As the green landscape bade adieu to
the speeding car that wheeled through what could be used by high-school
teachers as an example of oxymoron- the beautiful badlands, Barun experienced
lack of oxygen. Psychologically. And a little later, biologically. Or may be, in
the other order.
Too educated to experience the slowdown
of time around him, he wanted the journey to end. It had been back-breaking. He
had never driven so far up. And for so long. As trees almost disappeared from
his rear-view mirror, he smiled at what was printed on it: Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. Lies, his heart protested.
He turned on the music to divert his attention from the reducing oxygen level. Within
minutes, he knew it wouldn’t work. He undid one button of his shirt to let air
in.
Barun slowed the car down in the middle
of the road. There was no vehicle in sight. He killed the engine and heaved a
deep sigh. Looking at the watch and then outside the window, he knew it was
time for sundown, except that he didn’t feel darkness was imminent. His mind
asked him not to trust the watch. He took a Diamox
to fight altitude-sickness. Instant relief wasn’t promised. At least, he saw no
signs!
For Barun, it was no longer a journey-
it was a challenge. He had fought at home and at office to earn this break. He
was escaping the pollution, the population and the games of probability he was
tired of playing. He did not know why he acted like he did. You could call it
madness. Or revolt. Or a burst of energy bottled only to be released like
shaken soda.
He hadn’t spoken to anyone for almost a
day! None except the tea-stall or dhaba
owner where he stopped to get himself rejuvenated. He did not feel very good. He
wanted to make a phone call. He knew he could not. There was an intense feeling
of simultaneous push and pull- one forcing him away from the regularities of
civilization to the world of unknown and the other luring him towards
familiarity with utmost energy. This was a dilemma he hadn’t expected. Familiar
triviality versus Alien grandeur!
As brain overruled his heart, he jumped
into the car, tied his seat-belt and gave life to his engine. He was headed for
the nearest village. As he approached, he saw houses converted to motels to
accommodate travelers scattered here and there. A few, very few- were up to his
‘standard’. He checked in one of them. He badly wanted a hot-water bath.
“It takes half an hour to boil water
here.”
Disappointed, he went to the bathroom
and washed his face with cold water.
“Is there a phone here? An STD booth?”
“Yes, sir, there’s one down there but
it usually remains offline.”
“What do you have for dinner?”
“Whatever we eat, we’ll serve you. Rice,
dal, chapati, vegetables. It will be very tasty, I promise. If you want
chicken, we can get it for you tomorrow.”
He wouldn’t wait to have chicken the
next day and taste was the last thing on his mind.
Barun heard weird sounds all night and
kept squirming in his bed. He wanted to run away. In the morning he left without
even a cup of tea. As he drove through the curves, he lived in constant fear of
death. What was happening? Was it because of the lack of sleep last night? Was
it acrophobia? Was it loneliness? Was it his difficulty in accepting his new way
of life?
As the tires rolled dangerously close
to the edge of the road, Barun woke up in sweat, gasping.
On his
bed. In his room.
The first thing he did was to go
straight to the next room where his daughter was getting ready for school. He picked
her up and hugged her.
“Papa, when are you leaving for your
tour?”
“I’m not going. We are going”, smiled Barun, visibly transiting from a state of
relief to that of happiness.
