to a nearby shop and bought one. By the time the girls came, my phone showed 82% charged, so one can imagine how quickly they did their shopping!!
As per our tradition, we have one meal in a star rated hotel to complete our travel, so we went to Taj Vivanta for lunch and relaxed there till evening. Later, the cab dropped us to the hotel as the driver had other assignments promising that another cab would come to drop us at the airport. I knew that the owner, Suresh himself would be coming to collect the money and drop us at the airport. I found Suresh to be friendly and amiable person. On request from Deepika and Sumita took us to a shop specializing in Paithani Silk sarees from where Sumita bought a saree.
We reached the airport early and had a long waiting time, so took out the pack of cards and played Rummy till our boarding was announced. Sumita stayed overnight with us and went home in the morning. On a scale of 1 to 10, I would place this escapade at least 8.9 because of certain hiccups we faced which I avoided mentioning. We also skipped two historical places, Daulatabad Fort, because of steep climbing/ trekking of almost 4 km and Tomb of Aurangazeb, for obvious reasons.
The house stood amidst a large unkept garden, it was big, probably has five or six bedrooms besides sitting and lounging areas. Lt. Colonel (Retd) Narayan Reddy stopped when he saw the FOR-RENT sign hung over the gate. He tried to push open the gate but it was locked and made crackling noise. A middle-aged man came out from a house, opposite side of the road…
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Yes please, I am thinking of renting this house, where can I find the owner?”
“The owner doesn’t live here. I am the caretaker of that house. I am Vilas Deshmukh. And you?”
The man folded his hand in namaste and introduced himself.
“Narayan Rao, retired Army Officer.”
“I wouldn’t recommend you to rent this house, it has a very bad reputation. Who all is there in your family?”
“I and my handyman Sambhunath. Can I see the house from the inside and then decide?”
“Sure. I will get the keys.”
Vilas Deshmukh went back to his house to get the keys. Narayan Reddy walked around to take a better view of the house from the sides and he liked what he saw. It was a big double-story house with lawns all around the built-up area.
Vilas Deshmukh opened the lock of the gate and they entered. It, indeed is a big house spread over two floors, the ground floor has a big hall for sitting, a dining room, kitchen and pantry besides a storeroom at one corner just next to the staircase that’s going to the upper floors. The first floor comprises of four very spacious bedrooms around a central lounging area. Moreover, there was an open field at rear and a lake providing cool breeze throughout the day.
“I will take it, Mr. Deshmukh. I am giving you the cheque for two months right now.”
“There’s no hurry for that, Col. Reddy. I request you to reconsider your decision… of the last two occupants, none could stay beyond one night, the first one was found dead below the staircase and his servant in the rear lawns while the second one came out of the house screaming in dead of night. There are other houses I know that are up for renting, I can show you those.”
“I am not refuting your claim but I am taking this house, I will come in the evening with Sambhunath.”
In the evening Narayan Reddy along with his handyman Sambhunath came with their luggage and settled down in their new abode. Sambhunath liked the house, “Saheb, it’s too big for us?” he said innocently.
“Sambhu, we have seen hard days in our army days, now its time to enjoy life.” Narayan Reddy affectionately placed his hand on Sambhu’s head and ruffled his hair.
They ordered food from the nearby eatery and finished their dinner early. Narayan Reddy decided to take the first room near the staircase on the first floor and allotted the adjacent room to Sambhunath.
Narayan Reddy woke up in the middle of night as he thought he heard footsteps outside. No, he can hear the footsteps, very soft, climbing up the stairs, the sound stopped in front of his door. He has a gun but it is in the cupboard, taking it out might alarm the intruder. He picked up the 5-cell torch, it could be used as a weapon if need arises. The footsteps slowly started retreating and climbing down the stairs. Narayan Reddy, took out his revolver and opened the door, Sambhu too had heard the footsteps and came out of his room. Both went down to check from where the intruder had entered… all the doors and windows were locked and tightly shut, no one can come through them. It’s an old house, there might be some hidden ways at the back of the house, will check in the morning, Narayan Reddy thought aloud.
Nothing untoward happened rest of the night. In the morning, Narayan and Sambhu did a thorough search of the house but couldn’t find any secret outlet to enter or exit the house.
“I will go and get the grocery and vegetables from the market; we can’t survive on hotel food every day.” Narayan Reddy announced and left for the market.
As he was getting into the car, Mr. Deshmukh came out, “How was your first night in the new home?” he shouted from his balcony.
“All well. It is a big house, there were some unusual noises but nothing serious.”
Waving goodbye to Mr. Deshmukh, he drove away to the market.
When Narayan Reddy came back from the market after almost two hours he found Sambhu standing outside near the gate, visibly shaken, ashen faced.
“What happened? Why are you standing outside?”
“Come inside Saheb, I will tell you.” Sambhu’s voice wavered.
Sambhunath took out the grocery-vegetable bags from the car and went inside behind Narayan Reddy.
“Okay, tell me now”, once inside, Narayan Reddy commanded Sambhu.
“Saheb, I was cleaning and dusting the rooms and went to the storeroom to look for a broom, suddenly, I felt someone is standing behind me breathing heavily, it was ice cold. I turned around but there was nobody. Saheb, this house is spooky, makes me very nervous, let’s go back to our old house.”
“Sambhu, this is a big house and you were alone, you must be thinking about last night and then you may have felt the cool breeze floating in from the lake. Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”
Though Narayan Reddy assured Sambhunath, he, himself was a bit unsettled but being a Fauji, kept his cool and like a sniffer dog, searched the entire house for any clue. The house was as clean as the bright sunshine outside. The day passed peacefully.
Narayan Reddy decided to stay awake at night, had a frugal dinner in the evening followed it up with few cups of black coffee to help him stay awake. Sambhunath slept early in his room. Narayan Reddy made himself comfortable on the easy chair and waited… for something unusual to happen.
As the night grew, there was eerie silence except for the tick-tock sound coming from the wall clock. Despite the cups of coffee, Narayan Reddy ultimately dozed off only to wake up with a start when the church bell struck at midnight. His senses stiffened immediately, he could feel the presence of another person in the darkened room, someone is right behind him… the icy breathing very close to his neck. The Fauji spirit in him made him jump out of the chair and face the intruder, a blank space behind the easy chair was all that he could see. He heard the quick pace of footsteps running down the stairs and then came the sound of something heavy falling down followed by a heart wrenching cry of a dying man and then there was complete silence. He has seen death and the agony from very close in army but even he was stunned by the event.
“Saheb, open the door.” Sambhunath banged on the door.
Narayan Reddy came out to find Sambhu shaking in fear. He pulled him inside his room and gave him water to drink. They spent the rest of the night, awake and tensed but it passed peacefully.
In the morning, Narayan Reddy found Vilas Deshmukh having tea on the balcony of his house.
“Oh, come Col. Reddy, have some tea. You are really tough military man who could live in that house for two nights.” Deshmukh said jovially.
“Thank you, Deshmukh ji. Please tell me what exactly happened in that house.” He asked seriously.
“Okay, I am going to tell you what I know. Long ago, maybe 10-12 years back, a Bengali businessman named Pralay Dey, a businessman from somewhere in Bengal built this house. He was a bachelor and lived with his nephew. Life was good for him… his business was booming. He even got his nephew married and the new bride took control of the household. They were a happy family. Then suddenly, one morning, Pralay was found dead, probably slipped and hit head on the floor.” Deshmukh stopped take a sip of his tea.
“As per the last will and testament of the deceased, the property and money were received by the nephew who within a months’ time winded up the business, sold the house and left the city without any forwarding address.” Deshmukh stopped, sadness enveloped his eyes.
“The house was bought by Ghanshyam Das, a businessman from Delhi. He wanted to setup a Confectionery and Sweet Shop for his son, Angshuman. They performed puja and threw a grand house warming party. Angshuman and his mother went back to Delhi leaving Ghanshyam Das to finish setting up of the shop with his trusted servant Baburam. Next day morning, Ghanshyam Das was found dead near the staircase while the body of Baburam was discovered in the back lawns.”
“Anshuman tried to sell the house but by then the news of multiple death in that house has spread like forest fire, no one was interested in buying the house even at a discount. Anshuman, asked me to be the caretaker and look for a suitable buyer or tenant; the house has remained vacant for over five years till you came in.”
Narayan Reddy took leave of Deshmukh without telling him about the incidents of last two nights. He called up his junior colleague in the army, Major Ashish Kumar…
“Hello Ashish, how are you?”
“I am fine Sir. Its good to hear from you, hope you are in good health.”
“Yes, I am fine. Actually, I called you about your brother, you had once mentioned that he’s a para-psychologist and is interested in paranormal activities, I want to consult him.”
“Well Sir, my brother, Nirmal, incidentally lives very close to you, only an hour away. I am sending you his number, you can call him up. I hope, it is nothing serious.”
“No, no, not at all. Just need to satisfy my curiosity.” Narayan assured his friend.
Narayan Reddy called up Nirmal Kumar to fix an appointment and left to meet him. He narrated the events of the previous two nights to Nirmal Kumar. He asked few questions then said, “Let’s go to your home and see it firsthand.”
Nirmal Kumar, with his vast experience in paranormal activities, could sense that everything was not right in the house. He felt an undercurrent of tension in the air. He checked every room, the balconies and the lawns; the storeroom intrigued him the most.
Nirmal Kumar took a deep breath and said, “Look, Narayan, something is not okay here. I will come back in the evening with my assistant, Mrityunjay who is an excellent medium, will do a planchet to call the disturbed spirit to pacify it, hope we will succeed.” Narayan Reddy had no faith in occult sciences but kept quiet.
As the day turned into evening, Sambhunath started getting agitated, Narayan Reddy could feel that Sambhu will not be able cope with another night of turmoil. He thought of sending him to Deshmukh household for the night. Just then Nirmal Kumar along with Mrityunjay came in and declared, “Nobody needs to go anywhere, the four of us will sit for the planchet and call the disturbed spirit.”
As directed by Nirmal Kumar, they set up a round table with four chairs in Narayan’s bedroom. Nirmal Kumar asked them to sit down holding each other’s hand, thinking about the spirit that visited them. All eyes were on Mrityunjay who is going to act as the medium. Ten or fifteen agonising minutes passed, nothing happened; then suddenly with a great force all the doors and windows opened and gush of cold air filled the room. Mrityunjay’s body shook up violently but Nirmal and Narayan on his either side holding his hand, kept him glued to the chair.
Nirmal asked, “Who are you? Why are you roaming in this house?”
There was no response, so Nirmal repeated his question, a bit more firmly. Mrityunjay slowly spoke up but it was all garbled.
“Speak clearly. We are here to help you. What is your name?” Nirmal almost shouted this time.
Mrityunjay’s lips moved, “I am Pralay Dey. I was murdered in this house. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Tell us in details.” Nirmal Kumar shouted again.
“I used live here happily with my nephew, Nimai. The business was good and Nimai was learning the tricks of the trade quite well. He was the only family I had. I got him married to a girl named Usha. I had bequeathed all my assets to Nimai. I don’t know why or who poisoned his mind, he became greedy and wanted all the wealth immediately. One night he dressed up in the devil’s attire to scare me. I panicked and ran down the stairs but he came after me and pushed me inside the storeroom, I fell down, my head hitting the iron grill of the utility shelf… I lost consciousness. Nimai and Usha locked me up, being a heart patient, I felt claustrophobic and died of suffocation during the night in the storeroom. And since then, I am living there.”
“Why did you kill two innocent people?”
“I did not kill anyone; they got scared by my presence. The servant went to the roof and jumped to his death while his boss slipped from the stairs and died.”
“So, what is the solution? Why don’t you go away?”
“I can’t leave this house, especially that storeroom. Let me live here in peace, you keep that room closed, all the time… I can’t stay with you anymore; it will soon be morning.”
A gush of wind swept the room, the door and windows shut violently, Mrityunjay collapsed on the chair. Nirmal sprinkled water on Mrityunjay’s face to wake him up. In the morning, Narayan Reddy called the mason to build a wall in place of the door of the storeroom sealing it permanently and giving the spirit of Pralay Dey his own space in the house that he had built to enjoy living but couldn’t in his lifetime.
I finished my work, essentially gathering market information about a bunch of products that were launched in the region. It entailed not just visiting the dealership but the local markets as well. The reports gathered so far has been very encouraging. The north Bihar markets have always favoured our products courtesy the sales team lead by the Regional Manager. I took the same taxi from Muzaffarpur to Patna that had brought me there from Raxaul. Though, the Regional Manager, Mr. Lal had invited me to have dinner with him, I had declined preferring to have it at the Hotel Pintu near the station. I have heard stories about this eatery from my mother; in the early 50’s my parents were living in Patna and many a evening, my father used pack food from this eatery for the family.
I forced the driver to come along with me to the restaurant for dinner, our last meal, a breakfast of Puri-Sabji and Chai at the Muzaffarpur dealer’s shop and now we were starving. The driver, Ranjit Kumar was vegetarian and I preferred vegetarian food while on tour, easy to digest. We had two kinds of sabji and dal tadka with tandoori rotis, a very satisfying meal, tasty as well. Ranjit dropped me near the platform, I paid him a healthy tip and told him to collect the fare from the office in the morning as Mr. Lal had instructed when the cab was booked for me.
I headed for the first-class retiring room and found myself a nice sofa at the corner of the room. I settled down to read the book I was carrying, the train, Rajdhani Express to New Delhi wasn’t expected before midnight, enough time to finish the last 150 odd pages.
“Isn’t that Raman?”
I was startled by the booming voice and turned around to see Dipanjan Sir standing at the door of the retiring room with a small stroller, quite similar to mine. He was my boss in my previous organization, much older to me but a towering figure in the marketing field.
“Yes Sir. How are you? Frankly, I am surprised to see you here. Where have you been?” I replied.
Dipanjan Sinha came in and settled down on the single sofa chair and pulled out a cheroot from his jacket pocket, a luxury he indulged since the time I know him. He lit it up taking a long puff and blowing a series of smoky rings in the air.
“I came to attend the wedding of childhood friend’s son at the Govindpur village, 3,5-4 hours from Patna. It’s a small village nestled on the banks of Ganges.” He stopped to take another puff.
“How did the functions go? Did you enjoy the hospitality of your friend?” I poked him.
“Well, till yesterday morning, it was going fine, I was enjoying the pollution-free weather and fresh air of the village, the mobile network is practically non-existent, so no outside interference too but something happened last evening that changed everything.”
I smelled of a story more interesting than the fiction novel I was going to read… so poked him, “Please tell me your life altering story.”
“It’s not a story but fact” his voice boomed in the empty retiring room.
Dipanjan lit his cheroot again and took few quick puffs and began…
Shankar Singh Deo, my friend comes from an extremely wealthy zamindar family and was with me in St. Xavier school although. We became very good friends and were the opening batters of the school team. After school he went to Hindu College while I took English honours at St. Stephens and then did my masters at JNU. He became an IPS officer of Bihar Cadre. We kept touch with each other and met whenever possible. I was sceptical of visiting a village in Bihar but came because of his insistence.
Another few quick puffs…
The Govindpur Village is quite nice and even though small, on the banks of Ganges with large tracts of cultivated fields, very unlike the other villages of the state. Shankar’s palatial house situated right on the banks of the river is 3 stories high on a 10-acre plot with a swimming pool and a tennis court. A horse stable and a fleet of luxury cars, he’s ancestrally rich.
I was given a warm welcome by Shankar’s family; he introduced me to his large extended family. He took me aside and said, “Sorry bro, as per customs, I can’t serve non-veg to you and as the state is under prohibition, can’t serve alcohol.” I winked at him and said, “I have enough stock of the latter, you can join me in my room.”
In the evening, the entire place, the lawns, the palatial house were lighted up beautifully. I could not help but notice that the top floor of the building was in complete darkness, maybe it was electrical malfunction, I thought. It was the Sangeet and Cocktail evening and I wondered what they are going to serve as cocktails!! My concern was soon answered when I was served a glass of coke with handsome pouring of Rum, my favorite drink. The evening was a grand success, the youngsters kept their dancing tempo with popular Bollywood songs. The vegetarian food was finger licking delicious and the spread was large. Something funny happened when I was having food, a young man came and discreetly put some fish fries on my plate before vanishing amongst the guests.
Maybe because of the exhaustion and/or the Rum intake, I had a sound dreamless sleep at night. The breakfast was laid at the lawns, the warm winter sun made the atmosphere very pleasant. I dug into the Dhuska with Aloo-Chana sabji following it with warm cup of black coffee. Sitting in the lawn, I noticed that the top floor of the building was not adorned with any lights at all, it was not electrical fault as I had thought. I was intrigued and sought an answer from Shankar’s nephew sitting on my table. He evaded any direct answer and suggested that I check with his uncle.
In the afternoon, after lunch, I finally caught hold of Shankar and asked him why the top floor of the building was not lighted. His face became grave, “Let’s not talk about it. We do not have any good memories about that floor. Nobody goes to that floor, it’s kind of abandoned. In fact, I am thinking of demolishing the structure there and keep it as open roof, may create a garden.”
But why? I insisted.
“Well, if you really want to know, my grandfather was murdered in his own bedroom on that floor by his cousin. My father was studying in college in Patna and only family member present was my grandmother and aunt. My grandfather’s cousin announced that he died of heart failure took over the reigns of the zamindari. But it was short-lived as within a months’ time he fell down from the roof and died. Some says that he committed suicide while others say that my grandfather’s spirit pushed him to his death. Whatever it is, my father decided to leave that floor as vacant, once a week in the daylight, the floor is cleaned up to maintain the sanctity.”
Can we have a look at the place? I insisted again.
Shankar called for the keys to the floor and we walked up the stairs to the third floor. The floor was only half constructed, the rest is open roof. The constructed area has a large hall for meeting visitors and holding parties, two large bedrooms with attached bathrooms with dresser and a pantry large enough to be classified as kitchen. I liked the place and the daredevil bug inside me woke up smelling adventure. I told him that I wanted to spend the night in that room before leaving the place. Shankar tried to dissuade me but I was adamant. I moved my belongings to the room that was once occupied by Shankar’s grandfather and where he was allegedly murdered.
After the wedding ceremonies were over and most guests have departed, I went to Shankar and his wife to congratulate them take their leave. “Please think it over, Dipanjan. Although, I do not believe in paranormal but that floor has been lying abandoned for decades, there could be snakes or some poisonous insects coming out at night. Moreover, there’s no electrical connection in that floor, you will have to rely on your torch and the lanterns. I have arranged for few lanterns to light up the floor as much possible but still there are pockets of darkness.” Shankar tried a last bit effort to stop me but I ignored and climbed up to the third floor. The place seemed different from the afternoon visit; the lanterns placed at different places created a light n shadow play. I was tired after the day’s activity, it was past midnight, I took my medicines and slept.
I woke up by the sound of someone walking with a stick in the hall. I checked my watch which said it was 4:30 am. Who could it be? I wondered. I got out of the bed lighting the torch given by Shankar and went to check the hall. An old man in dressing gown was walking up and down the hall with the help of a stick. He stopped looking at me and apologised, “Sorry, I woke you up.”
“No, it’s okay but who are you and what are you doing here? I was told that no one lives on this floor.” I replied with askance.
“Actually, I live here only but Shankar doesn’t know about my existence.” He replied mystically.
“Okay, why don’t you come in the bedroom and relax? The bed is big enough for both of us.”
The old man followed me to the bedroom at sat at one corner of the bed. “I can’t sleep at night, why don’t you go back to sleep?” he said not looking at me.
I don’t know why but I said, “I think you have a story to tell. I am all ears, tell me.”
The old man turned towards me, in the light of the lantern, I could see it was drained of colors, almost chalk white, the eyes have gone into cavity, overall, the man was skeleton thin. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “Will you believe what I tell you?”
Why not?
“I am the grandfather of Shankar. This floor was my living quarter as well as office where I used to meet people during the day for business and have parties with friends in the evening. I had created a flourishing zamindari besides businesses from timber trade to mining.” He stopped to take breath and then continued.
“One day, my cousin came to me asking for shelter. He had become bankrupt in speculative business and sought refuge with me. I could not refuse and took him in. I engaged him in the administration of the zamindari alongside the manager of the estate. I was happy that he enjoyed the work and there was no rivalry between him and the manager. Almost a year had past and everything seemed settled when suddenly I fell ill and was bedridden. The doctor, a close friend, one day when there was nobody in the room, told me that my cousin along with the manager was conspiring to kill me and take over the zamindari and the businesses. I was aghast and decided to confront my cousin immediately. I got the opportunity when he came to see me in the evening. I told him that I know about the conspiracy he has been hatching and he should leave the estate immediately or else I will throw him out in the morning. Moreover, if he showed up again, he will be killed and no one will get to see his body. My cousin first denied the conspiracy then got aggressive physically assaulting me. I was weak due to my illness; he strangled me with his bare hands. I died.” He stopped.
I was shocked by his incredulous story which was writ on my face. The old man smiled and said, “I see, you don’t believe me. Let me show you how he killed me.”
Saying so, the old man started strangling himself, his tongue came out, the eyes started bulging out from the socket. I felt dizzy and tried to stop him but couldn’t. I lost my senses and collapsed on the bed. I don’t know how long I was senseless but when I opened my eyes, I saw Shankar and others are looking at me with concern.
Dipanjan Sinha stopped and lit up his cheroot once more and just then the loudspeaker announced the imminent arrival of the Rajdhani Express. I picked up my bag and rushed towards the platform stopping at the door for Dipanjan to join me.
“Hurry up Sir” I said and turned to look at him. The empty room looked back at me.
Epilogue
I was sure that I had a dream sitting on the sofa at the first-class retiring room of Patna Junction Station. In the days to follow, I got extremely busy with financial and business year ending followed by the annual sales and marketing conference.
Then one day, I met my brother at the club and he asked, “Do you know Dipanjan Sinha, your ex-boss, is no more. He died of cardiac arrest in a remote village of Bihar.”
We have been celebrating Diwali at our home in Delhi as far back as I remember; even when we relocated to Hyderabad, we always came back to Delhi around Durga Puja and stayed till Bhaiduj celebrating Diwali including having card parties at home. This year was different, we decided to celebrate Ayush & Rajashree’s first Diwali after marriage at their new home in Bengaluru.
Bengaluru Calling
We arrived at the airport well in time and were through with security check in a jiffy courtesy the Digiyatra app. We had two hours to kill before boarding the Air India flight to Bengaluru, Deepika suggested we check into the lounge, I must mention here that I never visit the lounge when travelling solo because (a) I am not sure the credit card that I hold will allow me and (b) my secret hobby of watching people and creating story around them… all in my mind.
Anyways, we checked into the Encalm Lounge and had our breakfast, read the newspaper before boarding the aircraft. The flight was on time and the aircraft, brand new or maybe newly refurbished, whatever it be, the experience was nice.
We landed in Bengaluru at 12:35 pm and immediately received the call from the driver of the hired cab stating that he was 10 minutes away from pick-up point. It was fine with us because we knew it would take at least 25-30 minutes for us to reach the designated spot picking our bags. Moreover, we were not in a hurry because Ayush & Rajashree were out on some work and would not reach home before 2/2:30 pm. They had left a key under the doormat just in case we reach before them which under the circumstances was highly possible.
We reached the pickup point much before the cab appeared and were soon on our way, the google map indicated 2:45 pm as ETA, keeping in perspective the Bengaluru traffic. In Bengaluru, courtesy Deepika’s dear friend Moushumi, we have a dedicated taxi service for airport pickup and drop, the person Nissar Pasha is quite dependable in this matter.
We arrived at Sobha Royal Pavillion, Hadosiddapura, off Sarjapur-Marathahalli Main Road at 2:40 pm. While at Delhi airport, Deepika realized that she had forgotten her ‘mouse’ at home and felt constrained without it, so, I had ordered for one at Amazon app which promised same day delivery. While we were near the complex, the app confirmed that it was delivered but did not elaborate to whom or where? We assumed, it must be at the security gate because the kids were not back. I checked with the security at the gate for any package from Amazon but none could be found, I was worried. The cab dropped us at the entrance of the block. Reaching the 18th floor, I spotted a package lying at the door of their apartment and to my relief it was the desired one from Amazon.
The apartment was spic-n-span, everything in place where it is meant to be, clearly a work of Rajashree. We loved it. More than half my suitcase had stuffs meant for the kids, so, I immediately unpacked and took out their stuff keeping them systematically on their bed, hoping to impress Rajashree, matching her organising skill. After some time, they came home, after the family hugging and reunion, they checked their presents and loved them, we have thoughtfully chosen the items.
In the evening, Deepika and I went to see Moushumi at Bellandur, close to where we were but it still took us 25 minutes, thanks to Bengaluru traffic. But that evening, Delhi+NCR was equally notorious, my bro-in-law called up while we were going and said that he was stuck in Noida for almost an hour due to heavy congestion.
Moushumi, was super busy with impending Kali Puja at her complex and the Diwali celebrations but still took out time to entertain us. We spent an hour with her, enjoying some amazing veg sandwiches and chicken kebabs with zero sugar, zero calorie soft drinks. She invited us to join her for the Kali Puja on the Diwali night.
We came home and had a simple dinner before calling it a day. Having got up very early in the morning, I was exhausted and needed to sleep.
The IKEA Experience
The Saturday was dedicated to IKEA; being in consumer marketing all my career, I have a particular liking for IKEA, the way they display their products and the ease of accessibility of the items for the customer is something desired of all retailers. We have purchased from their Hyderabad as well as Bengaluru outlet previously and can vouch for the quality. This time around, we did not have anything particular in mind, just thought of picking up something for gifting purposes.
Ayush and Rajashree went for the gym asking us to be ready by 10 am to leave immediately when they come back. I made egg sandwiches for Ayush and me and cheese sandwiches for Deepika and Rajashree. Breakfast is a must for me because of my medication. They came back while I was enjoying my coffee and freshened up quickly. I forced them to have their sandwiches before leaving.
Ayush-Rajashree’s home is in the south-eastern part of Bengaluru while IKEA is at the north-western part, just in the opposite end of the city, a 43 km drive taking 1:20 hours on a good day. The google map indicated 1:45 minutes through Hosa Road and then the NICE Ring Road, it showed the distance of 57 km but faster than the other route through Sarjapur-Marathahalli Main Road and then the NH44. Rajashree decided to drive, she wanted to practice driving an automatic and what better than this long drive. The initial part of the route had really narrow and broken roads making us wonder at the wisdom of Google Map, however, once we were on the ring road, Rajashree drove like a pro and did not cause us, in the rear seat, any reason to panic. It took us little over 2 hours to reach IKEA.
Typically. IKEA outlets are minimalist construction of three floors, ground being the parking area, first is the market place and cafeteria while the second floor is the experience centre. The layout is very similar both at Hyderabad as well as in Bengaluru, I don’t know how it is in Navi Mumbai. Eagerly waiting for them to open up in the north at Noida and Gurugram… I have reason to believe that Noida is going to open sometime next year and will be huge including a mall and a hotel as part of the project, strategically located between the metro stations of sector 50 and 51.
We went through the experience centre quickly as what we had in mind were small items which can be picked up from the market place. We went to the café for lunch, picking up their famed chicken balls and some fries, we avoided the very inviting desserts to cut down on sugar. We paired our food with unlimited fill of infused carbonated water.
I particularly wanted to pick up few ‘foldable shopping bags’ that are very useful gifts but sadly they were out-of-stock. We picked up few Knick knacks for home and few small items for gifting purposes. Ayush bought a set of glass tumblers that I liked but the logistics did not permit me to buy. By the time we were done, it was past 4 pm and time to rush back home before the evening rush of traffic on the weekend before Diwali. We were expected home in 2 hours as per Google Map but the Bengaluru traffic thought otherwise and we finally reached home well past 7:30 pm, taking more than 3 hours.
My cousin’s daughter lives in Bengaluru (Koramangala) and my cousin along with her husband has been there in Bengaluru since end-September scheduled to go back to Kolkata the following morning. I had planned a dinner with her at the Nagarjuna, Koramangala. We had their famous veg thali and ordered few non-veg items on the side. It felt really good meeting her, my brother-in-law and niece after a long time.
I forgot to mention that Rajashree and I had a very invigorating moments with Smokey and Milo, two lovely Golden Retrievers, when we reached back from IKEA. Both the kids are very fond of dogs and I am sure, going forward, they will have a furry baby of their own.
Pottery Day
It was a Sunday and Rajashree had marked it for a visit to the pottery studio and try our hands in it. I had promised them to cook mutton for them and accordingly meat was ordered from Licious. While they were at the gym, we ordered breakfast from Vedham, a Karnataka style South Indian eatery. Also, marinated the mutton with all the ingredients except oil for a one-pot mutton curry. While marinating, I realised, they don’t have a proper vessel to cook 1kg mutton, the pressure cooker is only a good enough for half kg. I wanted to order a bigger pressure cooker from Blinkit but based on Deepika’s advice ended up with a pressure cooker that already exists. I called up the customer service and requested for the exchange and they agreed to take it back and refund the money. I ordered a 5-litre pressure cooker which was delivered in less than 10 minutes, probably their warehouse was close-by.
Ayush and Rajashree are on a diet program that has restriction on daily oil/ ghee/ butter consumption, so I asked Ayush to measure and put the oil in the marination. He measured 2 tbsp of mustard oil and poured it in the container. I had earlier cooked chicken without (practically) oil in a microwave oven, so was confident that it would come out nice and good to eat, the challenge was the miniscule use of spices, for the kids are averse to spicy food. Without being modest, the mutton curry that day was one of my finest creations!!!
The Jumbo Pottery Studio, on the Sarjapur-Marathahalli Main Road is run by three friends, a spacious planned floor with tables for hand moulding as well as pottery wheels. It is where Rajashree is learning pottery on the weekends and have mastered the art quite well. She taught us to wedge the clay, the first step of pottery to take out air pockets. It took a little time before the three of us could do it to her satisfaction. We were asked to handcraft figures as per our choice and the teacher (as usual, I have forgotten her name) suggested that we check the ‘pinterest’ and choose an image for the purpose. Deepika decided to make a plate/tray, Rajashree decided on a set of cats, Ayush decided to make a dog and named it Ruffles, I decided to invoke the Almighty, trying my hand at creating a Ganesha idol. I ended up making two Ganesha idols and a small Shiva Lingam, I don’t know if they will survive the baking process… will get to know their fate in early December when the kids are due to come to Delhi.
The next course was using the wheel to create a bowl/ tumbler and I must confess that I failed miserably, making Rajashree very angry maybe because she had placed high hopes on my success. Deepika, with the help of the teacher, made two nice bowls and Rajashree created a nice tumbler. The father-son duo ended up with nothing to show. However, the whole experience was exhilarating and thoroughly enjoyable. Many thanks and blessings to Rajashree for insisting and taking us there to actually experience the process. The owner/ teacher of the pottery studio fosters 2 beautiful dogs, a labrador named Mala and a Shih Tzu. Mala is young, 7 months old and extremely energetic and playful.
In the evening, Deepika made aloo-gobi ki sabji using minimal oil and chapatis and we had quite dinner at home. After dinner, we sat and chatted for some time before calling it a day.
Pondicherry Calling
Deepika was very eager to visit the Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry being an ardent follower of Sri Aurobindo and Mother. Initially, we thought of hiring a cab from Bengaluru for a one-day visit but the cost of transportation plus the hotel stay for a day was coming very high, putting us in a dilemma. But Mother and Rishi Aurobindo had other ideas and we were offered a complimentary stay at the Hotel Promenade, courtesy the effort of Priya, our niece. And Ayush offered his VW Taigun for driving down to Pondicherry (Puducherry).
So, on Monday morning, Deepika and I left for Pondicherry around 7 am for a 5:30 hour, 310 km journey. I was not sure of the road condition but believed that we can do it max in 6/6.5 hours. The road condition within the city limits of Bengaluru were below par with potholes and for some strange reason, the road, every 300-400 metres were dotted with ‘tabletop’ speed breakers… when the road condition do not allow you to go beyond 20-30 kmph what’s the point of such speed breakers? Anyways, we were soon on the NH44 driving towards Chennai but knew somewhere ahead we will be guided to another route that’s faster through a forested area and then joining the NH77 straight to Pondicherry. Though, the 80 odd km stretch of the forested road was narrow, only two lanes, it was devoid of traffic, so we had a smooth ride driving in the vicinity of nearly 100 kmph. Ayush had changed his tyres to Micheline and filled then with nitrogen gas, the result was a noiseless drive all along.
Once we hit the NH77, we looked for an eatery and found a Saravana Bhawan franchise where we had our breakfast of Masala Dosa and filter coffee before continuing our journey.
The road had become wider, 4-lane, so I eased on the gas to accelerate, it was a scenic road and tempted me to stop and take few pictures but we had an urgency of reaching our destination…Deepika wanted to visit the Auroville, 16 km from away from Pondicherry in the state of Tamil Nadu. Though it was not possible to get a permit for a visit to Matri Mandir at such a short notice (usually, it takes anywhere between 7 to 15 days advance planning, sometimes even more), we could at least see it from the outside between 2 to 5 pm. Last time, some 10-12 years back when we visited, it was under renovation and inaccessible.
We checked into our rooms, quite spacious and clean but definitely needed upgradation. We were treated with a welcome drink, red in colour, of unknown ingredients but quite refreshing. We decided to hire a cab for the Auroville so that I can relax a bit, moreover, finding a parking space in the evening may become challenging. We had a quick lunch of sandwiches at The Blueline restaurant before leaving for Auroville. I have been specifically told not to comment on the hotel but can’t help pointing out that the staff needs a thorough hard grind training in servicing the customer. I had asked for a simple egg sandwich and was served a vegetable sandwich, when pointed out, it was taken back without an apology and then the actual sandwich appeared after 20-25 minutes when we were contemplating to leave without having it. The coffee which we asked to be served after our sandwiches came first!!
The drive to the Auroville was uneventful, the driver knew only Tamil and workable English but quite enthusiastic in keeping us engaged through constant titbits about the places and also pointing out some places of interest. He took us as far as he could drive inside so that we have minimal walk. We took our passes from the counter, the guy pointed out the way and specifically asked us not to follow the road marking as that is a long winding road with occasional vehicular traffic. The walk through the forested path was nice and energised us from our lethargy. The Matri Mandir viewing point is quite nicely done with natural photo-booths to take pictures of the Matri Mandir, landscape as well as selfies. The landscaping around the temple is still undergoing, an artificial lake surrounding the temple is being constructed as per the last wishes of Mother.
We spent some time at the viewing point, taking few pictures then walked back to the entrance to take the free bus ride to the reception and the parking where our driver, Muthuraj was waiting for us. On our way we stopped at the Auroville Bakery to pick up some cookies and cake. We instructed the driver to take us to the Aurobindo Ashram.
When I last visited the Ashram, the place was very quiet with few people around but now the entire road has been demarcated as vehicle free, only e-vehicles are allowed to drop off aged and physically challenged people. The cab dropped us at the entrance of the street in front of Auroshikha, a shop merchandising incense sticks, candles, handmade paper items and other stuff made by the inmates of the ashram. The proceed from the sale of such items are used for nurturing the ashram inmates. Deepika bought a bunch of incense sticks and candles for self as well as for gifting. On the opposite side of the road was another outlet for books written by Aurobindo and Mother as well as books on them by distinguished literally persons, it had an array of books in multiple languages besides other artifacts and talisman of the Ashram.
We left our purchases in the car and walked to the ashram. Earlier, they had a place inside the premises to keep the shoes of the visitors but now with the inflow of large number of devotees, the shoe rack has not only become large but has been kept outside near the building housing the ashramites. I am a free soul not bound by any ritualistic practice but still went with Deepika who kneeled down at the Samadhi of Rishi Aurobindo to pray. She also donated a sum of money to the trust and we spent some time near the Samadhi with others coming from across the globe and culture, it had a calming effect not describable in words.
We were dropped off near the hotel as the road leading to the hotel has become inaccessible due to the regulations. We had tea and the cookies bought from Auroville Bakery and relaxed for somewhile. Later, walked to the main market on the Jawaharlal Nehru Street, approx. 900 metres from the hotel. Our destination was the Hidesign shops (Flagship as well as Factory Outlet) specialising in leather products. The Hidesign is owned by Deepika’s cousin and we were expecting some discounts on our purchases, she had been referred to a person at the shop by her cousin but the lady had called it a day and gone home. We checked both the shops and shortlisted few items of interest and promised to come back first thing in the morning when they opened at 9 am.
We had our dinner at the rooftop restaurant named, Bay of Buddha, serving Pan-Asian cuisine. While we were waiting for our food, it started drizzling but we were saved by the canopy over our head, some diners choosing to enjoy their food under the open sky were not so lucky and had to relocate under the canopies or in some cases their food was covered up while they stood under cover.
In the morning, we got ready for the day and packed up our bags as well which had inflated with our purchases of the previous evening. On our way back from the market, we located a big outlet of Anand Adyar Bhawan (A2B) and decided to have our breakfast there, it is always advisable that one should go for the local delicacies rather than standard hotel offerings. But first we headed to the Hidesign store to pick up the items that we had kept reserved. I particularly wanted to buy a laptop sleeve for my HP 13-inch laptop; the one that I wanted was available in Delhi as well as online stores but the price was high without any discount, here I hoped to get it at a reasonable price, and I wasn’t disappointed by the discount given by the AGM of Hidesign. We, mostly bought items for gifting for Diwali and Bhaiduj. The breakfast at the A2B, was average but much cheaper than Delhi. The shop was extremely crowded with Diwali shoppers, we quickly finished our food and left for the hotel. On the way, Deepika went to the Ashram once more while I waited outside guarding our shopping bags. We also visited the house where her aunt used to live, it is being converted into a heritage hotel soon to open to public. It was nostalgic for her as she had fond memories of spending time with her. I too have memories about the house… I had visited her as the bearer of Deepika’s letter to her before our marriage, not knowing that she wanted her aunt’s approval of me and I passed the test with my charm.
We left for Bengaluru around noon after settling our account with hotel expecting to reach home latest by 6 pm keeping in mind the heavy traffic we would face approaching the city. We tanked up in Pondicherry itself as the petrol price was cheaper than Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, the two states we have to travel through. The route we took was different from the one we had taken to reach our hotel because of the traffic restrictions, it was wider and less crowded, we cruised at a decent speed of 80-90kmph and soon joined the NH77 where we looked for an outlet to have coffee and use the restroom. Anudhinam, Milk Sweets looked to be the place and we stopped there to have coffee. It was a sweet shop and confectionery on the highway, the signage outside the shop requested the patrons to leave their shoes and chappals outside. We had our filter coffee and a slice of chocolate cake, also picked up 250gm of milk sweets for Ayush and Rajashree.
The traffic increased significantly on the NH44, especially as we crossed Hosur on our way to Bengaluru. The Google Map, failed to specifically instruct me to take the service road and I kept driving on to the flyover missing the turn towards Sarjapur. I had shared the live location with Ayush and he got worried but I assured him that there was another turn after about 4 km that would guide us back to the Sarjapur-Marathahalli Main Road. In hindsight, it was a good mistake as the road, though narrow and serpentine, was in much better shape saving us the potholed road that we used while going. We reached Sobha Royal Pavillion exactly at 5:45 pm marking an end to a fulfilling getaway.
We were surprised to find a big bag in our room… Diwali gift from the kids, a set of two porcelain dinner plates and a teapot with infuser and two tumblers to enjoy the tea, a very personal and thoughtful gift from the Bacchas. I told Ayush that if he had indicated this earlier, I would have picked up the glass tumblers from IKEA that I liked so much. He just laughed and said that they decided on it while we were gone.
The Roxie Encounter
The previous evening at the dinner table, Rajashree asked if I would be interested in meeting Roxie, the Pitbull pup being fostered by their gym owner, dogs and I have special bonds irrespective of their lineage and I eagerly waited to meet her. Rajashree had gone to the gym early in the morning and confirmed the presence of Roxie at the gym, Ayush dropped me there on his way to the office.
It was decided to bring her home for couple of hours, it would test out if Rajashree is ready for adopting a pet and also if I am fit enough to manage and train a pup again. The owner told Rajashree that she had fed Roxie and her next meal would be in the evening again, in between we are not to feed her. I walked Roxie at the parking area where she pee-ed and we were on our way, Roxie feeling comfortable on my lap.
Once inside the apartment, I put her down and freed her from the leash. Roxie roamed the entire apartment going from room to room and was most interested to check the balcony but I did not let her go because she might have slipped through the gaps between the railings, down eighteen floors. Deepika, despite spending 14 wonderful years with Rolf is still skeptical about dogs but Roxie decided to be with her only sitting next to her.
I engaged with Roxie playing with her, she started running around (zoomies) in a game of “catch me if you can”, I could barely keep pace with her energy. She is at an age where she’s teething and wants to bite everything, just like what Rolf used to do at this age. Every time she bit me, I gently slapped her face and told her that the mouth is for eating not biting, after some time she understood, or so we thought. She started sniffing around walking around the rooms and went to the kid’s bedroom and could no longer hold her stomach. It was very foul-smelling potty which I had to clean up; doing so, I washed up some of my sins. We ordered a toy from Blinkit which Roxie liked immensely getting very possessive of it. Deepika made some buttermilk which Rajashree fed her. Roxie finished the makeshift bowl of butter milk in seconds and was askance for more.
It was a work day for Rajashree, so, once she was a bit free, we went to drop Roxie back at the gym. On the way she slept snoring loudly on my lap!!
Toit, the micro-brewery pub has opened a new outlet in the same complex as Ayush’s office, in the evening we took a cab there for dinner. Ayush came from office and we had a very intimate family outing enjoying the open-air seating and the beverages with snacks.
Celebrating Diwali
Even though, it was a holiday for everyone, the gym was open and the kids did not want to miss out, so, they went ahead while Deepika and I took a cab to Moushumi’s place for breakfast at the MTR outlet in Bellandur. I ordered my usual dishes, Idli-Vada combo followed by Rawa Masala Dosa and must say that those were some of the bests I had so far. We got Idli and Vada packed for the kids too.
On our way back, we picked up some diyas and coloured powder with the sieve for making Rangoli. In the evening, Rajashree made beautiful Rangolis showcasing her creative side while Ayush lit the diyas at the balcony and Puja Mandap.
Deepika made the Bhog for Laxmi Puja while I acted as her sous chef by cutting the vegetables. I also made ‘Shinni’, a preparation of wheat flour, milk, sugar and banana, usually made as a prasad during Satyanarayan Katha, on special request of Rajashree. It came out yummilusciously creamy and even Ayush, who otherwise has reservations about it, liked the Shinni.
After the Laxmi Puja, we had our dinner of the Bhog and later visited Moushumi’s home for the Ma Kali Puja at her residential complex. We spent some time at the puja and later at her home.
Penultimate Day
It was our last day with the kids, it was also a state holiday for celebrating Karnataka Day, both the kids were relaxed and took time to wake up. It was also homemade Dosa Breakfast Day, I made the ‘masala’ the aloo sabji while Deepika made the Dosa using a pack of MTR Multigrain Dosa that she had carried from Delhi. The multigrain dosa is a hot favourite of Ayush and he enjoyed them thoroughly.
It was also the day for making Prawn Malay Curry as promised, Ayush ordered the prawns from Licious before going to the gym. I prepared the ingredients while waiting the prawns and once it was delivered, washed them and marinated using turmeric and chilli powder with a little bit of salt.
While they were at the gym toning up their physic, I made the Prawn Malay Curry and was very happy with the result. By now, I have made it numerous times improving the texture and taste each time. Ayush had ordered extra quantity so that they can enjoy it the following day as well. Deepika made ‘Tomato Paneer’, a signature dish of hers for the kids to enjoy later. In the evening, I had a small peg of Single Malt with Ayush as company, though I have given up on alcohol. I don’t recall the name but it was a smooth drink and I enjoyed it after a long-long time. Before that, the kids went to wish Diwali greetings to their neighbour while Deepika and I went down to take a walk within the complex. Most of the buildings are ready but few are still at various stages of construction, hopefully should be ready by next year. Although, Ayush says that the no activity is happening at the Clubhouse, looking at it we felt, the clubhouse will be ready for use by the time the under-construction buildings are completed.
Post dinner, we chatted and watched television before retiring for the day. Ayush sent a reminder message to Nissar Pasha for airport drop in the morning.
Adieu Bengaluru
We were ready to leave for the airport by 7 am but there was no sign of the cab, I was getting restless and asked Ayush to check the status. The driver confirmed that he’s reaching in 5 minutes. However, even after 15 minutes or so, there was no sign of him, so Ayush called Nissar who to our horror had misread the message and sent the cab to the airport instead of Sobha Royal Pavillion. He tried arranging another cab but they all were at a distance and would have taken at least 30-40 minutes to reach which we could not afford. Deepika suggested, we book Uber but Ayush insisted on dropping us at the airport. To our pleasant surprise, the roads were devoid of traffic and we reached the airport in record time of only 1.5 hours. We bade them goodbyes and went inside, anxious about the weight of the luggage which were bit above combined allowance of 30kg. in addition, we had two large cabin bags as well. However, to our relief, the counter guy at Indigo check-in allowed our slightly over-weight baggage, maybe because we were the first ones to check-in.
We went to Amex lounge to wait for the boarding call and had our breakfast as well. Ayush and Rajashree took even less time going back home.
The flight was on time and we landed at T-1 of IGIA around 3:30 pm and was home by 5:00 pm after buying vegetables on the way for the Bhaiduj scheduled the next day. Later, in the evening, I made Chicken Black Pepper in White Sauce, my own recipe and signature dish for my siblings and their kids.
By the time I reached the station gate, I saw the train leaving the platform. It’s a small station of a village where only passenger trains stop and the frequency is very low. I looked at my watch, it showed a little over 5 pm and the next train to Kolkata (Calcutta) is now expected around 8 pm, I have to kill 3 hours in this deserted place, its not only painful but boring as well with no one to talk and nothing to see except the open field across the platform with sparse vegetation. I had come on official work at the Panchayat Office of the cluster of villages few kilometres away. I would have reached on time but the Panchayat Head insisted on having lunch at his home and then the only transport of the village, a cycle rickshaw had a tyre puncture forcing me to walk the distance to the station. I was feeling a bit exhausted from the brisk walk and frustrated at missing the train.
I entered the platform, it’s small with a room/ office of the Station Master and a ticket counter on one side and the other side a large shade for the luggage/ parcels, in the centre of the platform are two benches for the waiting passengers to rest. I sat down on one of the benches and stared across the platform through the open field. I don’t know when and how long I had been dozing but was awakened by the voice, “Where do you want to go?” I looked up to find a middle-aged person in black coat and white trousers looking at me inquisitively, must be the Station Master and may have got interested looking at my urban dressing style. “Kolkata” I replied. “Oh, you missed the train, now the next one is expected at 8 pm” he spoke with concern. “You seem to be a city dweller, where did you visit?” he continued with his query. “I came to visit the Panchayat Office for a meeting with the Panchayat Head, Akhil Babu and he insisted on having lunch with him which delayed me otherwise I would have caught the train” I replied. “He is my maternal cousin, please come to office, we can talk and relax till your train comes. We are village people, hardly ever leave the station, and let alone visiting a city like Kolkata, please tell me about the city” the Station Master said with enthusiasm.
I followed him to his office; it was filled with old furniture and files and had a smell of dust all around. He pushed a chair towards me to sit, there was a bench near the wall for the visitors to sit. The Station Master, Binod Babu, sat on his chair which had seen better days, now it was missing one arm, but Binod Babu seemed comfortable. He took out a packet of Bidi, a indigenous smoking stick of tobacco rolled in tendu or temburni leaf and tied with a string or adhesive, and offered me. I declined as I am a non-smoker. “You, city dwellers prefer cigarette over the local bidi” Binod Babu observed. “No, no, I don’t smoke at all” I protested.
Binod Babu lit his Bidi and took a long puff releasing several rings of smoke and said, “I first had my Bidi while in school and father caught me…what a thrashing he gave me!! But, the habit continues till date. Oh, I almost forgot there’s some urgent work I have to attend. You relax here, I will join you soon.” I sat there and looked around, I couldn’t see any electricity connection in the room and it was getting darker as the evening progressed. After some time, Binod Babu came back with another person and apologised “Sorry, I kept you waiting for long”. Before I could respond, the person accompanying him spoke up, “I heard, you live in Kolkata… I had once gone there, some 20 years ago… had no road or location sense… wanted to visit Kalighat but ended up at Kolaghat.”
“Stop your Kolkata story, Abani. You have told us this story at least twenty times” Binod Babu snapped at the newcomer, Abani Babu.
“Please continue” I tried to put Abani Babu at ease but he gave a quick glance towards Binod Babu and said “Forget about me, let us hear about you and Kolkata”.
As we were talking, a peon came in with a lantern and placed it on the table then asked, “Shall I get you some hot tea”?
“Yes, and also get some snacks as well” replied Binod Babu.
As the peon turned to go, another gentleman showed up at the door. “Please come in Narayan Babu” Binod Babu called enthusiastically. “Shall I get the snacks for 4 person then”? queried the peon.
“Isn’t that obvious” roared Binod Babu.
The person named Narayan Babu entered the room… he must be over sixty, slim and tall with darkish complexion. He looked at me and exclaimed, “I don’t think we have met before”. Before I could respond, Binod Babu introduced me and explained my predicament.
“So, you are from Kolkata, must be knowing the card game TwentyNine… there are four of us, perfect for the game. I have heard that people in Kolkata plays card game even while walking” Narayan Babu laughed heartily as others joined too.
Meanwhile, the peon came back with three cups of tea and four packets of Jhal Muri with Tele Bhaja (puffed rice preparation with pakoda) and placed the tray on the table. Narayan Babu picked up one packet of snacks while Binod Babu offered the tea to Abani Babu and me taking the third cup for himself. I felt little awkward and asked, “What about tea for Narayan Babu”?
Binod Babu and Abani Babu spoke together, “He won’t have tea. He’s scared of ghosts.”
“That’s strange… he won’t drink tea for fear of ghost”? I asked.
Abani Babu said, “That’s a funny story”.
“It’s not a story but true incident” Narayan Babu said with all seriousness.
“If you have no objections, please tell us about it… there’s still enough time before my train arrives”, I requested.
Abani Babu also joined in, “Don’t be angry Narayan, I was just joking… please tell us what happened”.
Narayan Babu relaxed a bit and relented…he looked out of the window in the darkness and began…
I am the witness to the incident that I am going to tell you, it happened many years ago during the British Raj/ Colonial Rule.
I have just started my job at the railways as an assistant in the engine room. It was a tough job of putting coal in the steam engine… sometimes we had to work continuously for 2-3 days at a stretch. We had to cook our own food, tea and sleep within the limited space inside the steam engine.
It was winter days when we were bringing a goods train full of tea leaves from Siliguri to Kolkata, the entire load was meant for Great Britain. There were four of us inside the engine room, the driver Maqbul Mian, a hefty six footer with matching body and strength, his co-driver, Ramratan Misra, almost reaching his retirement age and two coal feeder Poran Mondal and myself.
Narayan Babu helped himself with a mouthful of Jhal Muri and continued…
It was extremely cold night; we were shivering even with layers of warm clothes and the heat from the engine fire… I shivering uncontrollably, feeling sick, even sitting next to the engine furnace did not help. Maqbul saw that and said, “Why don’t you sleep for a while. I will manage the feeding. In fact, Ramratan Ji should also take a break”.
We found a corner to lie down and soon the vibration coupled with the noise of the engine helped us to get into a deep slumber. We woke up with a jolt as the train came to a stop. Maqbul confirmed that the signal is down indicating no passage. It was pitch dark outside and bone-chilling cold but nothing could be done, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere. In the pitch darkness the only lights came from the fireflies but the cold was making me sick again, probably a cup of tea can warm me up a bit. “Brother Poran, can you make some tea for us?” I requested.
Poran Mondal, probably just out of teenage, is jolly fellow and always ready to do any chores with a smile. He went to the pantry to boil the water and make tea. After a while declared that there’s no tea in the container, we have consumed the entire lot during the journey from Siliguri.
“We are carrying tea leaves in the wagons next to the engine” I spoke aloud.
“Right, you are” said Ramratan Ji “I will go and get some for us, I have seen one box is broken at the corner”.
As Ramratan started to climb down, Poran joined him. Maqbul was uncomfortable with the whole idea and said, “I am worried about the inspector traveling in the guard room. He is not a good man and very vindictive. If he catches them, the situation can become very ugly”.
“But we are not stealing for money, only taking a little for our own consumption and that too from the spillage” I tried to reason with Maqbul.
“I know that but I am concerned about the train inspector, he is a devil incarnate,,, he won’t empathize” Maqbul replied still worried.
“He must be in deep sleep in the guard room” I tried to assure Maqbul as well as myself. Even I became a little worried about Ramratan Ji and Poran.
We went to the door to check but couldn’t see anything or anyone in the pitch darkness, maybe they are inside one the wagons. The fire in engine had dimmed so I fed coal into the furnace and sat near it to soak in some warmth of the engine heat.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside and a loud voice, “Who is there? Identify yourself.” The voice no doubt belongs to the train inspector, the devil. He must be hiding somewhere nearby… and caught Ramratan and Poran as soon as they came out from the wagon.
Maqbul tried to intervene but the three of them came inside the engine room, the inspector holding Ramratan Ji by the collar. “This man of yours was stealing tea from the wagon” he barked at Maqbul.
“I did not steal, only took a little quantity from the spillage on the floor” protested Ramratan Ji.
“Yes, we did not steal, Ramratan Ji is telling the truth.” Poran echoed.
“Ramratan Ji is telling the truth. He had only gone to take a little portion of the tea for our own use… it is very cold here and we had run out of our stock. Please let him go, next week his daughter is getting married and it would create many problems if you arrest him for this minor issue” Maqbul tried to reason with the inspector.
“Lie, you were stealing the tea” the inspector was adamant. We were scared, Ramratan Ji was shivering in panic and had lost colour.
Maqbul looked straight in the eyes of the inspector and said, “If someone wants to steal, will he take only a handful or the full box? You are unnecessarily suspecting us.”
“Taking a handful of tea or a wagon full of tea, makes no difference, both are act of stealing only. I will file the report as soon as we reach the next station” the inspector shouted back at Maqbul.
“I won’t ever go anywhere near the wagon, please pardon me this time” Ramratan Ji cried out.
“You should have thought about it before stealing, now let’s go” saying this the inspector pushed Ramratan Ji towards the door.
If the inspector really files the complaint, Ramratan Ji will not only lose his job but even get jailed as well. I pleaded with the inspector, “Let it go Sir, please have mercy on him… next week his daughter is getting married, it will be scandalous if you arrest him now”.
The inspector looked at me with a devilish smile and said, “He did not think about it while stealing, now he will have to pay for his sin. Let’s go, the guard has given signal to move”.
Ramratan Ji cried again and grabbed the leg of the inspector, “You are my lord, please forgive me, I will never do such thing again”.
We knew the inspector was trying to take Ramratan Ji to his room for handing him over to the police at the next station. We felt helpless in front of the satanic inspector. Meanwhile, the guard blew the whistle indicating the line is clear to move forward. Ramratan Ji looked at Maqbul and pleaded, “Please help me Maqbul bhai”.
In that moment, Maqbul’s eyes suddenly turned bright and he swiftly moved between the inspector and Ramratan Ji and spoke in a grave voice, “Let him go inspector, don’t ruin his life for a handful of tea leaves”.
The inspector was taken aback by the demeanor of Maqbul and took a step back letting go of Ramratan Ji. “If I let go of him it will affect my career, I had caught two thieves earlier and this case will ensure my promotion” the inspector blurted out.
“Scoundrel, just for the promotion, you are trying to ruin the life of an innocent person?” Maqbul shouted at the inspector.
Maqbul was shivering from excitement and rage but the inspector had regained his composer and said menacingly, “Move out from my way, I will have you all arrested for theft and obstructing a police officer”.
Maqbul’s face distorted with anger and he looked very different person at that time. I have heard that his ancestors were dreaded dacoits once upon a time but he had chosen a civilized way of life. But now, the old blood somehow had entered his bloodstream, he moved forward catching the inspector by his arms and lifted him up, “You want your promotion, I will give you the promotion”, he hissed into the face of the inspector.
Maqbul no more a human, he had turned into a demon now, we were scared and completely stunned into inaction. Maqbul dragged the inspector towards the furnace, the inspector was scared too and pleaded with Maqbul, “Okay, I won’t arrest him, let me go…I don’t want any promotion”.
“What are you doing, Maqbul?” cried Ramratan Ji.
“I am promoting the inspector to the next level” Maqbul hissed.
Before any of us could react, Maqbul lifted up the inspector like a toy and threw him in the furnace. All we heard was the deafening cry of the inspector followed by the urgent whistle of the guard asking us to start the engine. Maqbul simply fed more coal in the furnace to energize and pulled the lever to begin the journey as if nothing has happened. The swiftness of the event and the nonchalant demeanor of Maqbul had turned us into stone sculpture.
The rest of the journey is completely blurred from my memory… I don’t remember how I reached home the following day but by evening I had very high fever which lasted for a week. When I went to work after ten days, there was complete chaos at the station. No one is willing to take charge of the engine no. 913. I shuddered, this is the same engine we operated that fateful night. The driver named Gomes was standing nearby and I went to him to find about the issue, “What’s the problem, Gomes?”
He looked at me strangely and said, “There’s a ghost in that engine”.
“What are you saying? Have you seen it yourself?”
“The night before yesterday I drove it and two days before that Gopal was driving it back and he told me. I thought he consumes Ganja so may have hallucinated”.
“There must have been other people in the engine no. 913, did they see or hear anything?”
“Yes, they too heard.”
“What did you hear when you were driving it?”
Gomes looked at me blankly, evidently there was fear in his eyes. He pulled me, “Let’s go and sit there. I will tell you, my experience.”
We sat down on a bench next to the parcel room, Gomes lit up a cigarette, took a few puffs to calm his nerve and said, “I don’t believe in the existence of ghosts. I did not believe what Gopal told me either. That night we picked up the load and left Siliguri on time. As the evening progressed, the darkness enveloped, the atmosphere inside the engine room became heavy, I could find no reason for it but we all felt some discomfort. It was not just the chill but something more as if something is trying to strangle us, we were feeling breathless. Suddenly, the engine coughed and gave jerks, I thought there must be something on the track, so I applied the break but the engine did not stop, it kept going at the same speed”.
“What happened next?”
“As the engine accelerated, we could feel putrid smell of burning flesh coming from the furnace. It was suffocating, I started sweating even in that chilly night, I thought I will faint. The fire in the furnace was low so I fed coal in it, the furnace lit up instantly and there was a deafening cry of someone coming from the furnace. I couldn’t make out what the crying voice was saying but Ratul, my assistant heard someone saying ‘leave me please, I don’t want any promotion’. Fear of unknown was gripping me, making me turn into a statue unable to move an inch. Then suddenly something pushed me with a strong force and I fell to the floor. Ratul, my assistant too was lying next to me, his face drained of blood. The engine continued to run as if nothing has happened”.
Gomes took few more puffs and continued, “Somehow, we managed to bring the train here and narrated our experience but no one believed us. Yesterday, a new team took out the engine no.913, this morning they came back with two of their member in a critical health. Now, no one is ready to drive the engine no.913.”
“My mouth had become dry, unable to offer any words to Gomes, I left him there and came back home. Next day I resigned from my job at the railways and also gave up on tea.” Narain Babu concluded with a sigh.
There was a complete silence in the room for some time, then Binod Babu looked at his watch and said to me, “Let’s go, it’s time for your train to Kolkata”.
There was a time when I was into field sales operation and had to do extensive travelling across the north and eastern part of the country. When doing upcountry areas, I used to utilise the nights for travel as the airconditioned train berths were more comfortable than the local hotel rooms. This is the story narrated by a total stranger I met at the station while waiting for my train.
I was at the Sambalpur station waiting for my overnight train to Kolkata (then Calcutta), the sun has set in the west and it was getting darker around with few light bulbs flickering on the platform. Most people have left the station for their respective homes. The Station Master informed that there has been a damage on the train tracks which is getting repaired and the down train for Kolkata is delayed at least for an hour. It is difficult to pass time in such gloomy place waiting indefinitely for the train. I bought a cup of tea and a packet of biscuit, sat on a bench, took out the day’s newspaper and tried to read the unread news items.
“Are you Bengali?”
I was startled by the voice and looked up. A very slim darkish old man in dhoti-kurta with a couple of days stubble was looking expectantly at me. Before I could respond, he sat down next to me. I asked, “How did you figure out that I am a Bengali?”
He smiled and pointed to my newspaper and said, “In these parts of the country, newspaper is a rarity and who other than a Bengali would be reading a Bengali newspaper in Odisha?”
The demeanour of the old man seemed amiable and welcome in this otherwise deserted gloomy place. “So, where are you going?” I asked.
“I am going to Bolangir. And you?” he replied.
“I am headed to Kolkata. Came here for official work, in fact this is my first visit to this place. Do you live around this place?” I replied with a counter question hoping to extend the conversation.
The gentleman made himself comfortable on the bench lighting a cigarette he said, “You can say so… it has been almost 50 years I have living in these areas. I came here taking up a job at the wood mill at Sambalpur. I was the manager for sourcing the wooden logs from the jungles.”
I sensed a possibility of exciting stories of the jungle and probed further, “Working in the forest, you must be having many fascinating experiences, tell me some.”
He smiled at me and looked up at the sky probably trying to recall some incidents from the vast repertoire of experience. After a while, he lighted another cigarette taking a long puff and releasing a series of smoke rings, he said, “My life experience is like the epic Mahabharata, won’t finish before your train comes, but I will tell you one particular incident that happened many years ago when I was probably your age.”
It has become quite dark by now, one can hear the cacophony of birds chirping, probably sharing their day’s experience with each other, a goods train with coal loaded is waiting for the go ahead to chug along on its way to some industrial hub. The gentleman began his story…
The incident happened at the Dak Bungalow of Phulbani about 3-3.5 hours from here (Sambalpur). The river Mahanadi flows through Sambalpur which is named after the Goddess Shyamlai, in the middle of the city is the Raja Hills on the summit of which is the famous Mahadev Temple that attracts pilgrims from across the state. Our factory and warehouse was very close to the railway station, the logs were cut into different shapes as per requirement and delivered through the railways. I was the overall in-charge of the operation, a general manager… he-he-he…
One day, the owner of the mill, Mr. Ghosh called me urgently to his home in Chakradharpur. He has been bedridden with acute rheumatism and unable to move around. I took the early morning train and reached his palatial bungalow around noon. After freshening up from the tedious journey we sat down for lunch. Mr. Ghosh without any preamble said, “You have to immediately go to Bolangir and meet the Raja Sahib. He is leasing out a jungle in Bolangir and before anyone else approach him, you give him the earnest money and book it for our company. I will personally meet him and deliver the rest of the money once I recover from this pain.”
Next day, I left Chakradharpur with a briefcase full of cash for Sambalpur hoping to catch the train to Bolangir in the afternoon. I still had time in hand for the train to Bolangir so went home to take bath and change into a fresh clothing. The train to Bolangir was on time and I sat down in the first-class compartment which was very scarcely occupied. The train left the station soon and as it picked up the speed, cruising through the newly constructed bridge on the river Mahanadi, I realised that in the hurry I have left my tiffin box on the bed. Now, I will have to eat whatever trash the railway station eateries have to offer, I felt irritated. The picturesque surroundings failed to uplift my mood and I became very hungry as well. At the next station, the train has a stoppage time of 10 minutes, I decided to get down and look for something to eat. The porter informed that there is a food outlet just outside the station.
There were few shanty shops just outside the station and one of them run by a middle-aged lady selling puffed rice with pakora, most of her customers were of labour class… looking at my attire, she gave me preference over others. I picked up a bagful of puffed rice with pakoras and rushed to my train. I was late, the train left me stranded on the platform. It was a terrifying moment for me, being stranded at an unknown place with a briefcase full of money. I went to the office of the station master hoping to find a way out.
Huffing and puffing I blurted out, “You need to help me, Sir. I just missed my train and don’t know this place at all.”
“Where are you going?” the station master looked at me and asked.
“Bolangir” I replied.
“Shivram Ji, you are also going to Bolangir, aren’t you?” the station master asked the middle-aged stocky person sitting across him.
“Yes.” The person named Shivram replied and then looking at me said, “You can come along with me, but we must hurry otherwise it will get dark on the way.”
The station-master smiled and said, “You are lucky because Shivram Ji happened to be here on work otherwise there are no more trains before tomorrow morning.”
I thanked Shivram Ji for accommodating me and followed him to the jeep parked outside the station. The road was devoid of traffic and Shivram Ji being a seasoned driver cruised along at a decent speed. The constant buzzing noise of the engine and the cool air made me sleepy. I tried to keep awake enjoying the serene surroundings of forested landscape but soon started dozing. I woke up with a start as the vehicle swerved on its side and came to a halt. Shivram Ji got down and cursed, “Tyre puncture” he announced. Then took out the spare tyre and went on to work. It took almost half hour to change the tyre. I looked at the sun setting at the distance and wondered how long it would take to reach Bolangir.
By the time we started our journey again, the sun has set for the day, it was getting darker by the minute. The was nothing to see any more except the darkness and the road ahead in the feint light of the jeep headlights. We had probably driven about 20 km when there was a loud noise from the back of the jeep, Shivram Ji braked hard and the jeep came to a stop, he got down to check with a torch in hand. It was another tyre puncture or rather burst. Usually, there is only one spare tyre in a vehicle and we had already used that… we are now stuck in the middle of nowhere. I started shivering in fear, all around was darkness, the wilderness created an eerie atmosphere.
Shivram Ji focussed his torch towards me and said, “Come with me, there’s Dak Bungalow nearby, where you can spend the night. It is safe and I know the caretaker of the place.”
“What about the vehicle?” I asked feebly.
“Oh, it’s safe, no one will take it.” Shivram Ji assured me.
Even if he was confident of his vehicle not getting stolen, I was concerned about the huge amount of money in my briefcase. I picked up my overnight bag and the briefcase and followed Shivram Ji. It was difficult to keep pace with him on the rough patch of road and with the luggage in both hands but the fear of unknown made me walk briskly. After walking for about half hour, we saw a white single-story house with lawns around the house. Shivram Ji opened the gate and walked in, I followed suit. Reaching the porch, he called out, “Raghunath, Raghunath.” A little while later, a man came out from the rear side of the building holding a lantern.
“Namaste Babuji, how are you?” Raghunath addressed Shivram Ji with respect.
“Good, my car broke down on the road. My friend will stay overnight here, hope you can arrange a room for him.” Shivram Ji told him.
“Yes Sir, the Dak Bungalow is completely vacant, I will arrange a room for Sahib immediately.” Raghunath responded with sincerity.
Shivram Ji put his hand on my shoulder with assurance and said, “You go and relax, I know Raghunath for a long time, he will take good care of you.”
“What about you? Are you not staying here?” I asked, a little worried.
“I have to return to Sambalpur to new tyres, I will hitch hike a truck and should be back in the morning. You don’t worry, I will take you to Bolangir tomorrow.” He assured me.
“Come Sahib, I will show you the room. What will you like to eat for dinner?” Raghunath asked.
“Whatever, you are having, I will have that only.” I assured him.
The light from the lantern made the surrounding even more eerie and the darkness seemed darker. I could make out that there are a series of rooms along the balcony and we stopped in front of one of them. Raghunath opened the door and ushered me in keeping the lantern on a table. The room was big with a double bed in the centre of the room and a cupboard and study table with a chair at the other end. There was a reclining chair on the other side near the window.
I put my bag and the briefcase inside the cupboard. Raghunath went out in the darkness to prepare for the dinner. A little while later I heard some noise outside, from the window I saw Raghunath taking out water from the well in the lawn. And soon he came into the room and said, “I have brought water for your bath, you freshen up while I arrange for your dinner.”
The water was cold and relaxing, the day’s exhaustion and a simple but tasty food soon made me sleepy, I retired for the night. I don’t know, how long I was sleeping but I suddenly woke up by a sound of Payal coming from the distance. I was a bit groggy waking up suddenly and tried to focus and figure out where I am, slowly remembered that I am at a Dak Bungalow. The noise was getting closer now and I can now make out a female voice seeking help. Soon, there was a knock on my door followed by an appeal, “Please open the door. Those people, chasing, will kill me.” Initially, I thought it was ruse to rob me and decided not to open, come what may. But the voice has started crying now and also there was the sound of mob rushing in, I opened the door. A young girl barged in and closed the door immediately.
“Hey, who are you? Who is following you and why?” I asked and increased the flame of the lantern.
The girl was in her early twenties, decked in extensive gold jewellery as if a Princess is coming from a wedding ceremony. She put her finger on the mouth and whispered, “Don’t speak, they will hear you and come here. I will spend the night here and go away in the morning.”
“Okay, you sleep on the bed, I will rest on this recliner.” I replied.
I was still sleepy and soon slumbered in deep sleep on the recliner. The constant knocking and calling by Raghunath and Shivram Ji woke me up. The sun was shining bright outside. I got up and looked at the bed, it was empty, the girl was gone. But how, the door is still locked from inside!! I checked the cupboard, my bag and briefcase is still there… I haven’t been robbed.
I opened the door for Shivram Ji, it was clear from his face that he had little sleep at the night. “Come, let’s go, the jeep is all set to roll.” He spoke.
As I was clearing out, I noticed a ring lying on the bed, a red ruby ring… I am certain it was not there when I checked in the room. Did she leave it for me as gratitude for sheltering her last night? I looked at Raghunath and asked, “Did someone else came last night, a young girl?”
“Except you, no one else came last night. I sleep on the veranda Sahib, if anyone had come, I would know” Raghunath replied with sincerity.
“It’s new place for you, probably you had a dream”, chuckled Shivram Ji.
Who was the girl? Why did she leave the ring? How did she go out of the room? The questions kept haunting me throughout the journey.
We reached Bolangir in the morning where I met the Raja Sahib and handed over the money to him. After lunch, sitting in the lounge I noticed life sized portraits hung on the walls all around. I got up to see them up close… a particularly striking image of a young girl caught my attention. “Who is she?” I asked the Estate Manager who had been asked to look after my wellbeing.
“She is youngest daughter of Raja Saheb, the Pricess Padma. She had gone to a wedding ceremony, while returning, her car broke down on the road near the Dak Bungalow. Some goons saw her and tried to molest her. She ran towards the Dak Bungalow and knocked on the doors for help but no one opened the door, to save her honour she jumped into the well and committed suicide.
Everything became clear to me now, the girl seeking refuge last night was none other than the Princess Padma and the ring… I searched the ring in bag and took it out. “Do you know, who this belongs to?” I asked.
One look at the ring and he shouted, “Where did you get it? This ring belongs to Princess Padma. Look at the back, her name is engraved on it.” He was shivering in excitement and repeated, “Where did you get this ring?”
“Oh, that’s an amazing story…” I replied before leaving for the station.
My dear friend, Tapas Dey aka Topshe is an ardent traveler and has a fascination towards the hills which is understandable as living in Delhi, the closest getaways are always the hills of Himachal or Uttarakhand. Indro and I have been coaxing him to write his experience about the travels and the destination but he was evading us, that is till now. Somehow, he finally gathered the courage to write about his recent trip to Jibhi, in Himachal Pradesh. Since, he doesn’t as yet have a blogsite, I am only facilitating him to reach out to a larger audience. Please read on Topshe’s adventure.
In the month of July, my daughter, Tulika aka Rakhi and daughter-in-law ILA aka Ruby at Dinner time directly placed a matter to be discussed there and then, “Baba, are we going somewhere this August 15th?” For the last consecutive two years we went out for some family excursion trip combining Saturday-Sunday and holiday for 15th August (Independence Day).
In the year 2022, we toured to Kaushani-Binsar 3-day trip for Uttarakhand. That time the group was a little bigger one as my brother-in-law along with family and my old friend Amal da and his wife, Nupur joined us. In all, we were 11 persons travelling in two cars. Then in the year 2023, I had to skip the tour due to sudden work in office, but 4 of my family went to Udaipur-Chittorgarh. This time, I have to choose the destination and plan for it, no escape for me!!!
This year 15th Aug was on Thursday, so I asked my family members whether they could manage for 2 days leave on Friday and Saturday, that way we will have 4 days holidays together. Everybody assured me that they will try to manage it, even if, they have to make some other adjustments. Now, the most ticklish thing is selection of destination. My first option was Chopta, which is in Chamoli District of Uttarakhand. I even searched the hotel/Tent house for our stay, zeroed on one “Meadows Camp Resort” and talked to the person there for booking. However, due to incessant rain in the last week of July, there were news of landslides at Chamoli district and its adjoining areas. I have a friend staying near there, after retirement, I called him up to enquire about the conditions of road etc. He summarily rejected my plan citing the unpredictable nature of the region.
Then I switched over my option to “Jibhi”, which is 60 km away from Mandi, in Banjhar valley, falls in Kullu District of Himachal Pradesh. Jibhi is a small village, surrounded by lush greenery, and is a tranquil, unexplored hamlet in the Banjar Valley of Himachal Pradesh. It is ideal for travellers seeking solace in the lap of nature, this quaint town provides breath-taking views perfect for outdoor activities like fishing, hiking, bird watching and more. After juggling quite a number of options, in the first week of August we zeroed down to one homestay “Majestic View WanderHouse” for 3 nights (15th, 16th and 17th August) and booked it, giving some advance payment. However, within next 2-3 days, news of cloud burst in the valleys of Kullu and adjoining areas came and Himachal Government started issuing advisories to avoid journey to those places. Now our situation has become like ‘Trishanku’, as we all have managed our leave sanctioned but our venue is still doubtful and only a week more left to start our journey. So, I proposed Plan-C, for a trip to Jaisalmer to my son and daughter. My son, Soubhik quickly surfed in Google and showed me two very good hotels for our stay, first night in Jodhpur and next two nights at Jaisalmer. Meanwhile my daughter enquired from the owner of Jibhi homestay about the condition of roads etc and adjoining areas. The owner assured us that their place is still safe and not to worry about the roads. So finally, we decided to stick to our plan to go to Jibhi as timing to reach that place was consistently showing the same in Google Map for the last 2 weeks.
DAY-1 (Thursday, 15th August)
This time my usual co-passengers Manojit and Amalda had declined the offer to accompany us due to their preoccupation. So, on 15th Aug sharp at 6.00 AM we started our journey in our Nexon SUV to Jibhi, Himachal Pradesh which is about 483 KM from our home and as per Google it showed that we will reach there at around 4:10 pm. Soubhik is on the wheel. By 8:20 AM covering about 140 KM, we reached our first designated halt at Zhilmil Dhaba to have our favorite Aloo-parantha breakfast and also to stretch our legs along with the use of washroom.
The break took 40 odd minutes to finish the breakfast and freshen up. After paying tips to the parking assistant, we all occupied our seat for continuing the journey. But here my son, who was still on the driver seat shockingly disclosed that the car engine is not starting… no response… it is dead!!! After his valiant unsuccessful efforts, I moved out of the car and checked the display screen on the dashboard where I found no light/indication of various essential features on the display screen. A doubt raised in my mind at this juncture that just a day before we started this tour, Soubhik has fixed a new rear brake display on the rear bonnet. I thus felt it might be due to some electrical error. I then asked the parking vendor whether he knows any car mechanics nearby who could rectify the fault. The fellow readily agreed to help me and called up someone on his mobile to come up. I asked the fellow, from where this fellow is coming. The guy replied, that it is about 20 KM away. I calculated in my mind that the guy may atleast take something about 30-40 minutes, if it is on the main Highway. After an hour a Sardar ji mechanic appeared on a bike with a very small bag carrying some spanners and a small car battery. Sardar ji, as a thorough professional checked the position of the car ignition key in the dashboard and opened the Bonnet of the car. Straightaway, he checked the power of the battery with a handheld electric current monitor he had brought with him. And not taking much time to check other parts, he declared that the Battery of the car is gone, completely dead and have to be changed outright. On being asked the cost, he enquired it from a dealer on phone and said that it may cost around Rs.7000/. Finding no other options, we agreed for whatever he has suggested. I gave him some advance cash and the old battery. As the Tata Nexon car is only 3 years old as such we never have imagined that this would happen; recently, I had replaced my other car battery after 5 years. Sardar ji came back after about 45 minutes with a new box containing battery for the car and informed that due to State holiday, he had to wait for the shop to be open. Within next ten minutes he fixed the battery and our car showed signs of life and that it is ready for the drive with roaring sound of the engine. It gave us immense happiness that we can again resume our journey although we lost some precious 2 hours that ultimately delayed our time to reach the final destination. We did not bargain much with the Sardar ji mechanic paying him the balance for the battery and his own professional charges and gave another Rs.50/- additional tip to the parking vendor who arranged this mechanic on a National Holiday.
It brought to my mind an incident that we faced in our last Tour of Kinnaur in Sept.2023 when a technical glitch in the car of my friend Aranjit, where his car heated up abnormally indicating NO COOLANT. After 4 liters of water and appropriate coolant, the problem was fixed by a helpful mechanic; that time we lost 2 precious hours as we were practically crawling for 40-50 KM searching for “red coolant” and a car mechanic.
During his last service of the car few months back Soubhik had asked the service engineer the reason for low level of sound of the horn, the mechanic after inspection told him that the battery is wearing out fast. But suggested to continue for few more months. It’s our bad luck that it happened on this tour on the Highway.
Then we felt, it’s also our luck that it happened at a place where we got an instant help like a gift of God who arranged a mechanic, who came on a national holiday at a time, the shops were yet to open. We thanked the almighty, that the problem we faced was sorted out there itself.
We resumed our journey, Soubhik desired to drive till the mountainous terrain comes. I also didn’t object to this, giving him more opportunity to have practice for long drive. In the Google Map which Soubhik scrupulously follows showed a shorter route to our destination via Rajpura (in Punjab) which goes straight to Amritsar after Ambala city diverting left from Ambala-Chandigarh Highway. After some distance on the Highway near Rajpura, the map shows to take right turn towards Kharar/Kiratpur Sahib road. However, there was a blockade on road ahead with a policeman directing us to take left U-turn to the road we came from. After about a KM going back, the direction in the Map still insisted to take the same route, means Google Map falls into a loop. At this juncture I suggested my son to return to Ambala Highway and take the other left turn from Lalru, a small sub-city on the Highway. Accordingly, after Lalru on the NH, Soubhik took left turn to Kharar/Mohali road. With all this mishap following the Google Map, it was 1.30 pm and we had covered only another 140 KM, so we decided to halt for lunch. After brief scanning of the area at Ajit Singh Nagar on Kharar-Kurali Road, a board of Sagar Ratna came with some other options of Starbucks and KFC etc on the same Food Court. Everybody expressed to have lunch from Sagar Ratna to taste ethnic South-Indian food. There we got a good designated parking lot. At Sagar Ratna, we decided to have different items for all to taste different type of food available there. Soubhik ordered for Thali, Ruby opted for Dahi-Vada, while Rakhi decided to have Rawa Masala Dosa & Dahi Vada Combo Meal, Sudipta ordered for Lemon Rice and I took Paneer Butter Masala Dosa with Fresh Lime Soda for all. The taste of food was nice with good ambience.
Taking a break of 40 odd minutes, we again resumed our journey. After taking right turn on the ridge at Kiratpur Sahib we topped up our tank form a Jio Petrol Pump so that we won’t have to think about refilling till we return back to Mandi on our return journey. I am on the wheel now. Roads are quite smooth here. So to control the speed of the vehicle, authorities here at Bilaspur put around 15 electronic speed check point on the road to monitor the speed limit of the vehicle. After Sundernagar-Bilaspur, we got 4 tunnels rapidly, till we reached Aut Tunnel crossing Mandi in between. Due to these 4 tunnels, our journey was quite smooth and faster, though it had started getting dark. Now we started facing the potholes on the narrow Aut-Banjar-Ani-Sainj road. Our speed drastically came down to 15-20 kmph. Roads were mostly empty except near Banjhar market, where we faced problem when a Bolero Mini-truck coming from opposite side blocked our road. As there was less space available to pass, the front left tyre was almost went down into the deep trench used for passing waste water. After much maneuvering the steering wheel, I managed to get my car back on the road. Meanwhile, we got several calls from the Homestay to get the updates of our ETA. Finally, we reached our destination at sharp 8:00 pm, driving last half an hour in pitch dark in the narrow road with long trees on both the side of the road. Here the roads are a bit narrower than the road we found at Chhitkul. At some of the stretch it was little slippery due to mud. Till now we didn’t get any rain on our entire journey.
The Google Map in the Car showed that we have reached our destination, “The Majestic View X WanderHouse”, but surprisingly nothing was visible in our surroundings, not even the light of the homestay. We ranged up the Homestay who told us to stay there as he is sending someone to attend us and to take our luggage. Soon a person appeared from nowhere, who took our luggage and asked us to follow him. It was pitch dark, on a narrow hilly stretch moving steep upwards wide enough for only one person to climb at a time, the fellow who came for our luggage, moved up effortlessly with our luggage. After about 50-meters of steep upward climb we reached the gate of our homestay. Completing the usual formalities at the reception we were guided to our room. It was single room having king size double bed with a cupboard and two cushioned chairs and a center table with an attached bathroom and most interestingly a staircase to another double bed placed just above the double bed giving a feeling of duplex. It was pitch dark outside as such we were unable to see our surroundings from the balcony except sound of flowing water coming from some rivulet or drain. The person who came to drop our luggage requested us to join for the dinner at around 9.00 pm. One-by-one everyone of us freshened up after day long journey and stretched our legs trying to explore our surroundings in the pitch dark. All of us changed to our casual dress and met in the dining room downstairs to have our food. Food was included with our room charges that we forgot to mention here. In the buffet system they have arranged with options of Roti, Rice, Yellow Dal Tadka, Bondi Raita, Mix Sabji and Chicken Curry. We were hungry and the taste of the food was good… so we had a fill as per our hunger level. Thereafter, we all came to our room and got engrossed in our mobile to get the updates of the day and reply.
Day-2 (Friday, 16th August)
Sudipta, my wife, as usual got up early and I too woke up around 6.00 am. After freshening up, I went to the Balcony to witness the absolutely green surroundings. Dark blue sky, tall trees surrounding our homestay, cool weather, continuous sound of water flowing somewhere in the distance and chirping of the nameless birds. What a feeling!! We started exploring the length and breadth of the homestay from the balcony itself. We were informed to reach the dining room at 9.00 am by the chef for breakfast which consisted of a mix of Parathas with achaar, bread-butter toast/ sandwich, tea and coffee. At dining room, we came to know that there were 5 more persons staying in this homestay. Then 2 more boys and 3 girls came looking for accommodation. So it was a good crowd in that small dining room. The cook-cum-booking clerk-cum-caretaker was smart enough to handle everyone smilingly.
After breakfast, we left for our first destination, “The Jibhi Waterfall”, which was just 100 meters from our homestay. As it was little downhill, we decided to walk the distance. Reaching there, we realised that we had crossed the gate in the pitch dark last night when we came to the homestay. There was an Entry Gate, from where Rakhi purchased 5 tickets @ Rs.20/- each. I wondered why there’s a ticket for entering the park when it is not so popular to attract huge tourist inflow!! On entering we found that the place was nicely maintained by Forest Department of the local Government, without disturbing the natural beauty of the place. We found a very small stream flowing downwards near the entrance. We walked alongside it on upward direction for which a walk-way has also been made with small stones by the authority. After a little distance of about 200 meters, we reached the base of the waterfall. The height of the waterfall is about 50 ft., few other families are there taking snaps; we also got some for ourselves on different angle. It was lush green everywhere. After spending some time there, we decided to return. I went back to fetch our car which was at the base of our homestay.
After picking up my family from the gate of “Jibhi Waterfall”, we moved to our next destination, “the Kulhi Katandi”, popularly also known as “Mini Thailand”. On reaching there, we found that the Forest Department put up entry fee!! We found a small trail of walkway going downward; after about 400 meters of jig-jag walking downward and about 150 meters from the point where we parked our vehicle, a small rivulet came to our view. We leisurely walked along the stream enjoying every moment in the nature. After some time, we found the kaccha path have become narrower and we have to balance ourselves to cross the small difficult passage. After crossing this passage, we came to a point for which this place has been named “Mini Thailand”, where two huge rock forming as a triangle on one side of this rivulet. Very ideal for nature lovers who seeks solace in the lap of nature. Spending some half an hour there taking snaps etc., we walked towards the exit point. Midway we stopped at a Maggi-Momo point from where we had a plate of delicious Momo. Near the exit point, we found a small local dabha. As it was 1.30 pm, without wasting much time, we entered there to have our lunch. We ordered plain rice, roti, yellow dal, mixed sabji and one paneer delicacy. Food was really good.
After finishing our lunch, we decided to go for Jalori Pass which is about 20 KM by car, going steadily uphill at an altitude of 10814 feet (or say 3300 Meter). Our homestay at Jibhi is about 1600 Meter is just half the height. The road towards Jalori Pass is narrower and at some stretch it was muddy as well as slippery due to recent rains. We parked our car on the road side where many other cars and tempo travelers were parked as well. From here on, one has to trek to the Point Zero for the view… we too started to walk to reach the zero point of Jalori Pass which was about 4 KM of trekking through the jungle terrain. We started our trek at around 4.30 PM, but slowly the dark cloud started forming in the corner of the sky. Walking around a KM or so, we found it is impossible to reach to the top point at this speed and then return safely to our parking before rain started. So we aborted the idea and slowly came down to our starting point taking snaps for memory sake. Our return to homestay was eventless.
We reached our homestay around 7.00 pm. We asked the cook for tea with some pakoras but he said that he can provide tea only as he’s already late for the dinner arrangements. We had the tea with some dry snacks brought from Delhi and changed into more comfortable attire and patiently waited for the call for dinner. While we were enjoying the hot cup of tea with snacks, the rain started with full intensity. We thanked the god that the weather was kind, the whole day for us. Now that we were under a safe roof, enjoyed the downpour sitting on the balcony. Dinner was as usual good with chilly chicken as a non-veg item besides the dal-sabji-rice on the plate. It was drizzling when we came to the dining hall but now it had intensified again making it difficult to go back to our room from the dinning space. With the help of some umbrella, we reached our room taking our quota of drinking water for the day. Surfing the messages in the WhatsApp we retreated for the day.
Day-3 (Saturday, 17th August)
It was bright sunshine outside in the morning when I came to the balcony to assess the condition of the sky. Today we had planned to see the “Chhoyei” waterfall at Tirthan valley which is about 16 KM from our homestay spending the morning there till lunch. We also planned to have our lunch there at Khem Bharti homestay where we stayed during our previous visit. But at breakfast table, the cook gave us a very scary news that the road near “Jibhi Waterfall”, just 20 Meter downward from where our car was parked, has washed away in the last night’s heavy rain. He also informed that it is the only motorable road connecting other parts of the world. The message was too scary for all of us as none of our children was carrying Laptop with them. And if we are unable to return by Sunday, everybody has to skip their office. Except me and Sudipta, taking extra leave was difficult for the rest of the members. After breakfast, with heavy heart we slowly walked down to assess the extent of damages to the road and tried to find any possibility to reach the other side of the landslide. We found that there was a small cemented pipe underneath the road linking our homestay and rest of the valley for passing of rain water which was blocked by mud and big boulders in overnight rain. As a result, the water flowed over the road to the other side downhill sweeping away about 150-meter road completely.
We moved further juggling over the big boulders to the other side of the damaged road as we have no other things left to do for the day. Since morning we noticed that there was very little movement of vehicle on the road. News came that due to rain, at many places such roads were damaged for vehicular traffic. It was otherwise good sunshine and weather was also nice, so we leisurely walked down about 2 km to nearby village on the Jibhi-Banjar Road state highway under the shed of long trail of trees to explore the beauty of rural Indian village. It was 1.00 pm, so we looked out for a good dhaba/restaurant on the stretch. Soon Rakhi found one who was sitting idle and said that they served multi-cuisine food. However, the cook informed us that we have to wait for 15-20 minutes as he will prepare food in accordance to the order we placed.
We selected a table in the open balcony on the rivulet side to enjoy the view of small stream just beneath the dhaba. Looking at the worried face of Ruby, I suggested Soubhik to book a cab tomorrow from here to Mandi or Chandigarh and from there take a Volvo Bus to Delhi to reach Home on Sunday night itself as it is quite uncertain when the motorable road will be ready to take out our car from that landslide point. About half an hour later the food was served, hot and delicious. After paying the bill, we leisurely walked back to our homestay to take rest. As vehicles were quite less on the road due to blockages at several other places it was a bit risky to venture out further. Reaching our hotel, Soubhik informed that Ruby has talked to her contacts, who has offered to send a cab tomorrow morning to pick them up and drop them at Chandigarh Bus stop. Rakhi also insisted to accompany them. I decided to stay back with Sudipta till the road is repaired for our car to move out.
The evening was spent sitting in the balcony leisurely watching movement of vehicles on the other side of the rivulet. Dinner was served a little late. The other occupant in the homestay shared their excursion story how they spent the day without access of any vehicle. After dinner we left for our room to check on the messages and news of the day.
Day-4 (Sunday, 18th August)
With the chirping sound of birds in the midst of rumbling sound of waterflow, we all wake up early in the morning. Ruby, Rakhi and Soubhik were all set to leave for Chandigarh although with a heavy heart. Around 8 AM, Ruby got a call from the cab driver who was coming to pick them up. He asked her to share the location. Nearly an hour later, the driver informed that he has reached up to the point where the vehicle could reach after landslide. We took out the luggage and slowly traversed down the damaged road. Ruby’s contact has sent a good vehicle, a Mahindra KUV300. The Driver was in pure white dress, very soft spoken bearing a pleasant personality. Sharp at 9:30 AM, their vehicle started off slowly for Chandigarh.
Within a few minutes of their departure, we saw a JCB reaching the damaged spot to repair. It gave us immense joy that at last we can also move out from this patch of bad road. Meanwhile we packed our bags and settled our dues in the homestay. Around 12 noon, the driver of the other occupant came rushing to inform us that the road has been mended and opened for the traffic. Without waiting much for the other vehicles to come and jam the newly repaired road from all directions, Sudipta and myself taking not a moment more, got into our vehicle which happened to be the third one out from the repaired road. Meanwhile Sudipta ranged up Soubhik to know how far they have reached and also to inform them that we have started for the Home. Soubhik informed that very soon they will reach Mandi. So I instructed him to get down there at Mandi Bus stop from where we will pick them up in one and a half hour. They may have their breakfast by the time we reach there. We reached Mandi Bus Stop before the ETA of Google Map. As the expected time to reach Delhi showed 11:30 PM, not wasting much time there we continued for our return journey and I continued to be on the driver seat. In another 2 hours covering 120 km we reach a place called Gharauli which is in Punjab just before Kiratpur Sahib where we found a good Restaurant named “Manjeet’s”. Here we decided to have our lunch and stretch our legs and use the washrooms. This restaurant had good ambience. We had some quick lunch there as we had some food with ourselves that we consumed in the car. After half an hour break, we again started for our destination, targeting to reach home before 12 midnight. Now, Soubhik has took the charge of wheel. Till now we moved as per our plan but now Google Map showed the quickest route which is from Rajpura. Accordingly, we took the route map suggested. However, at Rajpura (Shambhu Border), we again found the road is closed for vehicular traffic. After rerouting about 4 Km we again reached the place where the road shows closed sign. I moved out of our car to enquire from a police man standing nearby who confirmed that according to Google map, many people were wrongly been getting diverted daily, whereas the road has been blocked at Sambhu Border by Kishan Morcha since long. At this juncture, I told Soubhik to return back to Bhanur and reroute his map to reach Ambala through Zirakpur travelling about 30 Km in this process we lost considerable time. Once we reached Chandigarh-Delhi NH Road, we found the road were not so crowded as otherwise expected being a long combination of holidays.
After about 100 km run on the GT Road, we decided to have our dinner somewhere near Karnal as it was 9.30 PM already. So, we stopped at Karnal Haveli where we had earlier experienced good food. This was actually a food court with many other food joints operating within same compound. Everybody went to washroom to relieve themselves and I went to the entrance of Karnal Haveli restaurant, where one fellow was distributing coupons with latest priority number. Very rational, well-maintained system I found. I got a ticket with 114 written on it. But in the door of the restaurant a digital display board shows the last coupon gone inside was 70. The fellow standing there told me to wait half an hour for our turn to come. Meanwhile others also joined me. Came to know the waiting status, we searched the other available outlet. There we found Delhi’s famous Karim’s also have an outlet which is relatively less crowded at that time. So we decided to have our dinner there… needless to say the food was also quite good. After finishing our dinner, we came out and checked the time which was showing 10:20 PM. Soubhik was feeling quite tired after driving the strenuous road from the point we took our lunch at around 3 PM. So I took the wheel now for the rest of our journey. Google was showing we would reach our home not before 1:30 AM. However, finally we reached our home at 1:00 AM sharp.
That is not the end of our journey. Very next day Soubhik went to take his car from the parking. There he found the rear right tyre is completely flat. To this we recalled that one bang sound came when we were near Bhalaswa Dairy in Delhi. I came out from the car to checkup. But did not notice any damage and we continued. Without any inkling I drove the remaining 30 KM distance to our home on a flat tire only to know the debacle the next day.
