The Road Less Taken

It was the summer of 1993. My husband was a young engineering officer serving the Indian Air Force. Married for two years, we were posted at a premier fighter base in Haryana. While wanderlust was inherently wired into my Bengali DNA, my pre-marriage civilian travels always mandated major preparations, both physical and cerebral. Life in the armed forces changed all that. Sudden movements, last moment leave cancellation, unplanned trips – they became my new normal. Carpe diem was our buzzword – seize the moment and make the most out of it!

During an extended April weekend, we planned a one-day trip to Kasauli in Himachal Pradesh. Located about 2.5 hrs away from our base, this cantonment town with its misty mountains and charming, colonial-era vibes, seemed the perfect destination for us to unwind. We packed the bare essentials required for a day, with one light jacket each, merely as a precaution. Strapping two backpacks onto our loyal Yezdi 350 cc motorbike, we set off for our much-awaited getaway.

Once we crossed Zirakpur, the elevation started. The fresh cool winds caressing our faces and the surrounding greenery were like a soothing balm to the city slickers in us. At the last leg, we stopped for tea at a roadside shack near Solan. Sipping on our ginger tea, we were casually observing the other visitors there – mainly bus passengers returning from Shimla. Something stirred in both of us, almost at the same moment. We asked the driver about the route to Shimla and the weather conditions prevailing there (these were pre-Google days, mind you). We received favourable feedback for both. 

Our teashop was at a crossroad, literally and otherwise. A short bifurcation to the left would take us to our pre-decided destination of Kasauli. A longer journey straight ahead would land us in Shimla, the mecca of Himachal. Common sense told us to follow our planned trajectory. The headiness of youth egged us on to dive into the unknown. Talk of Hamletian dilemmas! On an impulse, we both opted for the latter. What’s life without a dash of thrill and adventure, we told ourselves, to justify our foolhardy decision.

Our first step after recalibrating our plan was to take stock of the cash we were carrying. Shimla was an expensive tourist city and we would have to extend our holiday by two more days. Which meant steeper hotel and food bills. My husband made the prudent decision of re-fuelling our bike to capacity – amidst the mounting uncertainties, we needed our steed to be in complete readiness! The rest of our funds had to be managed austerely to last the trip (again, pre-ATM days). Thus, armed with limited cash and unlimited euphoria, off we vroomed along the precipitous Himalayan circuit! 

Navigating the multiple hairpin bends with rugged slopes on the left and sheer gorges on the right, did give us some jaw-drop moments. The brakes needed our single-minded focus and meticulous manoeuvring, but all the effort was more than compensated by the mesmerising mountain views that greeted us at every step. We checked into a moderately priced but well-maintained hotel. The dipping mercury caught us by surprise, and the hotel blankets proved to be a saviour. 

Over the next two days, we visited all the tourist attractions in and around Shimla. It was an exhilarating experience which left us craving for more. Apart from our bike, we rode horses and sat atop yaks, too. The entry fee at the Kufri zoo was a luxury we could ill afford. Instead, we clambered onto some large boulders outside the zoo periphery and got a sneak peek of the large Himalayan bears inside. Our meals were a judicious mix of the lavish and the frugal. Breakfast was basic but filling. For lunch we would visit an upscale dining address and eat like a king. Dinner, again, was simple and light, both on the stomach and on our pocket. We retired to bed early at night to avoid feeling hungry again.

Three days passed in a jiffy. As our whirlwind tour came to a close, the weather turned stormy. The sky was a deep, ominous shade of grey, threatening to open up any moment. We needed to reach the plains before the downpour started. On our way back, we found ourselves sandwiched between heavily loaded trucks on all sides. Most of them carried piles of logs or iron rods used for construction. After a long sluggish ride, we managed to weave our way through them and reach clear ground. This gave us a chance to speed precariously downhill, racing against the clouds, with pounding hearts and a prayer on our lips. Only when we approached our cantonment did the weather clear up. Before reaching home, we stopped at the neighbourhood ice-cream parlour and blew up the last twenty rupees we had on two chocolate cones.  

The past three decades have blessed us with technological ease and greater affordability – shoestring budgets have become a thing of the past. Life today, is so much more easy, settled and stable. The Internet rules the roost and every convenience is just a click away. But our heart still yearns wistfully for those happy, spur-of-the-moment experiences of our youth and a serendipitous journey when choices were a luxury, and when less was so much more! 

Photo by Urmi Chakravorty