Profound parallelism

I guess no one deserves his place in the distribution of native endowments, any more than one deserves one's initial starting point in society. It began at 5:20 AM at first light, that phase of dawn at which one can just make out the trail and its hazards. Sunrise was about forty minutes off to say the least. If one hoped to survive a railway track hike in Sept, one does well to start at first light and be finished by high noon; unless you are the zen master or his uncle able to place your foot exactly on the planks in darkness! One advantage the early riser has over his opposite number is that he is better placed to enjoy certain celestial and atmospheric phenomena apart from the absence of peeking locals while you perform your ablutions.
25 in all, most yet to brush off the last vestiges of the crouched Rajahamsa slumber started in single file like ants converging to that elusive drop of honey. Adding to the misery of massive backpacks were the cumbersome rented sleeping bags which didn’t find space inside the backpacks. The warm-up walk from Heggadhhe to the track rendezvous loosened us up physically while the barking dogs aided to hone our mental alertness. I can’t vouch for Niranjan here though! :-)
Our plan was to complete the Yedukumeri hike, a delightful ramble that I had done a couple of times in both directions and at different times of the year while in college. The idyllic surroundings prompt me to get into the Zen of walking – or try to!
I let the mental blogging subside and listen to the silence while discreetly searching out that “perfect spot” for a dump: I just hike, leaving the composition of a blog post about hiking for later. The silence is positive and palpable. But there are plenty of critters, most of which I do not see and the clatter of the remaining 48 boots striking out a rhythm on the abandoned tracks. I stop often, leaning on my stick, to take in the beauty of the profound parallelism of the tracks and the sky and the hills that I never tire of!
The stick in question is a primitive torch left behind by the workmen; which would help us cross a couple of long dark tunnels further on the way. There were 44 in all and the 21st tunnel sheltered us for the night. Yedukumeri used to be thriving with the usual placards of a typical Malgudi-type town when I came here last; it now resembled a train-station whose town had opted for an airport instead! I remember the rupaayg-erd beNNE dosas being sold at the station which would have given Vidyarthi bhavan a run for their money! The weakened limbs after the arduous trek stimulated thoughts of pitching tents on the clean platforms for the night; especially after that small siesta prompted by gorging on some delicious food. But that was not to be! Retrospection leaves me wondering where I picked up the 'practical guy' tag ‘cos I remember being the one to coerce the gang to trudge along further, knowing that we had miles to go before we sleep. Being the narcissist, I must admit it must be my own promotion...sort of sounds like the insidious manipulator of human desires for commercial purposes, eh?
Anyways, an hour later, the skies opened up forcing us to search out a clearing for the tents. The sleek slimy knot-able leeches around our chosen campsite coupled with the grapevine knowledge that we were obstructing the movement of elephants obligated us to search out greener pastures. Tunnel 21 was supposedly the haunt of local hunters and we chose to share their habitation for the night. A frenzied pitching of tents later, we congregated inside the tunnel to ward off the rains. Gowda’s culinary skills were put to test while the scene around the small fire resembled the Bombay stock exchange with everyone shouting their orders! Later that night, Mukunda, Niranjan and some others rendered soulful tunes while I busied myself prattling with the hunters. All of us enjoyed a good night’s sleep despite the constant babble from the hunters and the fragile shelters.
The next morning left me wondering whether the silver foils and the plastic waste are among the dietary needs of flying squirrels, iguanas, mouse deer and hares and whether trash inspires others to leave trash?! The silver lining being that most of the
backpacks(especially Andy’s!) weighed a stone less! Bori’s mobile decided to stay back in the wilderness while the rest of us marched forward with a renewed vigor. The walk to the next station Shirabagilu was considered more picturesque with deeper valleys and darker tunnels. The previous night’s drizzle had compounded the slippery-ness of the numerous bridges’ wooden planks which created some topples; Chetana’s being the most destructive. Chandan’s yunani medicines seemed to lessen her pain though! At about 3 hours past noon, we reached the station where we bid adieu to the tracks to continue on a dirt track to rendezvous with the Subramanya road. Breaking the monotony of the tracks was a welcome break and we rewarded ourselves with a cool dip in the stream midway.

~Cheers~
Sandy

P.S : In a lighter vein, the prattle on top may not be necessarily mine; may not be necessarily those of my employer and in all probabilities may not be necessary at all! Looking forward to repeat such ventures again though– Insha Allah!