Solitude

Solitude
The word has isolation, loneliness, privacy, seclusion as its synonyms.
Which of these applies to me …. Well I donot know at the moment.
For some moments spent in its company could be good , in fact it is good for those caught in the amidst the clamor of routine life. But then this word has, with the second synonym more precisely defining it, has become a close companion of many a seemingly happy go lucky souls. Welcome to Mumbai!!

Weird way to start a blog considering the events I am about to unfold in it.
But I had no other option for I had become tired explaining to every other person that I am actually going on a trip to this place called Kolad, with people I have not even met or seen before( and that we are from the same company is the only thing common amongst us).

When I first saw the mail for this trip, I knew I had to be there. How could I resist the temptation of canoeing , kayaking, night trekking, camping, bon fire etc etc etc they had mentioned in that mail, trekking being my religion, next only to dancing.

But the fact that caught my attention was Holi celebration in the wilderness. Honestly put, I was hoping to escape from the inevitable feeling of loneliness during the festival. Hey but what is wrong in it? Every person has a duty towards himself, of keeping him/herself joyful and in high spirits.

It was almost 1 am at night, but our talk just didn’t seem to finish as we allowed ourselves to be carried away in our thoughts to our college days.
Finally Pooja realized it was time to come back to the present “Hey do you not have to go to the trip tomorrow, what are we doing, go to sleep you’ve to wake up at 4.”
“But I still haven’t taken a bath, and even packing is left”, the reality struck me.
Hurriedly I washed my hair, and packed. Well actually Pooja packed it for me, as I sat there lost amongst the list of things I should carry.

With due regards to my alarm, I woke up at 4 30 and by 5 I was on the road with not a single auto in sight. Still I managed to be the first person to get to the office from where the bus was supposed to leave. After the head count, we started off, an hour late. I spent most of my time sleeping on our way to the camp.

We reached the river bank at around 10 30, and then crossed it to the other side by a boat in three sets, to reach our camp. It was love at first sight. We were shown our cottages, huts and tents ( for the lucky ones). After unpacking and freshening up
the group collected at the dining area. After a brief introduction about the place, its significance, and its beauty, it was time to get ourselves introduced to each other.
Oh no, I muttered to myself, “how I hate this deliberate attempt of making people know each other ”
The activity aimed at achieving this was nature journalism, wherein every person was given a sheet containing 42 questions to be asked eg, which person was born in village, who has seen an endangered species, or planted a tree etc. Every one was supposed to ask these questions to others and get a name against each question. The catch : names should not be repeated.
This done, then each person had to call out the name of the person who he felt has done or seen something unusual.
I was called by Manjul, for describing to the group how I saved a pigeon.
It was well received. And I called up Yogesh, for he had seen an elephant in the wild. This continued and by the end of the game we had certainly known faces, if not the names. As for me, I had come around to develop a certain respect for such games.

An elaborate lunch followed, and was devoured by all the hungry souls in no time. “Eeeeeeeeee , mummmmma…” Kanti screamed, being troubled and scared by the ducks circling her in the hope of having a bite or two.
Then we changed, formed two groups; one group went for river crossing and the other for kayaking.

For river crossing, we went a little upstream, where the flow was considerable. While they arranged for the activity, we played around in water, slowly letting go of the inhibitions holding us, and finally “SPLASH”…….
All this didn’t apply to Shameem for whom this was the first word.
As the first group, made their way to the other side of the bank, with only a rope to hold on too, loosing balance, slipping, we on the rocks wondered “Is it really so difficult, or are these people having fun out in the river?”. We didn’t believe them when they said how difficult it was to hold on to the slimy ground, against the rough waters.
But the second groups experience left us with no doubt. Kanti was a frightened soul much before the activity had begun, and by the time she crossed (actually pulled by life guards, along with Supriya, just in time, before they could be carried away by the river) she already seemed to be in coma, “Kya hua Kanti , kuch to bol…”
The sense of relief was written largely over her face. “I am never going to do it again…!!”.
Shameem, Amol and Mahesh had already planned to go again with me in the third round. But they weren’t allowed. ‘Koi baat nahin, kayaking ke baad phir se karenge…
’ Pakka.. I reaffirmed.

Who knows swimming? Enquired the person incharge… God knows what descended on me I said yes and was made the leader of the third group for river crossing.. ‘go on PL, we are with you, we’ll make it ….’. shouted my team members from behind, as I tried to gain hold on the river base, feeling the terrain below and informing the people behind about it.

Just before coming Amol had briefed me as to how to go about in there.
Richa and me were able to cross to the other without slipping once. And we just couldn’t stop from congratulating each other and ourselves over it again and again, pitying the guys who just couldn’t balance themselves.

On our way back the scenario was different. We just weren’t able to balance ourselves, first richa then I slipped. I didn’t let go of the rope, while I was happily floating in the water. Twice the life guards had to help me get on my feet again.
Ah even that was an experience. Looking back I wonder, what is the fun if you do not slip !!

Now was the time for kayaking. Sun had already begun to lower in to the river. I had to wait for sometime, for my turn to come. And while we waited, we learnt how to use the oar and how to enter and come out of kayak “ Hold the oar, Then put your left leg in it, now lower yourself completely in to the kayak and finally pull your right leg in, make sure you do not leave the oar”.

For kayaking , first we had to sit in the front and learn the basics. In the next turn, we were supposed to teach other person the same.
But Mahesh, whom I had to teach was already a pro in it.
Mahesh : how would you like this .
Me : I wanna go as fast as possible.
Mahesh “come on then full speed”.
Me : Yeah sure……
Mahesh : Lets go till those rocks.

I put in all the energy I was left with after river crossing, rowing as hard as possible, trying to match his energy level, which was over the top.
But our kayak had something else in his mind…. No matter how much technique and effort we put in, it used to turn after sometime.
Mahesh : what is this man??
Me : I know not fair.
Mahesh : One last try.
Me : Ya, we’ll do it this time.

It took some time to realize that today was just not our day for kayaking, and we came back.
Mahesh : Chal, lets go for river crossing , one more time.
Me ( with strained shoulders ): Yup, lets go.
Me (sub conscious) : have you gone mad, where is the energy left, chal… come back….
Ok go, but do not do that.

Shameem : Hey Aditi, come, just in time. We’ll do it the best way this time.
Me : I wonder, I’ll be able to do it. I seem to have run out of energy, my hands are aching.
Shameem, Namrata : Oh ho, don’t worry we’ll do it slowly.

After some pleading the guards allowed us to go one more time.
Shameen infused us with the spirit : listen guys, nobody will slip, we are the best.
Yo we are the best: we shouted.
We did prove to be the best, nobody slipped.
Still the common complain seemed to be “what man, this was so simple, no fun, didn’t even get wet nicely, probably we knew the terrain and the techniques this time, aah boring!!”

Quickly we went back, and changed for the “silent night trail”. This doesn’t applied to the rest of the girls, who rather appeared after half an hour. But the trail had already begun.The start seemed clichéd, or rather filmy. Walking beside the river, in the night bathing in moonlight, (torches were to be used only in case of emergencies) we could listen to our footsteps.
The silence was interrupted only by the voice of nocturnal birds. Even the river seemed to have slept.
As we went ahead we entered the fields, walking on the narrow paths in between the fields, lush green paddy on both sides, I had already made up my mind to term it as my life’s best moment. But just then we came across railway tracks. Somebody please pinch me, “am I really going to walk on these tracks?”
Everyone was trying to soak in as much as in the atmosphere possible capturing moments on the way. Suddenly someone shouted “Hey look” Even before I could react I was pulled aside rather strongly. And then I realized, had it not been for that person whom I could not recognize due to night, I would have banged straight on the concrete pole near the tracks.

By now almost everyone had found/discovered “solitude” in their own terms. With silence as companion, we followed our guide, on those tracks. “Everybody get down, A fast train is coming this from behind” the guide shouted. Train!!! Oh this has to be a dream………..
The trail took us from the tracks to the farms and from there to the riverside again but only after making our way amidst the woods. We halted at the rocks near the river. I sat for some time near the river with my eyes closed, A fire was lit. On it was cooked some traditional dish of the local farmers. While it cooked, we chatted. Mahesh started off by asking about my job, and by the end of it every one in our chat group knew how I manage my life in Mumbai, not being from this place.

Then the traditional food was served at the centre of each group. The taste, was simply out of the world and we ended up eating beyond our expectations ( not limitations). During the chat I came to know that Yogesh and Mahesh were members of the Tata sailing club, and we planned without any commitment of going for it some day.

Back to the camp, we had dinner. Trekking, being the most obvious topic of discussion. This time I just listened, as people told about their amazing experiences.
Dinner over, everyone but few went back to sleep. I decided to spend a little time reading under the sky, as it was still some time before all lights were put off.

Sleeping was an experience in itself as after a long long time I was sleeping in the open verandah on mattresses, inside mosquito nets. I went to sleep at 12, at peace with myself and my decision to give Kolad a chance.
I got up at finally at 6 25 next morning to the sound of birds and the river flowing nearby. Everyone else in the cottage was ready by then. In five minutes I too was ready for the day. As I reached the dining area, people who had registered for river rafting were leaving. Being the earliest, I was given the task of waking up the rest of the people going for trekking.

The morning activity for trekkers was simple, stroll about in the area, go wherever you feel like, find a spot which you feel is ideal for yourself, spend some time there and simultaneously fill in the answer sheet ( filling it up wasn’t compulsory though).
The sheet had interesting questions eg. Write the name of the coldest and the warmest, the driest and the wettest thing you found, write about the different smells and sounds you experienced while sauntering.
And finally take any one word which describes your place perfectly and write a poem with each line starting from its letter.

The moment the activity was described I knew where I had to go. Immediately, I set off towards that place. On the way I just allowed myself to be one with the nature, soaking myself completely in the sunshine ( without worrying about getting tanned).
Everthing seemed to welcome me, as if I had returned home after a very long time.
The same place seemed different in the morning. Standing on the tracks, I stretched my vision as far as possible to gather as much splendor as possible.

I didn’t have to think of the word, it came instantly and soon the atmosphere brought out the poet in me.

Sitting on the tracks I wonder
Oblivious of the world I left behind
Life holds in itself
Inexplicable wonders, each its own kind
The rising sun beckons
Unfolding the mystery that surrounds
Dressed and drowned in serenity
Enter this life sans bounds

Then I came back reluctantly. After breakfast, we were told about the second part of the activity. Pairs were formed and we were supposed to show each other the place we had found.
I took Megha to my place, and by the time I explained to her my reason for choosing this place, and showed her my poem she was bewildered “Isn’t there something strange or different about you? ”
What? I enquired incredously.
“No its just that you chose the most unexpected of the place, the railway tracks. You chose the most weird trees of all, the one which is left with only one branch of green leaves, and even yesterday night you were sitting all alone by yourself near the river just before the bonfire. But then I must say its been a pleasure meeting you. I am never going to forget you”

I couldn’t help wondering aloud “Oh god!! people observe so much! Well it’s just that I wanted to be with myself yesterday, just wanted to feel the silence of the flowing river. Moreover I was meditating. ”
We smiled, for there was nothing more that could be explained.
Then she showed me her place near the river “Sorry yaar I didn’t take the trouble of going very far, so I just settled for this place”.
No probs… I responded.

Next activity was trekking. We reached a village, at the base of the hill by bus. There we were joined by our guide and one of the most enthusiastic nature lover. He lead the way through the jungle, showing us some of the most amazing trees, shrubs birds and insects. But the ones that caught everyones attention were the Ghost Tree ( which according to him if you try to cut, and if even a bit of its juice gets into your eyes, then no doctor in the world will be able to cure you) and the tunnel spider ( which makes its web on the ground itself like a tunnel and drags the insect inside).

Our final halt was at the base of a water fall. Shameem and I tried to persuade the guide for around fifteen minutes to allow us to trek further on the difficult stretch of mountain, but he didn’t budge from his stand that “if you two go, others will follow, and they may not be good at trekking.”

I ambled for sometime not happy with the guide’s decision. I was about to spoil my mood when I touched the water of that fall. Every trace of regret was washed away with it. Never before had the water seemed so pure to me. All the strains and aches of the trek vanished. And as I splashed it on my face, the frown gave way to a smile.

Then we all sat down on the rocks around our guide, and listened to him intently as he told amazing tales and incidents of jungles in India. Some of them did send a shiver down our spine.
By the time we decided to return it was noon. And even though we had to trek down, the heat made it all the more difficult.
When we reached the base, our bus had still not come. We took shelter under the village bus-stand with thatched roof and mud floor. Till the bus came we finished up the biscuit packets and bottles of water taken from the fall.

Back to the resort, we recalled our trek experience, nobody had any regrets of missing water rafting. After lunch I decided to sit by the river. Soon Supriya and Ankur joined. All of us slumped there itself into siesta.
Then on Supriya’s insistence we put on our life jackets and headed for the river.
Swimming with life jackets is an experience in itself. Some time later Sidhartha and Deepak joined us. I tried to explain to them the basics of swimming.
After an hour someone realized “Arey aaj to holi hai” We made Deepak our commander, and began our holi fight with pichkaaris (already kept near the banks) in the river itself. One person after other was chosen as the target and “ATTAAAAAAAAAA……….CK”.
“commander lead karo” we shouted.
“ruko!! instrument kharaab ho gaya hai” replied Deepak unable to handle the pichkaari. We were in splits.

In the mean while the rafting group started to come back. We made a planned attack on them, which took all of them by surprise. But most of them seemed too tired after rafting to retaliate.
Shameem returned from rafting and joined us there and then. And with his usual style, before any body could warn him of the rocks below in the river “SPLASH”.
His enthusiasm was contagious.
Soon pichkaaris became passé. Buckets were the new rage. While we struggled with pichkaaris to retaliate, Shameem and Sidhartha made our lives miserable with constant shower of bucketfuls water.

I, tired from more than hour of swimming, decided to sit on the bank, and play holi from there itself. After some time “Hey who is this girl playing from the banks? Aditi hai voh…….. attaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack”
Arey nahin I shouted, trying to gain some time to get away to a safe place….. But Shameem was already there with his bucket. After sometime I just lost count of how many buckets of water were poured on me by both.
“You wait; I am not going to leave any one of you.” For the next fifteen minutes I fought like a brave soldier answering all of them with my petite pichkaari(god !! I did deserve a medal for this) . Only when they found a new bakra, they had mercy on me.
By this time the natural colors had been brought. And before I knew my face had turned to yellow, blue and green.
“Kam se kam aankhon mein to mat daalo” I pleaded , but I wondered if anyone was listening.
‘You have had the best holi Aditi’ shouted Shameem, while looking for another victim …… ‘All because of you people’, I shouted back, trying to get the colors. Everyone put gulal on everyone, wishing ‘Happy Holi’. Even some scared souls ventured out of their rooms to celebrate holi this way.
Poor them!!. … All of them were brought to the banks and were left at our mercy.
Please mujhe allergy hai, meri skin sensitive hai, zyada nahin please…. All such pleas were drowned in buckets of water.

After taking a round of the resort, wishing people, we came back to our battlefield.
I suddenly realized that if I do not wash my face soon, the color being of haldi, would definitely stay for a day or too. So I sat at the bank and began splashing my face with river water.
Suddenly I found myself pulled and pressed inside water. When the hold was released finally, I gasped to take in as much air as possible. As I regained my senses, I could see two happy faces, Savio and Sumedh.
Oh God! You both…but why me…
“It was a group decision….Why to wash your face, when you have the whole river to yourself”……. But it was fun isn’t it.
“Ok I’ll have to admit, Yes” I said with a wicked smile, looking for more ways to have fun.
After playing holi in the river again for half an hour, I decided to call it quits. My body already had started signaling me to take a break.
‘Ok guys, bye, had a nice time, Happy holi to you all.’
Hey you are going !! exclaimed Siddharth
No, you can’t go! We are having so much fun..Shameem too joined Siddharth.
But I am tired like anything, cant’t play more….. I pleaded
No, you are not going, Don’t go … they said in unison.
.
.
.
.
.
Ok you all win, I think I still can play. Come to think of it, I haven’t even played with the buckets nicely.
.
.
Yo!! That’s the spirit!
.
And I charged towards the banks to get hold of a bucket. Immediately, I began pouring water, drawn from the river, on the people in the river and the victims being brought at the bank.
‘This girl has so much energy….. Oh god.’
In the mean while, it was a sight watching Syed, struggle to get out of Siddharth’s hold as others emptied their buckets on him.
While I was busy with my bucket, Shameem/ Shashank, came out and tried to take my bucket…
‘I am not letting go of my bucket at any cost……’
After a considerable effort I managed to retain my bucket. Thereafter teams were formed. The ones in the river Vs the ones on the banks. Siddharth joined me in my efforts against the formers.
What ensued was a fierce battle, with both the teams using every bit of the energy left in them. Together, we drew out and poured at least 100 buckets of water, carefully foiling all attempts by the other team to take our buckets.

As night drew closer, we realized it was time to stop. Reluctantly, people came out of water, and surrendered their pichkaris. The buckets too were returned. Soon everybody began to realize how much exhaustion has creeped in. We struggled our way back to the cottages, where we changed and got ready for coming back to Mumbai !!
The highpoint of the four hour journey back home was nonstop singing by the group of daring souls (yes daring,….. just try singing after such an over active day!!).

Someone said solitude………….!!