Footloose and Foodist

A Hey-ho and a Hiking we go

If you live or have lived in the hill, walking up and down the uneven terrain is not enough, any opportunity that arises, people put on their hiking shoes, strap their rucksacks and off they go. I plead guilty to snatching any chance to take to the hiking trails and despite huffing, puffing, sweating and often asking myself why-on-earth-have-I-got-myself- into-this, I return with an inexplicable sense of happiness and lightness of soul. Long ago someone told me that it was because those who live or have lived in the hills do not have fully formed brains as the ups and downs that we walk everyday never allows/allowed our grey cells to settle down firmly! And so like robots we are wired to keep walking and the more rough the terrain, the more inspired we get. Whatever, but this time in Manali I found myself going for hikes on three consecutive days. The first was from Vivaan-The Sunrise Resort to Hadimba temple and further above. The second happened accidentally and the third one despite being a planned one happened rather late in the day. Incidentally the second and third was to the same destination, Kanyal Falls except that the first time was a solo one and I took the 'low road' to the falls and the next day the 'high road'.

It was quite a warm day for the hills and I decided to take a walk to the Mother Tree in Kanyal Village. On the way I met two cute little brothers, rosy cheeked and all, walking down, arms across each others shoulders. They refused to say hello or their names! An adult accompanying them laughed and said that everyone called them Veeru and Jai (remember the heroes from Sholay!) because the brothers were inseparable. As I walked up further, I heard one of them shout, without looking back of course, that they would soon be going on a picnic. What he said made sense once I reached the village and saw a group of kids, all boys, cheering on two older boys who were precariously balancing two wooden poles, one on each shoulder, one boy in front and the other behind, while on a wooden platform on the poles was a village deity dressed in gaudy shiny clothes Actually I couldn't make out the deity as it seemed to be totally wrapped up and it was just bling all the way. In Himachal Pradesh, especially in Kullu Manali, every village has its own deity/deities that are often taken out in a procession to visit other areas or attend some events. I assumed that it was time for the Kanyal Village deity to go on a visit somewhere. My query as to where they were taking the village deity drew a snort from one of the women hanging around, who said that the kids had made the deity themselves and were now taking it on a picnic! It was then that I noticed that two to three cloth bags dangled down from the wooden poles and the kids were putting in degchis, karai and some rice and vegetables.

Brothers-in-arms, Veeru and Jai!

It was both a funny and a touching sight. You think of kids their age in the cities and their obsession with electronic gadgets, video games and everything man made and pricey and here were little boys all excited about going for a picnic with a crudely constructed god. Could I please accompany them? At first, everyone laughed and then one scrawny, very rosy cheeked boy, points to the vertical climb up the apple orchard and the forest beyond and says, can you walk up there? Of course I can, I retort back. I have just one request, could they please wait for 10-15 minutes while I run back to my room and fetch the camera. I also wanted to pick up the cookies, granola etc lying in the room. Yes, they say and I run back; I run like I have never done before, all thudding heart, complaining knee and pouring sweat. I get back, they have left. Didn't they promise to wait, I almost scream at some of the women still sitting around and chatting. One of them tells me they must be just up there, run and you'll meet them. Run? hah! But I do pant my way up to a point, I don't see them or even their voices in the distance. I stomp back, angry and disappointed.

As I catch my breath and look around I can see Kanyal Falls gushing down in the distant hills and a little above it to its right is the white glacier streak, narrowing a little as it heads down. Before I know it I am walking again - towards the falls. The villages houses are close to each other and the paths crisscrossing them are narrow and keep turning. In some of the small courtyards or what we call aangan, harvested crops are spread out in the sun. There are cows, calves, goats and kids cavorting around, lazily chewing cud or simply idling in the sun. The village interestingly has one common bathing house for women and there quite a few around it, busy washing clothes or drying their hair. They refuse permission for photographs. A little ahead a house is being pulled down and most of the workers seem to be the village men themselves. I ask for direction and am instead asked if I want to take the 'high road' or the 'low road'. I naturally opt for the low one. It's not exactly on a level, the narrow path where I have to step over cow dung or push away prickly plants coming in the way seems to follow a pattern, it climbs gradually up to a point and then starts going down a bit. It's a very warm day and there is no respite from the hot sun. After about an hour and little more and repeatedly questioning my sanity, my path is blocked by a mother cow and her calf. She is huge and the calf is not lean either; maybe the organic fodder gives them extra girth but that girth is in my way. There is no way I am going to move them out of my way and certainly there is no way for the cows to be polite, step aside and give way. But if there are cows there has to be a cowherd around. Hallelujah! there is. I shout out loud couple of times asking if there is anyone around with the cows. After quite a bit, while I fume and fret, an elderly man with weather beaten face ambles into my view. Perched on his head is the typical Himachali cap and he is not only wearing a full sleeved sweater but also a long waistcoat over it! If I am amused at his attire, he sniggers at me for being scared of cows. I stop myself from retorting back that I am not scared. If I had said that I'm sure I would have stomped my foot too.

Kanyal Falls (left) and the glacier (right top)

Crop and cow- in sun and in shade

The cowherd - Shri Kishan Chand Thakur (he added the shri, I didn't) - has more questions than I can answer - what I'm doing there all alone; why do I need to hike to the falls all alone; where have I come from; where am I staying; what do I plan to do at the falls (twiddle my thumbs!); will I be able to walk further; blah blah blah and as the little bit of patience I have is fast depleting he comes up with the total downer - why am I taking the 'low road' to the falls, didn't anyone tell you that you cannot reach the falls because just a little bit before it, the path has caved in! Funny, very funny. So what do I do? Oh, says Kishan Chand Thakur airily, pointing to another extremely narrow path snaking up the hills, take this road, go up straight to the top and you will find the 'high road' there and take that. Sure, I will, I'm superwoman after all! I have taken the 'low road' and I will stick to it. Okay, he shrugs, clearly the least bit bothered if some woman from the city wants to take a route to the falls even if that route has caved in! He finally shoos the cows away (they seemed to more scared than I was) but before that he points to the camera and asks the obvious question, you take photos too. No sirree, its just a decor piece I am tempted to say but obviously I ask him he would like a photograph taken. Kishan Chand Thakur first finds himself a shady niche in the forest, takes out a cloth from his bag, spread it out and sits himself, all ready for the shoot. He looks straight into the camera and after seeing the picture, he wants more taken.

Shri Kishan Chand Thakur

It's lonely hiking alone; every time I see something exciting and want to share I find myself laughing at myself. You also feel the newly developing aches more. But after every step the falls looks nearer and that keeps me going, as does the childhood song that we chorused every time we had to walk over long distance. Who cares if your voice is croaky enough to frighten a crow, being alone in the wilderness gives you the liberty to sing aloud and I do. It's more a ditty and it goes:

A soldier got drunk

and he packed up his trunk

and he left,

and that serves him jolly well right

The trick is to put you left foot out and start signing, the rhythm sets in immediately.Magically you will find that when you say left it is indeed your left foot and when you say right, it is the right one. Believe me there is nothing like this infectious ditty to get you to cover distances smoothly and easily. I try to remember the other one- there was a girl with ginger red hair and can't remember further, the drunk soldier song has got ingrained. The greenery on the way gets thicker and taller and at times I have to use both my hands to push them away from my face. A little voice inside tells me that this path has not been used for a long time and it is wiser to turn back, but the legs carry on, especially as the falls one the left side and the glacier streak on the right don't seem to be that far away anymore. And there it is, the damn caved in path around a bend. Before me lie some boulders and a tiny little rivulet that suddenly springs from underneath one, flows over pebbles and disappears into the forests. Across it and down below, standing on tiptoes I can barely make a gushing stream passing by. The path ends abruptly and so does my solo hike, turn to tuck in the tail and walk back!

Alone is lonesome

The falls looks nearer

The greenery grows denser and taller

The feeling of disappointment, of being so near and so far lingers. The next day, despite the leg muscles pleading for rest, I am ready for the hike. This time it is the 'high road'. Above all, this time we manage to rope in Gupt Ram, the Vivaan-The Sunrise Resort gardener and a resident of Kanyal Village to be our guide. One of the team member is Ajay Sohal, an 'Everestor' and who in 2013 missed the honour of being the youngest to have scaled Mount Everest by just a couple of months! Just 17+ he displays total chivalry, staying by my side all the way and being encouraging. In fact, once when the rest had moved ahead and we or rather I was trying to catch up and Ajay diligently stayed by my side, we took the wrong turn and hiked further up the hill quite a bit till Gupt Ram hollered for us to get down - Ajay magnanimously said that I was a good hiker and naturally, I preened all the way. The route was a challenging one of climbing up and climbing up and climbing up and up with little breaks of somewhat gentle levels. We took breaks, we found 'lingdi' ( wild edible ferns) growing all over, we came across wild strawberries that we thought wise to leave alone not sure if there were seeds breaking through the skin (in that you keep a safe distance unless you want a massive headache and some nausea too) and yes we shooed some cows away too, this time there was no cowherd around but Gupt Ram stepped in every time.

Before we start on our hike, we say hello to the playful village kids- the four-legged ones!

From Mount Everest to here -Ajay Sohal

Gupt Ram - Gardener and Guide

First the sound was barely discernible and then gradually, like the roar of an approaching jet plane it pounded our ears. Kanyal Falls was right ahead and I stopped myself from hopping around with sheer joy. It had been hours and the leg muscles especially the knees had whined all the way, but it was now a few steps away from Mission Accomplished! Suddenly from top of the hills, the falls thundered down, a little narrow at times, very curvaceous-ly at times. Wham, it was right there and after going down a bit, tremulously stepping over boulders, crouching down a naturally formed wooden arch (I would have really liked to believe otherwise and say that was the falls accorded us a warm welcome!) we were there finally. At one side the crystal, chilled icy waters appeared to be in a rushing hurry to run down into the forest below and on the other side, we sat speechless and awed.Thankfully, all of us there knew that you do not take a chance with nature, especially with waterfalls, never. (I must have been barely six or seven years when someone's visiting nephew was swept away by Elephant Falls in Shillong; his body was found after several days. Most of the time the body is never recovered.) The hilly waters might small compared to the giant rivers elsewhere, might look inviting and refreshing but the undercurrents are dangerous and we all resisted the temptation to dip in our feet. On the way back, it was downhill almost all the way and indescribable sensation in the knees was loud and clear - no more hiking. Sure!. I will have to wait for sometime to break in my new pair with a touch of dark pink on black.