A glance at God's countenance

We were tired to our bones. The cool breeze felt like a relief to the soul and the comforters felt really comfortable. We were witnessing fatigue at its worst. In a group of nine, I could not spot a single soul who had enough verve to walk another mile if asked to. Someone considered the station’s waiting room to be an ideal place for rest. Few could, however, muster enough strength to walk up the platform’s dais and pull up their quilts, for resting under the tree with a gaze fixed at the stars has been mankind’s natural call since eternity. Restless people like me, to whom the buzzing mosquitoes were a greater menace than Satan himself, considered wandering along the length and breadth of the little train stoppage a far reasonable and soothing option. I had barely walked for 50 meters towards the exit when I heard it coming. I turned around to find that the sleeping souls had become vigorous. Many had already been preparing themselves for the protocol. We knew no one would reprimand us for doing what we are about to do at this hour of the night. I fled backwards, joining the group who were all aware of the nostalgia that was about the follow this impeccable sense of Déjà vu. My satisfaction surpassed my hopes when our hands and our feet started moving incoherently, but in a sense of unison that was unparalleled. 

That dance, to an untrained eye would have looked deranged; to a trained eye, it would have appeared to be unversed; to someone neutral it would have looked like another adulthood ruckus. In fact, few could have been able to understand why we were doing, what we were doing. When you can dance at the rhythm of a carriage clanking its wheels against the rails, you know you have serious issues. Bob Marley once said, “Once a satisfying music hits you, you don’t feel the pain. All goes numb.”   To us, for the moment, it was as satisfactory and convenient as it could get. The carriage kept going past us at a ferocious speed, crushing the eerie air of the night and the rhythm made us go on. The excitement was too high for us to miss even a single beat. The sound faded away in a leisurely fashion and the stringent silence was all that was left for us to experience. We looked at each other in satisfaction. No, it was not like the first time, but then, what is!

As everybody went back to their safe and comfy cocoons, I began wandering again. This time I found a spot on the opposite platform where I could be alone for a while. Some of us, we need that time sometimes don’t we. The benches on this side of the station were well lit by lampposts. I hardly had the energy to clamber my way to a bench which was just the perfect spot for me to give my mental faculties some rest. I lay down, reflecting upon all that had transpired during the last 24 hours. It was a day that showed me all the emotions that a human being in his right sense of mind could possibly feel. I had felt fatigue, exasperation, fury, peace, happiness, love, hatred and all that could be held synonymous. Not to mention, I had undertaken this trip out of pure excitement, something my health at the time did not allow.

As I succumbed to the cold bench, I could, for the first time in hours feel what it was like to have a backbone. It may sound like a hyperbole but those who know about the Parasnath climb would agree with me in a jiffy. The events of the day were inscribed on my soul. As I drowsed away, my subconscious took me back to the time when that short confabulation happened.

Me: When are we supposed to return?

Him: Try to make it before dusk. It becomes a bit dangerous once the light fades away and after 9 pm they all come out.

Me (petrified): Who are ‘they’?

Him: The animals.

Me: Animals! What kind of animals?

Him: All the kinds. There are Tigers, panthers, hyenas, wolves etc. If you get late and you see them, don’t run. Just keep on moving ahead without looking their way.

Me: Have you seen them?

Him: Of course I have. I live here. I have lost a daughter to these animals.

Me: How?

Him: Some animal, maybe a hyena.

Me: And? Didn’t anyone do anything? I mean some steps would have been taken right!

Him: There are no lights here, no police station, and no shop that stays open past evening. More than 50% people go downhill once the sun sets. You tell me who would do anything.

Honestly, I didn’t have an answer to his question. I drank the chilled sherbet in one single gulp and moved on. If I needed to make it back alive, it was necessary to catch with the rest of the group. Giving in to my physical limitations would mean delay which could inadvertently mean death and I was most certainly not prepared for it. I still had more than 5 kilometers to climb and the slope was too steep for me to take more than ten steps in one go. Every single cell in my body was cursing me for being a regular smoker as I was finding it difficult to draw a deep breath which was of utmost importance. The fact that I was down with fever only a morning ago was only making things worse than they already were. The shopkeeper’s words were reverberating through my neurons and I had to find someone soon. I had to tell them how dangerous it was. I kept on climbing; resting for more than couple of minutes was not an option. Soon I could see two of my friends waiting for me to catch up. The sense of gratitude I felt for them was something I cannot put into words. They had been there through all thick and thin for four long years. Yes, we had our differences, rare squabbles but somehow or the other those negativities seldom came amongst us. I wanted to tell them what I had come to know about just a few meters below but as soon as we came in each other’s listening range, I could see them laughing hard. I went close and Keshav said, “Yeah well! You look pathetic. I bet you will die a hundred times before reaching the top i.e. if you reach the top.” Raj on the other hand was supportive enough. “We will climb together. You will make it. Come on now, enough rest.” He was brought up in a family that had a strong military background and somehow, that was the moment when it became too obvious. I was not alone anymore. I had two of my most reliable friends accompanying me to the top of a mountain which was fabled for its serenity and peace. I slowed them down but somehow, they did not care. My despondence was in an intricate balance with their enthusiasm. We had climbed for 8kilometers. Somehow the statistic was too much for me to believe and a sudden sense of deference gripped my mind. I found a cot in a nearby shop as a resting place and vowed not to move till I catch my breath. They kept on calling me from outside and I kept on ignoring them to the best of my abilities. I told them to move and once it feels okay for me to advance, I will catch up. That seemed unbelievable to them. I told them that I would maintain a status quo and tag along once they begin their descent. But those unwavering chaps just wouldn’t listen. Ultimately, I had to give in to their motives.

Keshav had already taken my carry bag and to my supreme amazement, he came behind and began pushing me so that I don’t feel the exasperation of the climb. He didn’t need to prove his fitness to anyone but even after all that had changed in his routine; I was surprised to see the level of fitness that he still possessed. It took me back two years when he stayed with me throughout that stupid marathon and chose to stand last when he could have easily been in the winner’s queue. After all, here was a guy who could complete a hundred meter race in less than thirteen seconds. He had pushed me to the second last position back then and it was peculiar that he was doing it again. In front of me, Raj kept on climbing at a steady pace. The feeling of gratitude mixed with a paramount feeling of hunger had taken over and all I could think of was the 9.6 kilometer mark where we would find proper food.

“Rs 30/- per plate and you eat as much as you want”, said the shopkeeper in a voice filled with pride. We didn’t hear anything after the menu was announced in front of us; Rice, Daal, vegetables, salad and pickle. It was more than what we could ask for considering that we hadn’t had a proper meal since the previous evening and we had been clambering since 6:00 am without anything but liquid diet. We had regrouped and I could witness that all of us were extremely tired and weary. The heat was unbearable and we had begun to wonder if Chetan and Himanshu were right about the clouds, the rain and the serene ambiance of the mountainside. I asked them if it was all a seasonal affair and if we had travelled during the wrong time of the year. They told me that the top is still a few kilometers away and to experience all that, we need to climb again. “You see that white temple over there, that’s the place.” My hopes were being shattered as I followed his finger to see the temple he was pointing to. Although it did look in range but even from where we sat, it was easy to tell that the climb had to be 3 kilometers to say the least. I didn’t want to be the first one to give up so keeping mum was all I could do.

The food was ready and served. It appeared nothing short of a feast for each and every one of us. It didn’t take us a lot of time to finish up on our meals. The cots were empty and we lay down for a siesta. The blazing sun was slowly disappearing behind the clouds and I could see how they had begun to circumvent the white temple. Suddenly, from the white mist of clouds, a shower of rain erupted and slowly covered the entire mountain top and only a few kilometers away, we kept looking at the beautiful scenario, wondering as to when that shower will reach us. Few of us went outside the shop to get a good view of the complete scenario. Clouds were leisurely making their way towards us. The wind had suddenly become ferocious. The edge where we sat a few minutes ago now appeared to be lethal for the fear of being off-course loomed overhead. However, the feral winds felt like a boon sent from a God who was not far away. At that point in time, a glance at God’s countenance was all I had hoped for. All my despondence and glum had been thawed away by a single blow of nature. I had to make it to the top. I didn’t know how but it was imperative.

The fact that all of them reciprocated what I felt only made me more sanguine than I had ever been before. I can go as far as to say that the feeling of assurance and reliability on my group was something of a new experience for me. Somehow, I knew I would make it. Pratiush, Nandan and Himanshu were the forerunners (as usual) but in this part of the ascent, I made sure to match my steps with them. The rain had begun to pour over us and wind seemed to eradicate the fatigue that we had gathered for most part of our journey. We kept stopping but not because we were tired but mostly because the fabled serenity of the place was just too true to ignore. Aditya made sure he gets some rare pictures of himself. He kept on hopping from one rock to the other to make sure he found the perfect spot and the perfect pose. In the meanwhile, Ashish ensured a snooze on my lap and the others were busy lighting up the chillum. After a few moments of frolic and rest, we decided to move on. We were almost there. All that was left between us and the temple were a few hundred stairs which seemed like nothing when we looked down from a ravenous height of six thousand feet. Ashish took me by my arms and we began soaring up those stairs. He made sure that I was the first one to reach and once I did, a voice from behind echoed, “Told you, didn’t I! You will be the first one to climb.” I had no idea how to reply to something like that. Yes, I was lucky I had these guys with me. Without them, my ascent would have been impossible. Figuratively and literally, they made me go higher than I could ever wish to be. Others joined in soon and we saw why the place is so very fabled and famous. Peaceful, pure, serene and exemplary are a few of the many adjectives that are offered by the English language to describe what we experienced. The wind was blowing at a very high speed and the peace in the temple’s premises made us listen to every bit of its effervescence. We decided not to talk for a few minutes and just listen to the sound of nature. Those few minutes were the most peaceful moments of my life. My mind had cleared itself of the entire ruckus that keeps me troubled on a daily basis. Basically, it had cleared itself of everything. There were no thoughts. It was a big void but somehow, the feeling of being numb was soothing. I can only take a guess but I think everyone present had the same thoughts as no one spoke a word or even cleared their throats for the next ten odd minutes. We got up and I decided to venture inside the temple once more to have a look at it. The alcoves were filled with books. There was a priest but he didn’t demand us of any donation. Instead, he advised us to get going as the evening was to fall soon.

It was time for us to descend. It is funny to even think that as I was leaving the place, all the negative thoughts from the conversation I had with the shopkeeper began to circle my mind. I had completely forgotten about it. I chose not to tell them anything back then as the caretaker of the temple had told us that there were wild animals in the forest and we need to move with utmost urgency. The descent was painstakingly difficult as not only was it necessary to walk fast but also to keep our speed and movement under control for the roads were too steep. Gravity indeed proved to be a bitch the entire time. The descent was quicker than the ascent, it was supposed to be, but it wasn’t as easy as we thought it would be. Our soles and back hurt like anything. The agony only increased exponentially when we found that the sun had set and seven of us were still to see the city lights. We could see the monkeys rushing to the top of the trees indicating that it was time for the carnivores to set afoot. Rest was not an option.

Finally, we did manage to descend to the bottom of the mountain without being hurt. I cannot speak for the others but while I was earthbound, I was scared. Once we reached the roads of the city and became ready to leave for the railway station, I had a look back at the top. Yes, I did clamber up to that place. No matter how or when or why, I did. It was the day I could be as close to God as my life would allow. I will not go ahead and comment on my encounter with the shopkeeper or how the government is managing things in such a beautiful place because apparently that would be in vain. Few understand the pain of losing their child and fewer have the strength to ensure that incidents like those are not repeated. And as of now, I happen to feature in neither of the two categories. It was a peregrination which I shall never forget, for a glance at God’s countenance is something you don’t experience every day.