Three days of open time, and that nagging urge to get out, to spread my wings. My backpack had been sitting in a quiet corner all week, silent and conscious of my situation , all the while staring at the uneventful wall behind it. I could almost hear it beg to be used. To be stuffed, hoisted, lugged through sand, swamps dust and jungles. Some offers are too good to refuse, and this was one of those. I sometimes wonder whether its my backpack which gave me my traveling bug ... it has been around before it reached me, and the travelling bug is said to be contagious.
So the plan was set, and a few more lunatics with backpacks joined the gang. Seven of us on the roadtrip, but there still was a major problem yet to be resolved - where do we head out to? Despite protests from some of the more lazy people, the compass was set south, and we decided to head out to Orissa. Chilka lake to be more precise, and its vast unexplored bird and animal life; its sprawling scenic backwaters, and waterfalls in near vicinity. More about the waterfalls later.
So here's the gang - there's me , mod , the resident you-know-what hole. There's Ankit "bada sutta" Verma, calm, quiet, and with a notorious air - straight out of a mafia film, just that he's indian. Then there's Sanket "Gultra" Deshmukh, dazed, angry, amused and hysterical in equal measure, alternating between the states and random. There's Vivek "Diablo" Sharma next - he's the exact opposite of gultra behaviorally and bs (bada sutta) physically. There's Nitish "Rathi" Rathi , typical haryanvi baniya with constantly thinning hair, and dripping with thick sarcasm. Sirish "Shishu" Subramaniam, the management guru who manages to find humor in the most unexpected of places, and has a gait like that of a emperor penguin.And last but not the least, Amardeep "Amar" Gupta, with long feminine hair, and a body to match.
So we set off to Balguan, which lies on a tangent to Chilka lake. The train journey was what you can expect it to be if you travel unreserved. Three of us slipped into the sleeper coach, haggled with the TTE, and finally procured 3 berths. But wait - did i mention that there were seven of us ? The next six hours were spent constantly shifting positions, finding vacant voids for our stray limbs amongst the mess of mangled bodies, and accommodating even more illegal travelers on the floor and and in every nook and cranny large enough for a human body to fit in. The TTE made a second round later, demanding even more cash. We ran the typical drill of broke students with exams (in Balugaon !??), and managed to show him a few empty wallets before he let us off the hook. I've never met an honest TTE in my life ; it's almost as if they have an procedure that filters out only the most morally flexible for the job.
Balugaon was a small and forgotten station. Rathi, in quite typical fashion, was desperate to relieve his bowels, and after many failed attempts to locate a toilet in the immediate vicinty, took the chai-waalas sage advice and defecated on the tracks. "New experience" in his words. The seven of us stuffed into an autorickshaw meant for 5, and reached the edge of chilka just in time to catch my most gorgeous sunrise in recent memory. The sun rose gloriously from a sea of orange and pink, which gradually changed to purple and magenta, all the while flaunting its depth of shade in the rippling water originating from under fishing boats.
A boat trip from Balugaon to Satpada promised us a view of the endangered Irawady dolphins - Chilka being one of the only two saltwater lagoons in the world where the dolphins reside. What we were not informed however, was that the boatride was going to 3 hrs long , in the mid day heat. The view was spectacular to start with, and the calm vistas of the gentle water seemed to seamlessly merge with the horizon in a distance. It was supremely peaceful - until the sun came into its element. All of us tanned by a couple of shades on that single boat ride, with gultra getting a headache and losing half of his sanity at the same time. Sishu lost the other half. We saw a few dolphins on the way - spectacular and elegant creatures, non chalantly leaping out of the water a few feet from the boat, whistling and gurgling in harmony. They had a skin of the color of the muddy brackish water, and had benevolent eyes a shade darker. I had a joyous fit the instance that i saw them, which soon settled down to a calm appreciation of my first dolphin sighting.
Satpada was another little town, centred mainly about dolphin tourism, with little shops running along the road as we headed in. Our plan was to travel to the Nirmalajhar "waterfall" a few kilometers from here, as confidently indicated on the wiki page. The OTDC rest house was our respite from the road, giving me the option of testing out the local crab for lunch, which turned out the be utterly horrible. The crab shell declared war against the soft tissue in my mouth, and while everybody had a full stomach afterwards, I was left with a bloody mouth and a stomach ache.
An overenthusiastic boatsman took charge of us there after, randomly getting hold of us in the street. The poor guy looked through the group of foreign tourists right behind us, bee-lining towards our confused group. I still cannot fathom what could have prompted his indiscretion, considering that we had empty wallets and were headstrong bargainers, not to mention the presence of a baniya in our group. We were not complaining though - the guy had a boat, with a roof on it this time , and the boat was all our for the journey from Balugaon to Johnny Kuda (strange name, i know!) .
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An incredible boat journey, dozing under the summer sun while the warm surf washed against our boat, while gultra clicked away (himself) with a camera in hand on one end of the boat. Narcissism was defined after gultra was born, and his smiling skull in half of the pictures explains why.
An incredible boat journey, dozing under the summer sun while the warm surf washed against our boat, while gultra clicked away (himself) with a camera in hand on one end of the boat. Narcissism was defined after gultra was born, and his smiling skull in half of the pictures explains why.
Another hard bargain from Johnny Kuda brought us to junction (what junction? the name slips my mind), which was some highway basically. We walked up to the driver, who was chatting away as if he didn't have a bus full of irate commuters waiting for the bus to start. We looked at the driver- and then we looked at the bus. It was so thoroughly packed that people were oozing out of the bars in the windows. And then lightning flash - amar suggested that we could ride on the roof. The driver was hesitant at first - "dada, police pakdega highway par" -- one look at the bus - and all he could do was shrug his shoulders.
And then, we took off.
Gush after gush of cool wind hit us square in the torso, as the bus caught speed on the highway. The bus lethargically wound up the gentle slopes of the eastern ghats, as the temperatures noticeably dropped with the height. Off came the shirts and out came the mikes, as all of us showed off our mediocre vocals, shouting at the top of our lungs to overpower the whoosh of the wind. The people on the road below were quite bewildered , having seen such theatrics only from cattle and little children. The little children joined in the waving and singing, and before long we were at nirmalajhar.
Now this is the Nirmalajhar that I had imagined it to be - a 50 feet waterfall with cool freshwater, falling into a and pond followed by a trinkling stream with leaping salmon , surrounded by green grasslands and burstling wildlife. The driver however stopped the bus in front of a dilapidated old hindu mandir , and announced - "aa gaya". We looked at each other for a second. "Yahan se raasta kya hai ? " , enquired Verma innocently, expecting the reclusive waterfall to be buried in some deep alcove away from civilization. "Yahi hai dada", replied the driver, refusing to budge from his previously asserted predicament. We could see a square bathing pool inside the temple, but surely that couldn't be the famous waterfall. Verma, still desperately hopeful, prodded on - "Andar jaa kar hai kya kahin ? ". The driver, exasperated by the bunch of baby faced hopefuls asking dumb questions, reiterated for one final time - "YAHI HAI!!". And then he sped off.
Nirmalajhar wasn't too bad though, we had a blast bathing in the moss filled water. The little 10 feet by 10 feet pool was supposed to have an inexhaustible supply of holy water. Gultra enthused by the holy spirit, had a sudden urge to jump into the water, and everyone else followed. Holy or not, the water was soothingly cool, and a diving competition (in which i lost to rathi 9.5 to 9) capped the visit. Another trolley ride took us to the nearest railway station, where the station master told us to wait for a few hours before we could get a train to Puri. A few hours? You've got to be kidding me.
And hence the plan was made that we'd hitchhike to Kurdhan Road, and get a train from there to Puri. After a few reluctant drivers, one finally stopped to drop somebody off. Everybody had temporary amnesia, and forgetting their worn out states rushed to the truck. The truck driver, intimidated to see seven sleep deprived and drawling guys ganging up on him late at night , refused straight. However being a student in IIT prepares you to make the most absurd excuses to fit your cause (and explain your absence from class) - and suddenly one of us chimed in - "Dada, behen ki shaadi hai, baraat chhoot jayegi, please adjust!". The driver, quite possibly having attended quite a few emotional "behen ki shaadis" in his own family, melted like swiss chocolate, and let us on.
2 hours in the open roofed lorry - with nothing but the steel floor underneath, and the open sky above. Shishu, being a eerily efficient opportunistic sleeper, dozed off immediately while the rest of us were battling with textured steel penetrating our rear sides. Diablo still had his ray bans on in the pitch dark, I wonder how much of the stars he saw. Before long we were at Khurdan Road, and on a late night train to Puri. Monday morning happened on the train. And with 12 am came holi. Now shishu, gult, diablo and me were asleep when the holy hour crept one. Verma, Amar and Rathi were not. They had been waiting.
Sirish was the first one to wake up fifteen minutes later. And then gultra, followed by Diablo. And they woke up with close up (the red and sticky kind) all over their faces. Sishu wiped his face off like he does every morning - before realising that he had heavy make up on - and then looked at his sleeve. And then he looked at the faces around him ready to erupt with laughter. And then he understood.Diablo woke up, felt his face, got angry, and went back to sleep. ("Bahut neend aa rahi thhi yaar"). Gultra woke up , disoriented for the first few minutes. And then he wiped his forehead... just to grab a fistful of closeup. In one of his crazy fits, he walked up menacingly to where verma , amar and rathi were standing, their smiles slowly devolving to terrified frowns. And then came the dialogue of the close-up kand -- " (pointing at Verma and then the left door)Mein tujhe is darwaaze se phekunga, (pointing at amar and then the right door) tujhe uss darwaze se phekunga, (making cirlces in the air while pointing at rathi) aur tu, tu to gayab hi ho jayega ! " . And puri was here before we knew it.
I still don't know why they didn't smear my face, verma told me later that they thought i had woken up.
We reached Puri at 1 in the morning. We bifurcated into two parties - one headed directly to the beach, while sishu, diablo and I headed for the Jagannath temple. We were almost attacked by bulls, dogs and monkeys on our way through the deserted roads. Despite being holi(y) day, the temple was deserted , with all the devotees in deep slumber outside the temple. We asked where we could get some prasadam, and we were pointed to a cave like room - which turned out to be a bat cave. So cool. Now tell me where I can eat.
We had some great south indian prasadam, and assuming that it was for free, thanked the pundit and prepared to leave. He looked up at us - "120 rupees", he said, poker faced. We looked at each other, and sishu mouthed "lol". Well, at least we have full stomachs. And we saw the bats.
The beach was incredible, running along the knee deep surf in the moon lit night, when nobody is around, is incredible fun. We fooled around in the sand and surf till sunrise. While i got high on the view, the hypnotic drone of the waves as they lashed the shore, and the golden sand sparkling under the silver moon, Rathi, Verma and Amar stuck to the conventional methods of doing so. Morning came, and another spectacular sunrise.We headed off to Konark after that. I don't recall what happened on the way, but Rathi does.
We had a lavish breakfast at the OTDC retreat, and rented a toilet. Gultra at this point was as alert as corpse on drugs, and fell face flat into his breakfast multiple times. I had some trouble with the toilet, which i assumed to be western, and it turned out to be and indian style elevated by a couple of feet. No worries though, I figured it out before it was too late.
The sun temple was exquisite. The sandstone sculptures were masterful. And the themes were well ... different. Unabashed and elegant displays of raw human passion, bodies intertwined in hungry longing, as souls united to become one - it was almost lyrical. Gultra became obsessed with a particularly unfeasible position, which i'm sure he'll try out with his next female partner, if he can manage to find a gymnast girlfriend.
Back to Puri after barging our way through many road blocks ("Bura mat maano, holi hai!!!"), we took a train back to Kgp. Got proper sleeper tickets this time. We had some female company from Bhubaneshwar in our compartment, but we discovered that the instinct to sleep is far more overbearing than that for the propagation of the race, and hence the next five hours saw us collectively lowering the centre of mass of the coach - fast asleep.
And then Kharagpur arrived. Back to the real world. My backpack is at peace now. But not for long. It never is.
