JOURNEY IS MOST UNPLANNED
"Let come what comes, let go what goes. See what remains." ~ Ramana Maharshi
It is 6:32 p.m. July 25, 2015. It is raining outside. There is a blue trekking bag inside my room. A marble ashtray and a marble lamp stand. They are nothing.
Windy ride, smiling faces, green lofty hills, roaring brown waterfall, thin milky tall waterfall, the soft white clouds below my eye. They were, and are also nothing.
The roads and the sky were my only friends. A passionate traveler, I have been.
I waved my right hand, out the open window from the bluish local bus to one of my closest friend in May 22, 2010.
After listening to several hours of roaring engine, the wheels lounged. I begged to climb up on the hoot of the marvelous machine.
I passed through the winds like they used to pass, through me. Villagers holding their bamboo basket tightly with one hand, laughed, smoked cigarettes and smoke disappeared before it left their lips. They illuminated me of "Marble Mountains" in dolakha.
The engine kept rolling along with “Rolling Stones” on my earphone, A young girl says, “I'm certain now, every young guy with long hairs listen to same kind of music.”, smiling.
Her and my destination was same for that day. After six hours of singing experience and silence with locals, we reached Jiri, Gateway to Everest. She preferred coffee. I booked my room in Cherdung hotel.
The next day, I carried my blue bag and analogue camera. The owner of the hotel suggested me various places at Jiri. I found the Cherdung Peak, the most challenging.
Five hours of climbing, writing, taking pictures, greeting locals, to conquer the Cherdung Peak. I found a DDC factory (I find them almost every places, I climb in Nepal). I wanted to buy some cheese, but they were only allowed to sell huge amount of cheese (out of question to be carried).
The manager of that place offered me mohi for free. I took few sips from a huge green jug and bid farewell. I had climbed only for few minutes, when an old lady called me.
She requested me not to climb anymore as it was about to rain. She warned, from that place onward, no any human could be found. I smiled to reply, “I shall return when it is required. I am not afraid at all”, and thanked her kindness.
There were literally no any human signs, only my secret old friends, deep woods. The sky grew darker and suddenly I got a piercing shot on my head! It were hailstones! Good lord, I was frightened.
I had no tents, I had planned to return to my hotel with a torch. I took shelter under a huge tree but it was going to be no help. It promised very heavy rain. I packed my camera very well and began to run down hills. I ran furiously shouting to release my failure. My ego was badly hurt.
After half an hour of struggle, I reached to the DDC. The kind manager cum worker, welcomed me smiling. He lit fire for me and made a cup of tea. I sat staring fire for hours.
I took our pictures. I learnt about his life. He had been working there for ten years! He had two daughters and a son. His family lived in the bazzar, near my hotel.
He was happy for his children, being educated. wonder! hearts always find a connection to share. It was almost dark when I left for my hotel, but the rain had stopped.
While climbing downhill, I could see few houses far below like a faint music...where I had to be . A gang of mist came flying towards me. I stopped. That was something I've never seen before.
I sat on a huge stone and cherished the scenario. O! the frosty lovely touch found me earlier than I expected. I had planned to compose a poem sitting there but it became impossible to see anything. I was lost surprisingly! I had to climb down carefully and it slowed my pace.
It has stopped raining now. We keep learning us, "ourselves" in different ways. one may or not reach the Cherdung Peak, and the journey is lived, neither taken nor asked.