Date: Presumably somewhere around June of 2000
It sounds like 'Summer of '69', my sweet reminiscence of the 'Rains of '00'.......Jokes apart, this was one of the most amazing trips I had in my childhood. If I start thinking now, I always had a habit of getting into trouble since long, and my travelling had made me a container of hilarious and mad incidents. Since the day I decided on chronicling my experiences, I was focusing on recent events, but suddenly this idea had struck me. I have travelled to various parts of the country (jungles have always been my favourites), and I do want to share some long lost past events which were equally engaging, maybe more. So, while I am going a little low on my current travel plans, I will try to keep blogging with sweet memories of my past.
This was a trip I took with my family and couple of Family friends. With course of time I have almost lost contact with one of them, who happens to be my greatest buddy since I was wearing diapers. Narration of this story seems like a good way to remember her and feel the sharp pang of pain at her drifting away from me. Yet again I am happy at the thought that I have still managed to hold onto the other and cherish the strong bond we share as on today (considering just three weeks back on my return from DK, we had puffed the same weed hidden in the bathroom, it is a pretty strong bond, indeed). Our parents had planned for this unusual trip to the dense forest of Haazaribagh National Park, newly opened to public for night stay at that time with bare minimum amenities. We only realised what bare minimum means after reaching the depth of the jungle, but I will hold my words for that part of the story for the time being.
Important Details:
The Park: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hazaribagh_National_Park
The highway from Dhanbad to Hazaribagh is 128 km, and good resorts are available, while the dhabas have amazingly tasty food.
You can book the forest bungalow (very dilapidated in 2000, hope they have improved it now):
http://www.tourism-of-india.com/hazaribagh.html
It sounds like 'Summer of '69', my sweet reminiscence of the 'Rains of '00'.......Jokes apart, this was one of the most amazing trips I had in my childhood. If I start thinking now, I always had a habit of getting into trouble since long, and my travelling had made me a container of hilarious and mad incidents. Since the day I decided on chronicling my experiences, I was focusing on recent events, but suddenly this idea had struck me. I have travelled to various parts of the country (jungles have always been my favourites), and I do want to share some long lost past events which were equally engaging, maybe more. So, while I am going a little low on my current travel plans, I will try to keep blogging with sweet memories of my past.
This was a trip I took with my family and couple of Family friends. With course of time I have almost lost contact with one of them, who happens to be my greatest buddy since I was wearing diapers. Narration of this story seems like a good way to remember her and feel the sharp pang of pain at her drifting away from me. Yet again I am happy at the thought that I have still managed to hold onto the other and cherish the strong bond we share as on today (considering just three weeks back on my return from DK, we had puffed the same weed hidden in the bathroom, it is a pretty strong bond, indeed). Our parents had planned for this unusual trip to the dense forest of Haazaribagh National Park, newly opened to public for night stay at that time with bare minimum amenities. We only realised what bare minimum means after reaching the depth of the jungle, but I will hold my words for that part of the story for the time being.
Important Details:
The Park: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hazaribagh_National_Park
The highway from Dhanbad to Hazaribagh is 128 km, and good resorts are available, while the dhabas have amazingly tasty food.
You can book the forest bungalow (very dilapidated in 2000, hope they have improved it now):
http://www.tourism-of-india.com/hazaribagh.html
Incident 1: The Resort on the Highway
We took a jeep from Dhanbad to Hazaribagh town
Once we reached Dhanbad by train, we had the most unhygienic food on Earth as lunch (the bowls in which they served daal aka yellow water exactly resembles the hand bowls used by local barbers while haircutting, to dip their fingers). After satisfying our hunger we set out towards the town of Haazaribagh, a good 128 KM ride to a very beautiful resort on the highway. And it was in one of the rooms of this resort, that the first drama of the journey was staged.
We took a jeep from Dhanbad to Hazaribagh town
Once we reached Dhanbad by train, we had the most unhygienic food on Earth as lunch (the bowls in which they served daal aka yellow water exactly resembles the hand bowls used by local barbers while haircutting, to dip their fingers). After satisfying our hunger we set out towards the town of Haazaribagh, a good 128 KM ride to a very beautiful resort on the highway. And it was in one of the rooms of this resort, that the first drama of the journey was staged.
We 3 kids had an early dinner and came back to one of the rooms when the parents went down to the dining hall for a lazy dinner. We decided to make full use of their absence and rapidly started searching for all the strategically hidden alcohol. I was exhilerated to lay my hands on a bottle of Bacardi Rum (Aqua- Do not get this nowadays, maybe Bacardi have stopped manufacturing these, which is a shame) and instantly poured out the aqua blue liquid in 3 glasses. It was a very ill made peg, but in those times I used to be an inexperienced soul. As we were about to sip on the blissful liquid, one of the 3 Masketeers wanted to try her hands on a fag of smoke out of pure curiosity and a desperate bid for breaking those well formed rules.
Here, I have to deviate from the narration a little to insert some background information crucial for understanding the next series of events. My father, till date makes his own cigerette, wrapping the minced tobacco in a thin sheet of flammable paper (a very simple process, which is common to all smokers). The sweet little girl had her eyes on those raw ingredients (Tobacco Packet and Paper stack), when she felt that sinful desire. But when her intentions became clear to me, I realised that both of them wants me to actually make the thing owing to the fact that I should be en expert when I see my father doing it everyday for several times but I could not master the art by mere staring at his work. Afer a little struggle she lost her patience and snatched the paper from my hand stating that we have very little time left to us before our parents return. I appreciated her concern and sipped on my glass when the only guy in the group sat rigid with his glass frozen in his hands. He was the most decent person in the group, and he despised smoking and drinking. But still his frozen expressions seemed unnatural to me. I followed his stare to find the most shocking sight in my life till date.
Here, I have to deviate from the narration a little to insert some background information crucial for understanding the next series of events. My father, till date makes his own cigerette, wrapping the minced tobacco in a thin sheet of flammable paper (a very simple process, which is common to all smokers). The sweet little girl had her eyes on those raw ingredients (Tobacco Packet and Paper stack), when she felt that sinful desire. But when her intentions became clear to me, I realised that both of them wants me to actually make the thing owing to the fact that I should be en expert when I see my father doing it everyday for several times but I could not master the art by mere staring at his work. Afer a little struggle she lost her patience and snatched the paper from my hand stating that we have very little time left to us before our parents return. I appreciated her concern and sipped on my glass when the only guy in the group sat rigid with his glass frozen in his hands. He was the most decent person in the group, and he despised smoking and drinking. But still his frozen expressions seemed unnatural to me. I followed his stare to find the most shocking sight in my life till date.
Sitting across the bed, there was she with a matchbox in her hand and a white rolled paper sticking out of her mouth. For a single moment it seemed to me that she successfully rolled the smoke and now trying to lit it. But before I could realise that there is something wrong (as the paper was lose and not properly rolled), she lighted the blasted thing, and it burst into flame. 2 seconds of bewildered astonishment, follwed by 1 second of frenzied panic led us to jump from our comfortable couches and throw ourselves towards her. Her painful screams hit the four walls and struck us. A closer look at the situation revealed the thin paper, still burning was stuck to her upper lip with the little secretion of saliva (the paper is rolled and stuck with saliva to form the cigerette, so the gum is triggered by water), and as a result the fire is kissing her lips. I hit her face with a swing of my palm and the paper thankfully detached itself and fell on the green carpet where before dying out it produced a tiny hole. The calm boy had his reflexes fast enough to prevent the hole from enlarging by some inches and giving our poor parents a monetory shock apart from the moral ones....But, alas a considerable amount of visible damage was already done, as she had burnt her upper lips in an ugly black scorch mark. My mind started racing as to finding a quick and effective solution to the problem at hand and it seemed from all sides we were surely grounded this time, there was absolutely no way to scuttle out from the messy affair. To add to my miseries she was her crying out loud like a small child, and when we tried to pamper and soothe her for the pain, she sobbed and disclosed that she hardly cared for the pain in the lips but was increasingly tensed for her eyelashes which had burnt out with the sudden outburst of flames, and she strongly felt they would not regrow!!!!
I felt an upsurge of anger at this stupidity, but refrained myself with tremendous will power to slap her hard and tell that she was solely responsible for her actions. And now I would have to bear the brunt of all our misdoings which otherwise could have been hidden and forgotten easily. But the situation demanded for a calm head and clear thought process. We cleared the room and stripped it off all the proofs, my share was to drain the glass of aqua in my mouth, while he found it more convenient to drain it down the commode. Under any other circumstance I would have pounced on him to prevent such a wastage, but in the light of present affairs my self control was again admirable.
I can hardly remember the series of events which followed this, as all my feeble explanations, her constant never ending sobs over her lost eyelashes, his almost sinister silence were more than evident of the lies I was trying to put across to. I realised I failed miserable at my first ever attempt of crafty stories, when my mother after the entire narration brought me back to our room and delivered the following: " Please try to remember henceforth that we have passed your age with the same amount of lies and I would not question you further to force you with more embarrassing lies. But a request and advice from my side, please do not mix alcohols while you are drinking as that is the most harmful for liver." This is one advice I try to follow till date!
More incidents on this trip to follow as soon as I get time to pen them down. So keep an eye on the upcoming posts...;)
I felt an upsurge of anger at this stupidity, but refrained myself with tremendous will power to slap her hard and tell that she was solely responsible for her actions. And now I would have to bear the brunt of all our misdoings which otherwise could have been hidden and forgotten easily. But the situation demanded for a calm head and clear thought process. We cleared the room and stripped it off all the proofs, my share was to drain the glass of aqua in my mouth, while he found it more convenient to drain it down the commode. Under any other circumstance I would have pounced on him to prevent such a wastage, but in the light of present affairs my self control was again admirable.
I can hardly remember the series of events which followed this, as all my feeble explanations, her constant never ending sobs over her lost eyelashes, his almost sinister silence were more than evident of the lies I was trying to put across to. I realised I failed miserable at my first ever attempt of crafty stories, when my mother after the entire narration brought me back to our room and delivered the following: " Please try to remember henceforth that we have passed your age with the same amount of lies and I would not question you further to force you with more embarrassing lies. But a request and advice from my side, please do not mix alcohols while you are drinking as that is the most harmful for liver." This is one advice I try to follow till date!
More incidents on this trip to follow as soon as I get time to pen them down. So keep an eye on the upcoming posts...;)
