Saturday, June 11, 2016

Kuari Pass Trek - A Short Trail Towards Nature And Self Day One

After sleeping off the tiredness; from the previous day's 20 hour long marathon road and rail journey; I woke up expectantly at 6:00 AM in the morning.

We had to leave for Auli; the starting point of our trek; on a hired jeep/taxi. 9:00 AM bang on schedule, finally our trek took off. I had been off cigarettes for 6 months and 5 days at the time. Let me take this opportunity to be condescending to people who are still into the habit and tell them, it is not worth it! I was witnessing a conspicuous positive change in myself as a result of leaving behind a bad habit of which I had been a slave for nearly 9 years.



"Wild Flowers And Shrubs - En route Taali, Kuari Pass Trek"

The environment was tiding itself up as we progressed our trek uphill and away from civilization. The air cleaned itself up miraculously, the scenery was changing every frame from magical to stupendous, and people were getting filtered out until only I and Mohan Jee (our cook) were left; laughing out loud and chatting animatedly. The path on the trek is not marked, but easily visible and identifiable. It is an easy trek, so no tricky curves, thin narrow paths, but an easy walk into the wild.


"On the way from Chonnya To Taali (Camp 1)"

In trekking there are campsites where there is water. Basically from Auli; on route of Kuari Pass Trek there are three campsites:

#Patihaar 
#Chonnya
#Taali

At first two campsite locations, i.e. Patihaar and Chonnya there was no water. My guide/cook Mohan Jee informed me that there had been a time some three to four years ago when there had been water at these two campsites all season long, which is now becoming scarce year after year. That was when I realized the extent of effect of global warming in its stark nakedness and not a mere conceptualization in a vicarious isolation.


"About to reach Taali - Kuari Pass Trek Path On Day One"

After 4.5 - 5 hours of walking we reached our first campsite; Taali. We all pitched our tents, had tea and went on with our own chores. I went into the woods with my book, notebook and pen. I found a spot under a tree where there was sunlight. Basking under the sun I was devouring the pages of my book. Suddenly my gaze fell upon my backpack which was lying in the corner of the kitchen tent. The entire tent was in dark with the exception of this very spot where lay my backpack. The sunlight was falling upon it like a spotlight. This sight compelled me to pull out my notebook and pen. 


"Campsite at Taali - The Kitchen Tent"

Next I was writing a poem on my backpack. After a 2 - 2.5 hours of fulfilling and uninterrupted reading and writing session; with a few pleasant disturbances of chirping of birds, humming of the bees, rustling of the leaves; I finally got up. Having finished the poem which I had started and the chapter that I was reading, I was pleased with the self, and with everything else.


"Bee's Eye View From Our Kitchen Tent"

By this time my fellow trekkers; a middle aged couple; too had arrived. Amidst the lighter moments of chatting, laughter and simple joys of life we broke our bread together. The food was prepared very well and served hot. 8:00 PM we were all in our tents, tucked in, ready to sleep and ready to wake up for the next day to come.

Following is the complete poem which I wrote sitting in the woods, under that benign sunlight:

A Poem Dedicated To My Backpack:


               "Our Backpacks With Mine In The Center"

"City you cannot hold her long with your tentacular grips
Because she is a woman of mountains and wild trips.
Your lights may amuse her in the nights but she loves sleeping under stars and moonlights.

The glitter and glamour that you throw at her it catches her attention, 
but it is the vast open spaces which has always been the fuel for her imagination.

City, in this ever changing world and surroundings, your role has been to state the obvious, 
whereas her wanderlust has been to unravel the inconspicuous.

She may seem to have city belongings, 
but mountains and wild have always been in her yearnings and longings.

The oscillating conflict in her had always been between whether to run away or stay,
Weather to follow her drapetomania, or to linger and delay."

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