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by SPRIHA
Rated: E · Essay · Experience · #1789228
An essay on the beautiful LANDSDOWNE in the Himalayas

1. PREFACE
The morning still had its usual labyrinth on.
However, the wind was devoid of any sting. Rather, it seemed that it was more engrossed in exchanging pleasantries with the oak and the pine trees. These trees, with an almost ubiquitous presence, were also possibly urging for succour and were beseeching not to sweep away from the sylvan surroundings the morning maze, their veneer that shielded them from the hegemony of a scorching sun.
But, as obvious, averting such a confrontation was probably never on the cards. The beaming sun rays were steadily showing signs of their ever growing presence. Emerging from their chromosomal existence at the dawn, the beams continued to penetrate, a bit surreptitiously, the protection that the tree cover otherwise presented.
Eventually as they could etch an ineffaceable presence on the pedestals of the hill surface, they surged ahead to attain an ensconced status. As the window panes gave in to their strident march, they kissed the wooden floor of our hotel room and eventually stretched up to my empty tea cup lying on the centre-table close to the window.
To me, it thus announced the time for a second cup of morning tea.

……….. We missed it yesterday, as we could reach LANDSDOWNE only in the afternoon.




APRIL 01, 2010: THE JOURNEY
Starting early we took the Meerut Route (NH-58) beyond the Dabur Chowk. A built-up landscape prevailed till we crossed the urban precincts of Meerut. Much to our delight, it gradually yielded to an agrarian landscape. Even with our limited knowledge, we could easily identify the predominance of sugarcane in the agricultural fields abutting the highway. With time traffic got reduced, and bigger trucks had a miniscule presence. Rather, tractor-trailers carrying sugarcane produces continued to grow in number. Quite a number of sugar-mills also were evident along-side the highway.
Midway, after MAWANA (on NH-119) and where the highway split into two for MUZAFFARNAGAR and KOTDWAR respectively, we took a break at a road side mid-size restaurant.
It was around 9.30 AM, but still pleasing. While eucalyptus adorned the boundaries of the oblong mini-lawn that the restaurant managed to build in front of its edifice, flowers like Chrysanthemum, Marigold and Daisies of different hues reinforced its appeal. For those, like us, who preferred to sit outside the confines of the restaurant’s concrete walls canopies of four matured trees located at each of the corners of the lawn provided the required shades. Sitting on the fibre-chairs placed underneath the shades, we relished our breakfast.
Giving in to SPRIHA’s importunate tantrums, we bought her potato chips before embarking on our journey again. From the Y-Junction we traced the highway-arm towards KOTDWAR.
Mango groves added distinctiveness to the otherwise largely bucolic landscape. The bell-shaped canopies (almost like unfolded umbrellas), displaying exemplary camaraderie, were as if engrossed in a serious tussle in their attempt to thwart the marauding sunrays vying for the earth’s surface. The beams that could perforate the defensive screen, in turn, underwent refractions from the ground only to lend a mystic hue to the otherwise dim alleys of the grove.
Even though the road bypassed BIJNOR, the NAJIBABAD settlement however had its fringes extended right up to the highway. In sharp contrast to an urban countenance, the settlement typified a rural market centre of INDIA. Apart from shanties and semi-permanent structures, often dilapidated buildings presented a rustic ambience that the attire of its people in general otherwise lent. So prominent were these that they did not escape even the untrained eyes of SPRIHA.
Beyond this, the rural landscape resurfaced and continued till we reached KOTDWAR. It featured, compared to NAJIBABAD, a more polished urban genre. Schools, Banks, ATMs, petrol pumps all lined up together with other usual commercial units seen along the highway peripheries. A mixed traffic, with a pronounced share of non-motorized and pedestrian users, lent a constricted passage that our car had to carefully negotiate. As all these kept our attention completely betrothed, we could appreciate the transition to a mountainous terrain only when a steep ascent complicated manoeuvring a sharp turn.
The mountain thus announced its start!!!

2. THE PRISTINE MOUNTAIN
As we continued with our ascent uphill the portrait of the KOTDWAR town beneath us gradually went on to become a diminished silhouette, just enough to outline its existence amongst the assorted contours of a boundless horizon. In fact such was the magnificence of the convivial hills that we could not even realize when KOTDWAR finally disappeared completely from our viewing range.
Every now and then, preceding the omnipresent curves along the winding road, shapeless boulders jutted out of the hill faces. Precariously dangling from the slopes, the protruding overhangs were as if bidding adieu to the metalled-road that disappeared around the bends. Although blinding in their approach, once we veered along the bends we were witness to pristine panorama where the Nature was emceeing its own revue.
Cascades of varying sizes were dancing down from immense heights. Unlike the recalcitrant forceful torrent that which tend to disparage all that come on their way during the prime rainy months, in the wake of the winter the springs were tractable, rather most magnanimous. It seemed as if they were the messengers from those far-flung unchartered territories up above that only they could traverse. And sprinkling water droplets, thereby drenching the road surface, was possibly how they were sharing those tidings. The clatter of the flowing water reminded us that the otherwise serene surroundings were as if suddenly buzzing, perhaps vivacious from the excitement of having news from their distant loved ones. Quenching such thirst (for news), the cataracts merrily continued to glide down the slopes probably to pass them to many others waiting impatiently down the hills.
Oak, deodar and pines were immaculately lined up the slopes. The otherwise dimly illuminated alleys between their slender trunks, often opened up right at the mountain crests. Wherever it did so, a smiling azure sky peeked through and thereby rendered them a heavenly effervescence. So riveting were they that time flew past unnoticed and we have had to be told by our driver friend that we were nearing our destination, the BLUE PINE resort.




3. BLUE PINE - THE RESORT
It was located in the outskirts of LANDSDOWNE. Extending right from the road level, its expanse constituted three distinct levels constructed along benches constructed (by cutting) along the hill slope.
The first level, possibly the oldest too, housed the main components, and was a two-storied structure. The ground floor had the reception, besides a dining hall and staff rooms. Originating from a rather Spartan reception was a staircase leading to the first floor which continued further to open up at the terrace. Unlike the first, the second floor was completely meant for guest-accommodation. The terrace had a gymnasium (also provided with indoor game facilities) and matched in elevation the hill bench that accommodated the second-level units of the resort. Length-wise the second level was more in its expanse, with accommodation-units constructed even above the high retaining wall (adjacent to the resort’s approach road). Prefabricated units added distinct identity to the accommodations in the third level. However most attractive, especially to the kids, was the presence of rides that the resort managed to come up with above the third tier, one that can be termed as its fourth level.



4. OUR ROOM
It was just exquisite, beyond any eulogy.
The recess was at the farthest end from the entrance, and was endowed with gargantuan windows. Beyond their huge frames a fabulous panorama unfolded once the curtains were wrapped. Pine and Oak trees, with their conspicuous conical structures, were omnipresent on the hilly turf. The tips of those at the topmost row were as if reflections of the gradient (slope) of the hill’s steep ascent (towards the peak). Separated uniformly, they resembled a disciplined army waiting for the command to march ahead.
The road could be seen languidly tracing a winding alignment along the hill. The indolence was however in sync, and never at odds with the treasured ambience that was there to be imbibed by our senses.
It was time for us to relax too. In turn, we took our bath (of course I turned out to be the last one) and then headed towards the dining room. To our delight lunch was ready by then, and was promptly served.


5. THE EVENING
We relaxed a bit more, just to ensure that SPRIHA recover from the jadedness that the morning’s journey inflicted on her. By the time we were ready to step beyond the hotel’s precincts, few fragmented clouds manning the western hemisphere were already donning golden tinges. Contrary to their circular presence at noon, shadows of the trees were by then distinctly elongated. Often, mostly at curves, such shadows were akin to arrow-marks those that were as if pointing the EAST to the road users.
Our car went past young boys shepherding their cattle back to their houses. They were oblivious of our presence, and were engrossed in their own world. Seeing their animated exchanges, I wondered may be they were discussing plans to execute a treacherous trek to a distant verdant plateau. Probably the perils were worth the denouements they looked forward to, an opportunity to experience the NATURE having a soliloquy presumably on whether anything still remained imperfect or unfinished. The fluttering of wings by blissful magpies flying from one to another branch of the apple orchard therein, the swaying of daisies on the banks of an unnamed brook whose clatter sounds like a ting, the random percussion of the underlying round pebbles, the sporadic exultation of the weeds, shadows chasing light along the hill contours etc. all contributing to such a soliloquy. With incandescent peaks in the backdrop of green mountain-faces; the occasional blackish tinges imparted to them by the shadows of the hovering disintegrated clouds in an otherwise azure sky; the languid flow of crystal waters in the rivulet; the impeccable verdure of its greenery etc. would however leave nothing extemporised there in the NATURE’s canvass. Once there, the young boys would probably look for a fording where they would let their cattle cross unescorted, and thus concentrate on caressing exquisite pebbles that otherwise would remain unattended. It cropped up to me, “Would SPRIHA be able to fathom, if not experience, these sublime feelings? Would she ever comprehend such ecstasy? Would they ever beacon her? Would she be able to jettison the trappings of all-pervading consumerism and lofty ambitions leaving her with some space to at least fantasise such pristine tranquillity, if not embank on to experience an elysian abode where, in the words of KABIGURU TAGORE, "the eternal bliss is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles, alarms and hopes, waves rising up and sinking again, dreams breaking and forming”?
Dickens used this word “extemporised” in his description of the “Tellson’s Bank” in “A Tale of Two Cities”
From Tagore’s Gitanjali
Such amorphous possibilities started clouding my thoughts, but only to be interrupted on viewing the customary lineaments of military establishments. The buildings bore the trademark-look manifested in their greyish-yellow walls and inclined brown-tiled roofs, a lineage of colonial architecture one can associate with cantonments across INDIA. Gateways with iron-grills and semi-circular signboards adorned their entrances generally, but often inscriptions on stones were also visible. Spread across expanses reasonably wide, the single-storied structures generally have had some neatly maintained green tracts in front of them. The road too suddenly wore a changed complexion with neat surfaces and white-paint markings besides the fact that dried-leaves no longer seemed to clog the drains. Instead they were stacked at regular intervals. The disciplined regimen and work ethics of defence personnel were conspicuously evident everywhere.
Finally, as we turned left at a small roundabout, the portrait of a small town transpired. Although mist have had by then already started spiralling up from the valley underneath, the abundance of inclined (inverted-V-shape) roofs were conspicuous enough to attract our attention when seen from top. While such discernible dominance was ostensibly because of their advantages in draining-off rain much more swiftly, more striking were the emanating light-beams which got reflected from the silver surfaces of the roofs and in-turn outlined the peripheral contours of the settlement.
We finally disembarked at a place that seemed to be the only one earmarked for parking. Sighting a tea-shop we straightaway headed for that. On expected lines, being a small outlet that it was, a few traditional wooden tables and sitting stools were lined up in two rows. The passage between the rows opened up straight at the entrance, a glass-framed door spanning almost the entire expanse of the shop’s width. Although it thus admitted natural light to infiltrate from outside, but as then the day was approaching the twilight even with the electric-bulbs the illumination inside was scant. However it did not matter much to us as the shop offered much more than tea, ranging from snacks to sweets. The opportunity of relishing our evening tea elated us. We grabbed it without relenting to the bevy of cautions, given its obvious lack of hygienic appeal, which anybody would naturally tend to come up with.
We got ourselves briefed on the locality at the tea-shop itself, and then proceeded to catch a glimpse of it. As we were told, hardly after a few hundred yards where it swerved towards the right only to disappear beyond the hill, the main road branched off. As we could reckon subsequently, the emerged road was the sheer lifeline for the dwellers in spite of it essentially being just an alley when compared against any urban standards. Unlike most incidences where the abnormalities of a route are essentially dictated by constraints lent by buildings and land-use in the immediate vicinity, this very alignment’s acute meandering was to impart additional lengths in order to negotiate the otherwise too-steep hill-slope with a rather navigable gradient. Even then it descended at such a slope that balancing one’s body had to heavily rely on how tacitly the toes got manoeuvred together with the pace of one’s forward movement. While this did not really please her mother, SPRIHA was however extremely excited! Though she wished for my indulgence, but her mother’s vigilant yells were enough for me to not indulge myself into it. I tried my best not to side with any one of them, and only remained mutely watchful.
Buildings that lined up along the immediate edges of the road were predominantly commercial units. The residential ones were behind, and were served by numerous even-smaller alleys. After taking off from the main road, such by-lanes too meandered between clustered houses before disappearing behind one. Justifying a bulged outline, akin to a balloon, that could be seen from top, the spread seemingly increased with the slope gradually relenting as a narrow flat tract at the foothill got approached. Probably because we are used to seeing markets gearing them up for an eventful evening barter, its absence was however quite striking. Otherwise, as we could see, the shops were offering everything that ought to be provided to a settlement to thrive. The only thing missing was however glamour! However, to us, it hardly mattered.
If the descent had tested our toes, the ascent was an acid-test for the knees. Had the climate been not so supportive, it would have had been really taxing.
By the time we reached our car, dusk had set in. An imponderable darkness was fervently chasing the remnants of a bright day. Though fleeting, but still they managed to extract a hearty respect, a sincere heart-felt bow.


APRIL 02, 2010: A MEMORABLE MORNING
As I was having my second cup of tea, they were again back. The boys were shepherding a more agile contingent now. Their fresh limbs chose to be more ambitious and enterprising. Leaving the rather tangible contours of the vehicular-road, that they were happy to trace last evening, they were now more adventurous as they decided to trek upwards along the foot-tracks.
May be they do so every morning. But still, the very young ones in the herd seemed to be somewhat tentative and were thus comfortable in remaining close to their mothers. Only the rather grown-up members showed more exuberance as they often veered from the marked tracks. That such manoeuvres required them to jump for negotiating the undulations, besides sharp rises in the terrain, as it seemed to us they were oblivious of any consequential trepidation and were hardly dispirited from such extra efforts that it necessitated.
The spirits that they demonstrated were perhaps truly contagious as we too, quite quickly by our own standards, readied ourselves for the breakfast. Soon after that we were once again moving in our car towards the town we ventured last evening. We went past them yet again. Leaving behind those cantonment buildings, the roundabout, the tea stall, the market etc. we headed straight for BHULLA-TAAL.
The BHULLA Lake indeed embodied a majestic environment. Multiple rows of conifers lent a unique green cover to the entire waterfront. Though the morning mist was gradually fading when we reached the spot, the remnants were still enigmatic enough to enliven our souls. A promenade built with concrete blocks, led us to a designated sitting zone underneath a huge canopy. Being fabricated with wood, the canopy was in perfect harmony with the natural surroundings.
Sitting there we could see that while hills presented natural confinement on three sides of the lake, on one side it was through an artificial weir structure. In the wake of a long winter spell water was not much in the lake. But still it was enough for enthusiasts to go for boat rides. Not far away from where we were sitting we could see few of them lined up along a miniature quay built along the lake-front.
A cloud cover too existed in the morning. Along with the diminishing mist cover, quite often the clouds too were relenting to the foraying sunrays. When that happened, it seemed that a wealth of gold got scattered through the rift of the clouds etching a different dimension to the morning sea of silence which occasionally broke into ripples of bird songs.
From Tagore’s Gitanjali

Finally we decided to venture on to the other side of the lake. As we walked along the lakefront we could see its crystal water giving in to mild ripples even when a relatively miniscule sprig plunged into it. Not that a breeze was always responsible, often the water surface yielded even when a small bird chose the lowermost sprays on its banks to rest its wings before moving on to another one.
May be I could perceive those subtle happenings as the silvery ripples transcended my inner-self, beyond earthly senses, to the world of Oliver Twist. Probably my subconscious instincts wanted me to look for those wonderful little reeds that with their graceful curtseys could beckon a swallow to make courtship, even relinquishing the company of others keen on commencing their migration .

Oliver Twists in his “The Happy Prince” describes a small swallow, a migratory bird ,that fell in love with a colourful reed and thus made enormous efforts to ingratiate itself with the reed.

On that side of the lake stood a viewing tower with a prominent presence. While the wooden structure complemented the natural surroundings, the stairs stood out to be an enticement. Despite an initial hesitation, SPRIHA followed me to the top. However her mother had to be got convinced through repeated assurances from both of us. Finally we three settled down to enjoy a landscape immaculately crafted out by an unadulterated virgin NATURE. Viewed from an elevation, the changed complexion of the lake’s water added a totally different dimension. The azure sky with fragmented clouds could be seen there with an obvious conspicuousness, only to be blurred by occasional ripples that were brought about by the flapping wings (of birds) touching an otherwise calm surface.

Time too flew past unnoticed. A mild breeze that was blowing down the hills did have to make its way through a plethora of trees, and reached us as a whisper. It perhaps gave wings to SPRIHA’s inquisitiveness and she kept on asking one or other thing. Not always an impromptu reply by either of us could satiate her. Thus we went on and on and on.

Like all good things however this too had to end. We had a number of other spots in our roster viz. TIP and TOP, the military museum, the JUNGLE RETREAT RESORT etc. Nevertheless when we finally decided to leave BHULLA TAL, the mountains, the clouds, the mist, the water, the trees all have had etched the promise of a breathtaking canvas that the NATURE still had in store for us. We moved on, but only after we paid a heartfelt gratitude to the ALMIGHTY.
© Copyright 2011 SPRIHA (subir at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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