BACKPACKING IN INDIA

TREKKING OVER LIPULEKH PASS - INDO TIBET BORDER


BACKPACKING IN INDIA

BACKPACKING IN MIZORAM

Mizoram is unlike any other part of India I have ever visited. The culture is very Chinese like and the only part of India where Hindi is not at all spoken. English is quite fluently used by the younger generation.

Aizwal is the main hub and during winter, the sun sets early by 5PM. Public transport and eateries close by 6PM and the town pretty much shuts down after that. Well I stayed in the Youth Hostel for Rs 40/night, which is as cheap as it gets, but the hostel is somewhat on the outskirts of the town.

There is also a tourist office in the town where a dynamic officer helped me plan visits to the south of Mizoram. I traveled south to Phangpui – The Blue Mountains Range for trekking and also to Palakdil Lake in Saiha district.

Reaching Phangpui takes a day and a half by bus and unfortunately I reached there on a Sunday and the entire town was pretty much closed with no public transport plying to the next village from where I was to begin my trek. There were a few taxis but no other passengers to share the taxi ride. I waited for almost half a day before a taxi driver took pity and decided to ride me for half the fare. We got to another in-between town and the dirt road got so slushy and potted that the maruthi 800 taxi could no longer negotiate it and he turned around and dropped me off there. It takes a 4-wheel drive to tackle that type of terrain and I was informed that transport would be available only the next day. So I had to halt there for the night. Well there were no guesthouses in this village and one of the locals arranged for a cot for me in his house. I was very grateful and accepted his offer.

There was just this one makeshift house modified into a restaurant, which served some boiled eggs and rice. I ordered and was waiting for my meal. I was joined by a couple of locals who looked quite drunk. They started to chat with me and after a few dialogues they seemed to be annoyed by something about my visit and the party started to get rough and physical. It was obvious that they were offended by something and they wanted me to leave the coffee shop. Out of nowhere my host came bustling in and bailed me out by dragged me outside. What about my dinner I protested! That was the whole point. I was putting up with the drunken chap just long enough to grab a quick dinner. There was no time for that. What seemed like obscene abuses, were hurled at me and the entire coffee shop was in quite a commotion by then. I grabbed a couple of boiled eggs and that was to be my dinner.

My host had a fire going and I was invited by his family to join them by the fireplace. I had some instant noodles for such situations, so we boiled some water and I ate my meal of noodles. I thanked him and paid for my cot. He had three adorable kids. I wanted to give them something else apart from the candies and biscuits that I had shared with them earlier during the day. Getting a smile and a sparkle from their eyes is quite a feast is a feeling which can melt the stoniest of hearts. Well I offered each of them some money so that their father could buy something for them. The host started to protest at first but that was the least I could do for those little angels and convinced him to keep the money. I could tell that they were barely able to make ends meet and knew that a little money would make a difference to their lives at least for a while.

The act of giving and receiving is a strange cycle of karma - like a wheel of fortune. We are all continually giving and receiving various elements in life - winning and losing, acquiring and renouncing. It was as if I was destined to stop here in this house just to give. Imagine the sequence of events, which led to this moment in time and space so that I could give. This wasn’t even my destination. I didn’t even know this village ever existed. It was as if I was an actor thrown in out of nowhere, to play a part in a karmic drama called life.

Well the next day I took a shared 4-wheel drive to the next town, which was the start point for the trek to the Blue Mountains. I had been informed of a tourist guesthouse there and found it after a short climb. There was a small house where a lady was cooking and I asked her about the guesthouse. She apparently had the key and I followed her to the guesthouse, which was another 100 meters on the upper slope of the hill. The guesthouse seemed unoccupied and had several rooms. There was this stench about the place as if it hadn’t been inhabited for some time. I was shown quite a large room, which opened into a balcony with a grand view of the mountains above. I accepted the room and thanked the lady.

This village didn’t have any restaurants or teashops but only a couple of provision shops which stocked biscuits, eggs and noodles of course. The landlady invited me for a cup of tea and I found that she had quite a kitchen. It was furnished with a gas connection, vegetables and spices.
I asked if I could fry a couple of eggs and she immediately got me a couple of eggs. I chopped some chilies and garnished it with some pepper to make myself an exciting meal of scrambled eggs. After that I would just enter the kitchen unannounced, fry some eggs or boil some noodles, eat my meal, clean up and go back to my guesthouse. This place was soon becoming more than a home to me.

Well I started for my trek across the Blue Mountains early next morning. I had been instructed by a couple of locals what route to take and I followed that for a couple of hours. There are a couple of tree houses along that track and ideal to spend a night if you are equipped with a sleeping bag. Well I started entering deeper into the forest and soon the bushes and shrubs were as tall as me. There was also a couple of treacherous stream crossings to be negotiated. I kept moving along on a solitary hiker’s path, which was the only track standing out in the depths of that forest. So I was quite sure that I had to be on the correct path. As the terrain and path started getting more difficult, the jungle became denser. For the first time I doubted if I might be lost in the forest. By now the path had become less conspicuous and at some point it terminated and I was in a thick section of thorny twigs and bushes. I took a detour to circumvent the thorny outgrowth and then tried a couple of other routes, which proved to be even worse. Soon I realized that I was lost. I looked up and realized that I was completely surrounded by trees and twigs and thorny shrubs. I relentlessly tried to look for the path, which had suddenly terminated. I tried to backtrack and get back to the point where I had taken a detour. I just couldn’t find it. Every tree looked the same and the forest looked different from different angles. After about 30 minutes of relentless toil I knew I was at the mercy of the forest.
I sat down to meditate and prayed to surrender myself to the forest. I realized that the fact that I was ‘lost’ was an illusion. I was just somewhere in the forest and I just didn’t know where I was. The word ‘lost’ only means that you are seeking something, finding someplace. I realized that I just had to “BE”. I was in the forest and that was my destination in that moment. The folly is in trying to get some place from some other place. All our lives are continually trying to get somewhere in terms of life situations. This was my chance to just ‘be’ and abandon the idea of getting somewhere. With these thoughts I opened my eyes and I started to walk towards one of the bigger trees and went around it looked the other way when I suddenly recognized the path that was eluding me all this while. That was where I had taken the detour. I thanked the forest and set off backtracking back to the village from where I had started.
The path had been there all along right there but I couldn’t see it. Even in life we seem to be seeking something, which may be right in front of us or within us, yet we fail to discover it.

I wanted to visit the Palakdil Bird Sanctuary, which was further south in the district of Saiha. All the locals informed me that there was no regular public transport to that part and that the road was ‘very bad’. Very bad was merely a word to me and I had made up my mind to get there and I was going to make it no matter what. Well I reasoned that even if the road were to be bad, what did I care, as long I was able to get there.
I was then informed that only ‘Pick Up’ 4-wheel drive vehicles were capable of enduring such a journey. One of the locals introduced me to the driver of a pick up who was making that journey to PalakDil that evening. Now these pick-ups have just a couple of seats in the front alongside the driver and the rest of it is an open truck. Huge sacks of rice, wheat, sugar and other groceries were loaded into the truck area. The idea is to make yourself comfortable on the sacks while you hold on to the side of the pickup. We started with a couple of passengers and it all looked fun and interesting until we got started. We crossed a stream and the terrain suddenly became bumpy and slushy. It was more like a track through the jungle for hiking and the vehicle was negotiating massive ditches and swampy ponds. The vehicle sometimes tilted as much as 30 degrees while maneuvering through the forest. Apart from having to hang on to dear life you also had to watch out for branches hanging from trees above; ducking and weaving to avoid them required as much skill and finesse as did continuously raising your torso as the pick up went up in the air and avoiding landing hard on your backside. By now the grocery sacks seemed as hard as rocks and your backside quite sore. Well that was just the beginning and I casually asked my fellow passenger how long it might take to reach our destination. He just looked skywards and that was all I needed to realize that the more important question was if we would be lucky enough to reach our destination in one piece.

It was nearing dusk and by the looks of it there was going to be just one stopover and that was at the next village. I had tea with biscuits and returned to the pickup. By now the pickup was far more culturally diverse and colorful. My co passengers included half a dozen sheep, a couple of goats and chicken hanging upside down all along the side of the pickup. I was also joined by more passengers - the head of the village who wanted to sit in the comfort of the cushions; and a couple with small baby. I felt that the mother and the child ought to sit at the front and suggested it to the man but he shook his head rejecting the suggestion. I asked the driver to let the family sit in the front and he shook his head. We started and it soon became obvious that the child was having a hard time adjusting to the new environment. The pickup was tossing and turning and the child was crying on top of his voice. Every moment was agony for both mother and child. I could take it no more and stopped the pickup a couple of times and requested the driver and then the occupants of the front seat. They just ignored me. After a while the driver stopped for a couple of minutes. I was quite livid I pleaded with the head of the village to give up his seat for the welfare of his own folks. I even offered the others money to forsake their comfort. They didn’t budge and the family pulled me away and suggested that there was no use fighting.
We resumed our journey and by now it was night. After another couple of hours, we noticed another pickup stranded whose wheels were embedded in a deep ditch and they were awaiting help. It took another couple of hours to rescue that pick up and eventually got going.
Back in the pickup I tried to keep up the spirits of the youngster by offering candies and sweets. He was one hell of a fighter and after a while he began to accept the tough conditions and stopped crying. The family asked me where I planned to sleep by miming and making signs. I indicated that I didn’t have a place and they again by making gestures invited me to their home for the night. I was honored and accepted their invitation.
Well it took almost 9 hours and we finally made it. It must have been at least 1AM. It was very dark and my new hosts escorted me to their home.

They offered me a bed to sleep for the night in their humble home. Next morning I thanked the family and gifted them some money and set off to Palakdil Lake.

A ride back out of Palakdil was again on one of the pick up trucks. I had to wait for a full day for one of them to go up north again. This time around the pickup was swarming with local passengers. All the usual suspects were present including the goats, sheep and chicken. I was a lot better prepared this time around with respect to variations in sitting positions. I resorted to the ‘sukhasana’ and ‘vajrasana’ yoga positions. Not only do they occupy less space but also they are also quite comfortable. Another variation was to stand right on top of the rice sacks. This way the view was more interesting, but ducking and weaving to avoid branches was trickier.

HITCHHIKING INCIDENT

We were due to reach a major town in another hour or so when the pick up stopped for dinner. It was getting quite late and I wanted to be on the late night bus out of Saiha. Now you’ll need to understand something about the pace of life here in Mizoram. Nobody worries about time and deadlines here; especially in this part of Mizoram. Dinner breaks are very leisurely as no one really wants to get anywhere at some particular time. I checked with our driver and he suggested that he would halt for at least another hour.

I didn’t want to wait and wanted to reach town as quickly as possible. I spotted a group of men in a van who were apparently starting for the town and I asked them if I could ride with them. They agreed and I hopped in. There were two men including the driver in the front and two men with me in the back seat. The men were quite burly and it was squeeze in the back seat for the three of us. We drove for some 10 minutes and reached the hilly section with some sharp hairpin bends. I thought that the driver was recklessly speeding across those curves, but I didn’t pay much attention. But I had this vague feeling of discomfort. But I thought nothing of it. We were driving through a forest and it was pitch dark; the only illumination was from the headlights of the automobile.

The men next to me who had been silent until then, started to talk and I could smell liquor on their breath. It was then that I realized that all of them were drunk and the man at the wheel had no control on the automobile. I tried to speak to the driver and suggest that he slow down but they only spoke Mizo and perhaps the best thing in that situation was to say nothing and hope that the destination would soon arrive.

But they had other plans, I guess. What was to come took me completely by surprise. The man at the wheel pulled over stopped the van by the side of the road. The men next to me suddenly pulled out two rifles. The men then held my arms and locked the rear door of the car. The man in the front switched out the headlights and got out of the van. I started to ask what the idea was but stopped myself as I became completely aware of the situation. I noticed that the window of the front seat was open. The men next to me let go of my hands and reached for their bottle of liquor. I threw myself out from the rear of the van towards the front window and made my getaway through the window. My backpack was still at the back of the van. Luckily the boot of the van was unlocked. I threw the door open, got my backpack and started to walk back in the opposite direction of the town. The men started to yell and shout but I didn’t even look back. I’m sure they didn’t mean to harm me but what the hell. What’s life without a few twists and turns? I was actually quite grateful for the situation. I had no animosity towards the men. It was not my right to label them. There are various kinds of people in this world and they just happened to be another type. Moreover I was given a situation where I was required to be fully aware and alert.

The forest was pitch dark. It was a new mood day and quite cloudy and not a star in sight. Thankfully I had my head torch handy. I also had a hand torch. I got them both out and started walking back. Now I knew that the pick up, which I had abandoned, was due to come this way. So there was really nothing to panic about. I realized that there was no point walking. The important thing was to get the attention of the driver and get him to stop the vehicle. But I had to wait at a strategic point; not around a curve or turning, but somewhere along a straight section of the road. I realized that the vehicle would be coming down the hill and I should be able to spot it beforehand.

After waiting for about 10 minutes or so, I spotted an automobile at the top of the hill. Of course it could be any vehicle but my hunch was that it was the pick up. The sound of the motor grew louder and when it came into sight turning into the hairpin bend. I recognized the pick up and stood in the middle of the road and started waving my arms. It stopped. Luckily, the driver recognized me. He was one of those who spoke a little Hindi. I briefly explained what had happened as he had seen me taking a ride in that van with the men. He asked me to hop in and was I glad to be in the pick up again. The rice sack now seemed as comfortable as cushions. I was suddenly surprised to hear a shrill voice of a girl asking, “What happened?” in English. I looked in the direction of the voice and a noticed a young woman who had been my fellow passenger all along, but I had hardly realized that she spoke English. Well she happened to be studying in Aizwal and that explained it. I narrated the whole story and she commented that it was very foolish of me. Well I have been a fool all my life so what the hell. I was actually quite thrilled about my experience and that experience was perhaps was my highlight in Mizoram.