Mussorie - Nainital

M for Mussorie
As i mentioned in Up!!, Mussorie was our favorite summer destination. When the temperature became unbearable in Delhi, all you had to do was whine in front of Papa about the heat and a trip to Mussorie was guaranteed. This may sound like Mussorie was our summer capital, that we had umpteen trips to this hill town, but thats not the case. Our trips to M can be counted on fingers, they werent too many. Just that in childhood, if you revisit a place too often then you think that you own it. And for a forgetful person like me, if i can recall a lane or a landmark in a city, it means i have been there enough times. Additionally, in those days not many middle class families ventured out so much to non-home towns. Summers were rather spent with relatives and cousins.

However much i have boasted about the frequent visits to M, i must confess that i have very little memory left of M. Though there are 2-3 peculiar things i remember, because they were...peculiar. For instance, i remember that i do not use to feel uneasy on these long hours trips like i do now. Can be attributed to the fact that i was very young, me and sister could sleep in the back seat of our fiat car, all stretched out; and we didnt had to bother about driving etc. We enjoyed the terrains, we gleamed at the sight of monkeys, we asked the most irritating question ever - kab pahunchenge papa?? We collected moss from the rocks, we were told it was good for our money plant, we collected dried pine fruit, and after collecting one too many, promised our mum that they all will form part of our some handicraft project (obviously, we threw them after we grew old when we realised they were still lying in our cupboards - mums are so right). We invented games on the road, like collecting points on a particularly colored car and seeing who won at the end of an hour. Red yours, white mine. (in those days there werent too many colors on cars anyway).

Another memory is of getting foto clicked in traditional attire. You know those fotographers who coax you in getting just one foto for memory sake. And this attire is as heavy as its accompanying jewellry. And in velvet green, velvet blue, velvet red!!! My sister used to detest it completely, i used to love it. Now, that i have grown up, i realise why she hated it so much. These guys are still good in business, huh. And how!! Once it must have been so hot in Delhi, that almost everyone headed towards M to take a break. So many cars caused traffic jams in M, haha!! And then the petrol pumps ran out of petrol. Clearly, they were not prepared for this sudden attack on their resources. And to our shock and amazement we could spot our neighbours, uncles and aunts, in this queue whom we thought we had left in the heat.

Taal-talk
A trip to Nainital was offered to all who landed themselves in 9th grade in BVB. There was an optional "trekking and mountaineering" course, which couldnt be fitted in Aravalis in Delhi. Some deal was made with some ashram cum mountaineering centre in Nainital, for the "pupils to learn discipline through yoga and trekking!". Everyone loved it, and why not. What could be more sensational than spending 10 unsupervised days with your classmates at the dawn of teenage!! A group of about 40 students, along with some "friendly" teachers headed to Nainital.

The ashram guidelines given to us were no cakewalk. Rules and more rules for even odd jobs like bathing or eating. The first jolt of shock came when the bus carrying us stopped atleast 2 kms ahead of the ashram. It was a steep road up to the ashram. We were school kids, still used to our parents carrying our bags. And here, we were expected to carry our luggage to the ashram - drag, carry or drop. The amount of khoon (literally) and paseena that went into this humongous task made the other tasks look petty. Getting up really early, doing unneccessary yoga, cleaning your dishes, eating bhindi- tamatar (yuck), sleeping at 9!! And not to forget the real purpose - the mountaineering training. Utterly dangerous! But we did it all. Climbing, repelling, river crossing - i had a 7inches long gash on my neck because of the rope one tied to oneself while repelling. Took ages to go, and so did the suntan + grime.

And oh, the lake!! The lake visit is a historical event in my life. It was a day of great revelation. On that day, i awakened to the fact that i have hydrophobia. I cant bear the sight of large volumes of water, with no foreseeable end. Explained my fear for learning swimming, and boat rides. Along with me, another boy did not go for the customary boat ride - no phobia, his mother had made him promise he wont do it!!! Filmy, huh!