The 4th and Final part.....
When we reached the base camp(sounds better than dharamshala), we were really dusty and need of a bath. Now I did mention how cold the water was right, so me and priyanka were reluctant, but our Mam needed no initiation. Seeing our dilemma, the guard who also doubled as the assistant chef offered to boil a bucket of water for each of us. He warned us that it was against the camp rules as we were expected to brave the cold naturally. So he asked us to hurry up before the head of camp (whom I shall call the HOC from now on. I really forgot his name, though I remember he looked a lot like amrish puri) returned. Now I was to go first. And I collected the bucket of water and was crossing the courtyard, when, as MY FATE would have it, I slipped and fell rather hard on my bum. And the bucket overturned. I was in this muddy mess and everyone had to seep into the courtyard and offer…. No, not sympathy but criticism…. of my beautiful and fancy lavender and blue slippers. They went on about how we Bombay girls (I kept telling them I was from Bangalore) with our fancy slippers didn’t know how to walk!!! Or that I should buy sturdy hawai chappals. Not one of them thought of saying ‘are beti, sambhal ke’. Damned Manalians. Anyway my bucket was refilled and I went to have a bath in a very tiny and dirty bathroom. I take a really long time to bathe. So obviously I couldn’t finish off quickly before the head of camp arrived and it wasn’t possible for priyanka to get her pail of hot water. But luckily, the HOC after piying us (especially me) offered Priyanka the use of his bathroom that had runnning hot water (he didn’t live at the dharamshala, but some swank lodge).
The next day we were all charged fresh and happy. All of us set of to a nearby sanctuary. It had really thick woods, moss covered rocks, small streams, lovely birds and animals and some pretty lil cottages here and there. The tree canopies were so dense that the sunlight barely filtered in. It was like twilight even at noon. So we walked around, saw many peacocks and other less beautiful birds. And in all this we got lost. Of course. I had to do something like thios. But it was a small sanctuary and we knew we would eventually find our way back. We were almost nearing our group when we come across a couple of blacks from some african country. They asked us something, but the accent was really ununderstandable, so they let us pass. But in pasing they said something to the effect that indian women are beautiful. And that we did understand. (Now most guys would be nodding in agreement as Priyanka did/does head their crush list).
Some of these days me and priyanka would simply walk up and down the Manali main street, getting into the emporiums and looking at the crafts – paper mache, silver filigree work, different gems and jewellery. And its here during one of these walks that I had my first softy cone. It was pale brown chocolate. I delighted in the fact that it was really so soft. But the best part was that, in Manali the ice cream would take really really long to melt. Really long.
It was the day to go back. We were leaving a couple of days early due to our reservations. The HOC came with us to the bus stop. We were in sitting in the bus and he gave us some frooti. I happily gave Priyanka mine and we waved tata. The same winding route back to delhi, the same throwing up, all the same. Back at delhi we had really long baths. Talked to the brigadiers family, told and retold the stories(one our version and one Mam’s version) and had good food. We did some more shopping. And then Mam wanted to tour delhi. Now Priyanka had seen Delhi before, so I went with Mam. We saw all the usual sites on an arranged tour, clicked snaps infront of each monument and were constantly pestered by this irritating guy, which Mam enjoyed, I didn’t.
And then It was the time to go back home. I was thrilled. We said our bye byes. The train journey was eventful because of thi sidiot form pune who wouldn’t quit smiling at us and kept trying to talk to us. Then somehow this guy leaves his address in one of novels (Cane and Abel) and asks us to call him. What a joke. Anyway it was a long wait at hubli for the connecting intercity. And at 8 am we reached home town. Priyanka’s mom was there to pick us up. My mom couldn’t come as my sister was leaving the same day in just a few hours on a twenty day trip. To Manali. And many other places.
Inspite of the illnesses and the bad food, Manali and the himalays was a great experience. We were back in one piece. I was lighter. Was an accomplished skater (Ok, I own up that's a lie). Had many more clothes and also a box full off petha…. Life couldn’t get better.
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