On The Journey

I could see her as she made her way up the rough terrain. She seemed to be competing against herself, trying to leave the group behind. Look, I can make it faster and better, she seemed to be saying. It was not as if I was part of the group either. But, what happens in journeys such as this is that you start together, and you try to keep together in a bid to end together. It’s what nature, particularly when the going is tough, does to you. So it was with us, the motley group of people, on our way up the tough mountain trek to attain spiritual salvation or to celebrate with nature’s glory; each to his own.

I had noticed her, rather her long hair, which lay plaited like a thick black snake, literally long enough to encircle her delicate waist. Was she beautiful? That’s a question for the beholder to decide. I was caught in the black depths of those far-away eyes. Now, before you get any thought about my desirous intentions, I have a point to clarify. She was a woman, a rare species in the given circumstance, a defiant image of shy boldness, her face a fleeting image that did not give you time to consider her beauty. So, it is, but obvious, that she stood out, in that stark landscape.

Now, why I noticed her was a little more and beyond these obvious reasons. At times, we had stopped at precisely the same instant, within a metre of each other, resting on the rocks that lined the deep gorge. Though this sequence of events was random at first, it became more planned, as the group thinned along the way. I had the feeling that she was trying to keep an assuring distance from me. Not too close to send any signal, yet not too far to risk any danger.

I was feeling quite tired, and stopped at the first tea-stall that had appeared like a divine intervention, after what seemed like miles. I watched, as she made each tired step around the bend in the road, her flushed face set with dogged determination. Slumping on to the rickety wooden bench, she looked up. Our eyes met, and those dark pools melted into their depths. Quite a novice in matters that concerned women, I hesitated thinking of an appropriate reaction. By the time I smiled back, she had turned away to order her tea. We sat sipping the milky concoction. Back home, this thick variety would not be taken sportingly, where tea meant flavour and liquor. The tea was quite hot, and as she blew into it, the vapour rose like a mist and veiled her face. She did not attempt to speak, and I was left with my unspoken words. I wanted to know her name, ask her why she was alone, and where she had come from. She gazed across the valley to the faraway mountains that stretched along unending, range after range, as far as the eye could see. I did not want to interfere in her solitude.

The tea-stall owner seemed a more agreeable person, and I started talking with him. I noticed that she was listening to our conversation. Since, I had heard at the bus stand about a short-cut that would be much faster though more rocky, I asked Mangu Lal about it. “Han sahib, hain na! Ap thordi age jao tow, bayen taraf thodi chadai mein ak rasta gayen hain. Ap aramse ek der ghante mein pounch jayenge. Par apko us raste mein khane pine ka kuch milega nehi.” Considering this bit of information, I was tempted. The rest had revived me a little, the smile of those dark eyes had created a ripple and I felt a little adventurous. Suddenly I saw her getting up, the empty tea cup and the two rupee coin was placed on the table. Before I could give my money, she had started. As I walked to catch up, suddenly I was plagued with the though that she knew I would rush after her. Her confident steps, as it vanished round the next bend, resounded with the knowledge that I would follow her.

She turned back, hearing me call out to her. I had to shout, as she was about to take the right-hand road. Seeing me hurrying up to catch her, she waited, blinking, as she faced the sun. I tried to organise my thoughts, as I walked towards her. “This left-hand road would be faster. Mangu Lal was saying. I am taking this way. Would you like to come?” She hesitated, as if letting the information and the proposal sink down to the depths of her realisation. I felt confused. Was it such a big decision? Then suddenly, she shook her head to signal a negative answer, and took the longer, familiar, well-travelled path. As I took the up-ward turn, I saw her vanish around a bend in the road. I felt low, not because she had not come with me, but because her eyes had clearly said that she did not trust me or my intentions.

As I trudged along, I found myself trying to reason out the thoughts in her mind. The situation presented itself to me, as she would have seen it. A man asking her to accompany her on a lonely road, in a desolate area; it was unnerving. I dismissed the thought, as I slowly got immersed in the surrounding beauty, the trickling waterfalls and the stray wild life. I reached in little more than an hour and went straight to the lodging house.

Next day I saw her, as the long line of devotees meandered along the narrow path. I adjusted my camera, as I focussed on the beautiful snow-capped peaks. Suddenly she was walking beside me. “Hello. I was planning to start early morning, tomorrow. Will you come with me?”