College Trip: The Joys of The Uncertainty Principle
Heavy breathing, beads of sweat dripping from my temple, hands gripping the moss-covered boulder as I pulled up myself, stepping carefully on the weakened bamboos creaking under my feet. As I stood atop the summit gripping tightly on the worn-out fence, my senses were overwhelmed by the scene underneath. The gleaming blue elixir coursing through the rocky creek surrounded by towering rock-giants and lush green pillars were ameliorating my fatigue. “Hey, we are here !!!”, shrieked Rathore, and I was back out of my immersion. The entire group was here, patting each other’s back for conquering Mawryngkhang. Sitting down, munching on some crackers we rambled and joked.
I did not realize when fatigue dosed my eyes, and I began reminiscing about how just three days back I was trying my level best to avoid this trip. Everything is scary when you are not in control or better not in the illusion of being in control. Family trips are different, as you seldom leave your comfort zone. Coming from that disposition, the statement “Steering jidhar ghoomega gaadi udhar lenge” (Translation: We will drive in the direction in which the steering naturally turned) was undoubtedly a big jump. Cooped up in the blue berths of Sariyaghat express cursing myself, I sat there gazing out the windows into the vast emptiness of grasslands. Even the littered flowers looked unglamorous and unvaried. The past eighteen hours on board had been a bittersweet one, fun ghost stories at night soon turned into actual horror after realizing that we somehow had to fit together two persons on one berth like a jigsaw puzzle. Being booked under RAC was certainly a nuisance.
Guwahati greeted us with gloomy skies and random drizzles, not too much but annoying enough to be an inconvenience. Splitting into groups we picked up the two hulking self-drive SUV’s. Crawling through the traffic, we finally reached the outskirts of the city; which once seemed impossible was now over. Soon we were cruising through NH40, with Divine and Amit Trivedi tearing through the speakers. Moving towards our first destination Shnongpdeng, we ended up taking a quick detour for the Umiam Lake. It was a vast reservoir nestled in the hills outside Shillong. The beautiful waters showed a delicate juxtaposition of glimmer and shade.
Although distracted my mind frequented to the uncertainties that it was still facing, the chief being that we had not booked a night stay till that point. Travelling without having an exact itinerary was unquestionably taking a toll on me. We were in a land where dusks fell quick and nights even quicker. Navigating tight hairpin bends, squinting his eyes through the dust bathed windshields Rahul was frantically shifting gears as in an attempt to keep the beast at bay. The music was almost drowned by the sounds of pebbles and bricks crushing under the wheels.
The campsite was a stony river bank besieged both sides by tall mountains. A narrow metallic bridge hung desperately on the two ends arching above our heads like a link between dimensions. The place had an enchanting appeal to it; the silence, the lack of candescent light sources was soothing to the senses.
The dark curtains were raised and light from the campfire tore through, giving a warm glow onto our faces. Histories started unravelling, not about the great ones who had lived and died but about the little ones who remained; tales from childhood, tales about relationships, tales about us. As the woods reduced to ashes, the cold winds took over, we all snuggled back into the tents. Lying inside, we thought of pulling a prank on one of our unsuspecting friends, but exhaustion coaxed the body into a deep slumber. It turned out in the morning that the person had already heard the plan; hence he was anxious the whole night for his “Jokes on you” moment. The entire next morning was spent on water activities. Rathore eased me into the Kayak as I desperately tried to grasp the left is right and right is left the concept of rowing. The cold water dazzled in the afternoon sun as we rowed through it finally getting the sync. Reaching a cliff which stuck out the side of a mountain like a sore thumb, we got off for the next activity — Cliff Jumping. Ashwin and me being the chief cameraman for the crew were given the special pardon from this activity, phew. Seeing through the lens, the stylized jumps of various people, for some time a part of me wanted to climb over and cannonball into the river. However, that part was slowly defeated, and my eyes wandered around like a curtain of butterflies trying to find a resting spot in the scenery.
After the entire day of flailing in the river, people were dying to get back on the land. Drying ourselves near our cars and grabbing a bunch of supplies we revved off towards…towards…well, we didn’t know. The vehicle finally halted near the Krang Suri Waterfalls. After a thirty-minute trek down, we saw it in all it’s glory. The water was of a beautiful light blue shade, falling with such force in two separate streams, creating a mist below. It was the golden hour, we all knew what this meant, time to pester Ashwin for a kickass DP; and, man he did not disappoint.
Our group had five drivers, someone had the genius idea of teaching the rest of the group how to drive. The parking was a vast grassland hence, was perfect for this. Rahul, Indu and Ashwin took the role of instructors and threw Siddhant and me behind the wheel. Getting back behind the wheel after five years, in a word exhilarating. Although it bothered me from time to time that we didn’t have an itinerary; but at the same time, some part of my mind was coming to terms with the fact that the felicity it was experiencing was because of that. The car sailed through the breathtaking sunset into the quiet town of Dawki. The place was witnessing a curfew, we saw crosses on doors, although people were outside, it was eerily quiet. The light creeping through the window of a lone shop and a narrow flickering street light was all the illumination the town square had. We managed to find a humble meal at a semi-open mess, parked the cars near a house and walked towards the campsite which was booked on the spot. The entire place had a foreboding exterior, and this added to my anxiety, reinforcing my beliefs that it was a mistake coming here. I was extremely cranky, and probably at my worst behaviour; all the survival instincts were kicking in at once. “Take a deep breath and follow your friends, Take a deep breath and follow your friends” chanting in my head. Getting down the ghat, we all sat in boats which were going to take us to the island-like campsite. Pitch blackness, the nervous shaking of the boats and the flopping of the oars on the still waters; the sheer absence of stimulus assaulted my senses. When you don’t have a tangible element to fear the brain becomes anxious, as it hates “uncertainty”. Amazingly something funny happened, there were loud noises blaring from a small speaker in another boat, which almost broke the tension. I chuckled at the circumstances of the music.
The entire island was covered with smooth pebbles shaped by the water. Slight vegetation and some sheds covered the otherwise mostly barren surroundings. The river tore its way through one side of it giving the island the look of a peninsula. As everyone settled down, the next obvious step was maggie. Placing the pot on the makeshift stove, adding water from the stream we cooked the two-minute noodles in forty-five minutes.
Being a bit of a germaphobe, I abstained from eating that even after repeated persuasions. Gazing up, we tried for some time to identify constellations, but the weather was not on our side. Het had just finished off telling the tale of the “Schizophrenic Boy who got possessed” which knocked out socks off. As I was quite tired, I lied down for some time in my tent but was at full earshot distance from the campsite and unfortunately was able to hear Indu and his tales of urban legends like Ouija Boards and Planchette. The already eerie atmosphere added to the dread, but soon, weariness took over fear, and I drifted off. With morning came a lot of changes, the dark and foreboding campsite looked so organic, like an oasis in between the city. The boats were back for us…
Morning also revealed more secrets like the India-Bangladesh border, which we had overlooked entirely that night was just by the ghats. We quickly fixed our stuff and drove by towards either Cherrapunji or Shillong. This drive was going to be one of the most memorable of the six hundred kilometres, which we all had travelled.
Wheels chased the blue sky on the roads that tore through the hills as if telling us subliminally, now it is your time to let go.
After the exhilarating ride, the cars finally halted under the sign-board that said Mawryngkhang. After devouring five pineapples and stocking up on water bottles, we started our descent. Yep, unlike only going up, in this; one needs to go down on like a natural staircase to reach a creek which was also a makeshift stone-quarry. I shuddered, thinking that for someone this flight of stairs was their daily life. As the old saying goes “a group is only as strong as its weakest link”, and I did not want to be that weak link. The group trotted along, sometimes in total silence where the only audible sounds being that of chirping birds, crushing leaves and creaking bamboos. After some time, I felt a sudden change in my disposition, my mind was no longer fixating on the duration but instead on the current goal. Reaching that red flag. Emptying my mind, I walked. I walked over the bamboos bridges, stepped on dangling ledges and also hunched under the enormous boulders but did not break down. Walking by the ledge, I felt a sudden tug on my shoulder, that tug brought me back to the mountain top as I saw Het shaking me telling it was time to go. Slowly and steadily, we all came back to the river creek, the group also decided to rest for some time. All of us rushed to get our spot on the sun-baked rocks, fumbled to remove our shoes and hurriedly dipped our feet into the icy water flowing below. This had a better feel than any five-star spa could ever provide.
Climbing up to the start point exhaustion was insurmountable, and the final stages felt like crawling out of a Tartarus. Back in the car, we gulped the remaining water and collapsed on the seats. Getting to the nearby hotel shack, everyone pounced over ten more pineapples. Closed doors packed stuff and drove towards Shillong. Similar to Schrodinger’s experiment, the act of going to the destination made the uncertainty collapse upon itself. When the time comes for the decision to affect reality, the reality will decide its outcome. Convoluting I know.
We passed the Indian Airforce Station, various tee-gardens and also stopped for a brief moment at the Elephant falls. Although mostly lacklustre the place gave lots of funny photo opportunities and we even managed to execute the titular Mannequin Challenge. Everbody also childishly played in the park taking turns at the meri-go-round like children.
Our fast gallop got reduced into a rusty trot as the vehicles ambled into Shillong. We were welcomed by a barrage of traffic; nearly four-lanes worths of it on one narrow road. We got ourselves booked into a decent hotel and went out to take a look into the city. After two days of campings and a trek, the body to say was running on fumes of maggie and chips. Shillong was going through its fair share of turmoil, there police jeeps and barricades covering certain roads, people walking in groups. Although things were quiet and the curfew was lifted off a few days back, but the streets still showed few signs of things that might have taken place earlier. We reached the main road looking for a restaurant and finally optimized our way into a decent multicuisine shop. If there ever were a manifestation of the saying “Having your cake and eating it too”, it would be that moment when we jumped on the food that night. Probably none of us remembers what we had, none of us cared, but it was heavenly. The return journey back to the hotel was a bit scary. If you remember how streets looked in old eighties movies and detective tv-shows; desolate and dimly lit with old tungsten lighting; the streets of Shillong gave a similar feel. Huddling in groups, we quickly returned back into our allotted rooms. For the next day, the plans were a bit concrete; it was The Root-Bridge Trek, so we had to leave Shillong by eight in the morning to avoid the traffic; hence the logical step was to sleep early. So instead of doing that we partied till one in the night, music arranged through the small speaker of one phone. It didn’t matter, through that small speaker we had soo much fun that the manager had to come twice requesting us to be quiet. Even my mental faculties which were usually on stress kicked back as we played Dumb-charades, although people were mostly sleepwalking by the end. The day ended with a final warning from the manager.
Curled up on the bed, trying desperately to cut the cold mornings with a thin bedsheet, sun rays peaked through my half-open eyelids. The time was seven o clock, so now imagine a fast montage of people getting ready set to “Eye of the Tiger”. The unglamorous part about rapid montages is that it’s not actually fast. The engines revved back to life finally at ten. Just out of the hotel we found the worst traffic jam imaginable. Ashwin, Rahul and Poojan came out commandeering the surrounding traffic with traffic-cop level dexterity, and slowly and slowly we moved out. The last leg of the journey officially began as we headed towards Cherrapunji. The vehicle made its final major sightseeing stop at Double Decker Living Root Bridge trek. Some carpool karaoke combined with one of the twistiest roads yet certainly felt like a rollercoaster with stereo.
We reached the starting point of the trek at nearly two in the afternoon, to keep into perspective how late it was, on our way down, we would be seeing people returning. The trek had a flight of fifteen hundred stairs one way, down, then depending upon which part you wanted to visit more walking was needed.
The area had three root-bridges in total and a waterfall named Rainbow Falls. While walking, we split into two parts. Me, Het and Rathore who visited the longer bridge first, did some whacky poses on it.
Next step was figuring out the way to the double-decker bridge in which we struggled gravely. Trek tips: always ask someone the direction before going in that path, we ended up reaching two different dead ends. We regrouped and split again, quickly which even caused a tiny tiff. My paranoid brain began to kick in as the sun was starting to set, there was a manic calculation spree going on about the time to reach Cherrapunji, vs time to sundown, vs time left on my phone’s battery. Finally, we started moving back towards the starting point, but it was an upward climb, and we were dead tired. The fact that we also did a trek yesterday was not at all helping. Like twisted ancient statues, our backs hunched as we slowly dragged our bodies up the flight. Thiry at a time, break thirty at a time.
By hook or crook, we had to reach Cherrapunji latest by nine as the curfew that took place in Shillong and Dawki had originated here. It was nearly half-past seven in the evening but, the town looked as if it had a separate clock of its own. Roads were pitch black, street lights were scarce, and the only other source of illumination was the lights from scattered houses. Searching for a homestay, we decided to stop and discuss. Just as I stepped outside the vehicle, the cold winds dug its fangs in my whole body, and I felt a sudden jolt of shiver down the entirety of my spine. But the scene I saw after that, was worth it. Devoid of clouds and mist the stars twinkled in their full beauty. Till that time, there was a little sadness of not being able to see a starry night. But the next thing we saw was even more enchanting, atop the small hill, a pale white ball rose in all its glory from behind a tower of shadows. A Moonrise.
Soon we heard the blaring speaker of a petrol car announcing the curfew for the night, and we quickly booked ourselves into a homestay. Antaakshari, Maggie, Pranks and some tiny tales. Ten people crammed in two beds destroying lyrics of popular songs; we laughed our butts off at the stupidest of things. Back on campus some weeks back, I had had an argument with Indu and Poojan about the mode of transportation as to what difference did it make even if I travelled separately and came to Guwahati in a flight, as in the end, I was gonna reach the same spot. That day it dawned that it was never about the trip, it was about this, the spirit of togetherness. The final night of the trip when it all came together literally and figuratively.
Light changes perspective, always.
We packed our suitcases one final time. Before leaving for Guwahati, we decided to visit two more waterfalls and a cave. All three of them the Elephant Falls, the Kynrem Falls and the Arwah-Lumsina Cave were beautiful in their own right. Some more short treks were involved; both over and under the land.
But the best scene had to be the one small reservoir which we found on the side of the road, by accident. A clean body of water which glimmered in the daylight; we were getting late, but I didn’t care, probably none of us did at that point. We saw Ashwin transform into Emmanuel Lubezki commanding every position conceptualizing the frame, Rathore ready on spot with the shutter and we all desperately trying to hold our poses. It took over forty-five minutes to finally capture this, but the effort was worth it.
Ashwin grabbed his position between Indu and me, Rathore clicked the timer, ten seconds, “Bhaag!!!” (Translation: Run) we screamed in unison. As Rathore took his final step turning towards Siddhant stepping through the water the shutter clicked resulting in this photo-finish.
We started the return journey. As the vehicle moved, it went past the meadows, past the rivers, past the tall mountains and even I passed my old mindset. I distinctly remembered the turn we took for Umiam lake. In my imagination, I could see the ghost of my past turning towards it and all I wanted to say is what all of my close friends before told me uncountably many times.
“This experience will be something that you will remember forever”
Pighle neelam sa behta hua ye sama
Neeli-Neeli si khamoshiyaan
Na kahin hai zameen, na kahin Aasmaan
Sarsarati hui tehniyaan, pattiyaan
Keh raheen hai ki bas ek tum ho yahaan
Sirf main hoon
Meri saansein hain aur meri dhadkanein
Aisi gehraiyaan, aisi tanhaiyaan
Aur main sirf main
Apne hone par mujhko yaqeen aa gaya
- Javed Akhtar
The Group:
