PARTRIDGES AMONG THE PINES DEODARS
Noel Coward got it quite wrong. It's not only mad dogs and Englishmen who go out in the midday sun! And not all 'Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one'. Can't speak for the Argentines but I want to, especially in today's times, make it crystal clear that the 'Hindus' of Noel Cowards 1931 song denotes natives! That's exactly what we did on a rather warm day in Shimla - start out on a to and fro 15 km walk through the Shimla Water Catchment Wildlife Sanctuary. Though quite tempted to say arduous trek, the bare truth is that most of the path is quite level except for the last 1 kilometre steep climb up to the forest guest house.
Escaping the inferno heat of Delhi even for a couple of days to Shimla, most of which was work related, was a much welcome respite. To be told that Shimla was unusually warm for the season, before we started out, was not good news. Thankfully, a sharp shower in the morning before our arrival brought the temperature a notch or two down. In between came Sunday and that was the day we decided to brave the hike in the catchment area. Since it is both a catchment area and wildlife sanctuary, the forest is off limits to the public. Special permission has to be sought from the forest department for entry of any kind.
Escaping the inferno heat of Delhi even for a couple of days to Shimla, most of which was work related, was a much welcome respite. To be told that Shimla was unusually warm for the season, before we started out, was not good news. Thankfully, a sharp shower in the morning before our arrival brought the temperature a notch or two down. In between came Sunday and that was the day we decided to brave the hike in the catchment area. Since it is both a catchment area and wildlife sanctuary, the forest is off limits to the public. Special permission has to be sought from the forest department for entry of any kind.
The morning was bright and sunny. By the time we assembled- friends and their friends- at the entry gate it was close to midday and the warm factor was rising fast.
Hiking is somewhat like life. Eventually every hiker finds her or his pace and strides along irrespective of whether the others are keeping step, moving ahead or lagging behind. Amidst conversations we started out more or less together but less than a kilometre later, the group had splintered. Some chose to take a leisurely pace, some gave and preferred to opt for car comfort (special permission again). Bicycles are also available for those who prefer to bike it. But remember the terrain of the path is such that it can be quite a rattling ride. The husband opted for the bike on the return journey and apparently the back and behind didn't like it!
By the time a few of us reached the first marker announcing the 7Km distance to the Seog Rest House, the chirpy group had scattered and the rest were not to be seen! The forest trail is just, a trail, wide enough to let a mid size car drive on but left as it is. During the monsoon it will be a muddy fair and worse, possibly slippery I fear. Within half a kilometre or so, the traffic noise from the road above on the left side dies out and all around is just nature - the whistling of the breeze through the trees, a lacy hazy pattern made by the sunlight filtering through the trees and occasional bird chirping. On the right side it's either a gradient slope or a sharp fall and across it towering forested hills again.
The Deodars (Himalayan Cedar Trees) naturally lorded over the rest. In fact, it looked like the dominant species with a grudging graciousness decided to make some space for other varieties! The Himalayan oak is an endangered tree in North India and it was delightful to come across some majestic ones. A special thanks to the forest department for labelling them so that even a tree philistine can stop to admire them. Firs and spruce can also be seen along the way. All along the way there are boards on the side listing the Himalayan flowers, birds, butterflies etc likely to be found in the sanctuary. Unfortunately, it could be because the shades provided by the trees or the wrong timing or whatever, not many flowers were to be seen. There were however giant ferns all around. Despite being on the look out, no butterfly flitted around on the way. It was only near the water reservoir that one found a spread of Spanish grass or broom stock and as if to colour coordinate the scenery, some small yellow butterflies whizzed around.
Nature takes it own course the say and it felt sad to see some of the trees, having outlived their days, lying forlornly where they had fallen. What happens to them? Is it dust to dust or is it the chopping axe? Sigh! After a point one realises that the trail is almost horse shoe shaped and halfway into the 7km plus trek, a natural curve takes one to the other half of the horse shoe. There are green benches thoughtfully provided all along the route and the temptation to slack off and rest for a while needs some fighting off.
The noise of a vehicle draws near signalling that someone or maybe more have bitten the dust and succumbed to car comfort. My friend and I look at each other and stand aside to make way. Human vanity is strange, we can't help a mocking smile creep in. And no, we needn't pat each other. A little stop here and there to pose for the camera or examine a fallen tree and before we know it,we come across a board that says Seog Rest House is only 2 Km away. There is a jaunty spring in our steps. Yes, we are in the lead!
The smugness lasts till we hit the climb up. It's a straight up path and heavy breathing is the order of the day. Strive and you shall reach your destination say all wise folks and we did. A lovely wood and green roofed cottage with a verandah greeted us and nothing could have been more welcoming than the spacious bathrooms! Then came the platters of fruits, spicy chicken snacks, chilled beer and assorted spirits! The mention of chilled beer in Himachal Pradesh always brings back funny memories. Eons ago, on my first visit to Manali, every roadside eatery seemed to be sporting boards announcing the availability of 'child beer'. My favourite was one which, with an elaborate scrawl, called out to every one with cheery;
Oh dear, don't fear
Come here for child beer.
And below a little space was the inimitable line that said,
Also available paan cake
The meal that followed was wholesome and plentiful. After a 7 and a half kilometre constant hike, sitting down to a spread of rajma, rice, kadi, chicken curry, paneer curry in a little cottage on top of a hill in the midst of a wildlife sanctuary was nirvana indeed. The caretaker cum cook, Daulat Ram did it all with aplomb. Incidentally, he has living there for the last 7 years all alone! With total nonchalance he says there are three types of leopards in the sanctuary and it was quite common to see them hanging around the cottage.When nightfall comes, I ask him naively, does the loneliness get accentuated. Why wait for nightfall, he says with a laugh, the moment you all leave it will be lonely whatever time of the day or night. He does however, sometime walk down to the catchment area where are some sentries for human company. It's an existence difficult to fathom.
Rested and 'fully fed up' as we Indians tend to say after a hearty meal, we walk down to the catchment area. There's stillness and serenity. Whatever we might have to say about colonial rule and all that, credit must be given where it is due and the British certainly did a stupendous job of building the catchment reservoir. Centuries later it is still in a spiffy condition and the more knowledgeable among us point out that the shape of the reservoir is such that no pressure is put on any of the walls even during overflows. What is remarkable is that the water supply is based on gravity as the area was tapped long before the advent of electricity as the Forest Department brochure tells us!
Would it be possible to walk back all the way? Yep it was. It was the same story again, some diving into cars, some biking and us foot soldiers marching again. The sanctuary, one was told was rich in bird life and was home to to birds typical of the Himalayan region ranging from specked wood-pigeon,Himalayan woodpecker, yellow billed magpie, black crested tit, green backed it and above all, it had a very high density of Koklass pheasant. Unfortunately, all along despite the bird chirping we sighted none until the last moment. It was as if they were waiting for us to go away. It was only as we neared the catchment, a few of us heard some rustle and suddenly there were these birds scampering away. They looked like grey partridges and there were quite a number of them. Halfway on the hike back, some more rustling and more partridges seemed to be heading in a hurry towards the opposite direction. The surmise was that they were possibly heading for the watering hole.
For those figuring out whether solitude is the answer to loneliness, I can only say find yourself walking alone on a trail in a lush forest and you'll get it! Returning back to the starting point, at one time I found that I was all by myself and it was a beautiful experience. the foot walked to its own beat and with every stride the mind said, aw back to the world and worse, back to the hot climes of Delhi soon. The day had been perfect but as we all know perfection sometimes drags along pitfalls too. Waiting for the others at the entry point, a car stopped and it was surprising to see some of the younger and more fitter ones stepping out. Couldn't they complete the hike? A young commercial pilot just had a narrow escape. He had been biking and before he knew it, he was hurtling down the sharp gradient. Swift thinking got him to let go of the bike and roll on to the other side. His shoulder took all the brunt when he managed to break his slide by hitting a tree. The bike zoomed down. Thankfully he was not alone and the others managed to get him up to the trail - horrible bruises and scratches all over. His right shin had an awful cut and more frighteningly it was swelling. The brave heart of course said there couldn't be any broken bones as he had successfully hopped on it and went ahead to demonstrate it! A hospital visit later, it turned out he was right!
Back to so called civilisation it felt good to have taken on 15 Km, more or less, in less than half a day. That naturally called for celebration and so it was with a drive straight to Pappi da Dhaba! For the uninitiated this is the little hole-in-the-wall affair at Sanjauli, the much preferred joint of youngsters. The Dhaba, I believe, has been there forever. Somewhere along the line, the two brothers who ran the show fell out over something and one of them stormed out to put up his own dhaba literally next door with a similar name. I don't know whether we were in the original one or the copy cat but who cares. The pièce de résistance here, we were told was the hand made magical hot coffee with cashew nuts and chocolate, a secret recipe of the Sardarji proprietor. On the way to it, there was a bit of a debate on whether it would be a wise move, whether we could actually sit there and all that jazz. The aye votes prevailed.
It's a small dhaba that certainly could do with sprucing up and coats of paints, but all that pales into insignificance when the coffee turns up. Served in tall glasses with a luscious froth on top complete with chunks of cashew nuts and drizzles of gooey chocolate, the coffee in plain language without any embellishment, is pure heaven. They come with spoons and you will soon know why. The creamy froth has to be scooped up and as it melts in your mouth, you also bite into little sugar granules besides of course, the generous amount of cashews. If there was any trace of tiredness, it all melted away in a jiffy. After that long a hike, there had to be some 'eats' too and they were. In keeping with our desi roots - remember Noel Coward and Hindus - it was assorted pakodas and bread pakodas, deep fried all the way to kingdom come and scrumptious like hell! We deserved it, didn't we?
Rested and 'fully fed up' as we Indians tend to say after a hearty meal, we walk down to the catchment area. There's stillness and serenity. Whatever we might have to say about colonial rule and all that, credit must be given where it is due and the British certainly did a stupendous job of building the catchment reservoir. Centuries later it is still in a spiffy condition and the more knowledgeable among us point out that the shape of the reservoir is such that no pressure is put on any of the walls even during overflows. What is remarkable is that the water supply is based on gravity as the area was tapped long before the advent of electricity as the Forest Department brochure tells us!
For those figuring out whether solitude is the answer to loneliness, I can only say find yourself walking alone on a trail in a lush forest and you'll get it! Returning back to the starting point, at one time I found that I was all by myself and it was a beautiful experience. the foot walked to its own beat and with every stride the mind said, aw back to the world and worse, back to the hot climes of Delhi soon. The day had been perfect but as we all know perfection sometimes drags along pitfalls too. Waiting for the others at the entry point, a car stopped and it was surprising to see some of the younger and more fitter ones stepping out. Couldn't they complete the hike? A young commercial pilot just had a narrow escape. He had been biking and before he knew it, he was hurtling down the sharp gradient. Swift thinking got him to let go of the bike and roll on to the other side. His shoulder took all the brunt when he managed to break his slide by hitting a tree. The bike zoomed down. Thankfully he was not alone and the others managed to get him up to the trail - horrible bruises and scratches all over. His right shin had an awful cut and more frighteningly it was swelling. The brave heart of course said there couldn't be any broken bones as he had successfully hopped on it and went ahead to demonstrate it! A hospital visit later, it turned out he was right!
Back to so called civilisation it felt good to have taken on 15 Km, more or less, in less than half a day. That naturally called for celebration and so it was with a drive straight to Pappi da Dhaba! For the uninitiated this is the little hole-in-the-wall affair at Sanjauli, the much preferred joint of youngsters. The Dhaba, I believe, has been there forever. Somewhere along the line, the two brothers who ran the show fell out over something and one of them stormed out to put up his own dhaba literally next door with a similar name. I don't know whether we were in the original one or the copy cat but who cares. The pièce de résistance here, we were told was the hand made magical hot coffee with cashew nuts and chocolate, a secret recipe of the Sardarji proprietor. On the way to it, there was a bit of a debate on whether it would be a wise move, whether we could actually sit there and all that jazz. The aye votes prevailed.
It's a small dhaba that certainly could do with sprucing up and coats of paints, but all that pales into insignificance when the coffee turns up. Served in tall glasses with a luscious froth on top complete with chunks of cashew nuts and drizzles of gooey chocolate, the coffee in plain language without any embellishment, is pure heaven. They come with spoons and you will soon know why. The creamy froth has to be scooped up and as it melts in your mouth, you also bite into little sugar granules besides of course, the generous amount of cashews. If there was any trace of tiredness, it all melted away in a jiffy. After that long a hike, there had to be some 'eats' too and they were. In keeping with our desi roots - remember Noel Coward and Hindus - it was assorted pakodas and bread pakodas, deep fried all the way to kingdom come and scrumptious like hell! We deserved it, didn't we?
