This post is at the wrong place. and certainly at the wrong time. Methinks it should have been published long, long ago, at the time it actually happened. Because, with the passage of time, certain impressions do appear to fade out.....I don't know exactly how much of the Rishikesh trip has faded from memory, but this is my last, brave attempt to try and get it into my blogosphere.....
I guess it all began with Apogee 08, our much-hated-and-loved techfest. Though definitely not in the same league as the cultfest Oasis, Apogee does bring loads of people together for some truly 'serious' fun, if you get what I mean. This Apogee, I "turned against my own people", so to speak i.e. ditched the Instruites to do a EEE project. No particular reasons behind it; I just liked the idea of a writing robot better than that of a tile-factory Anyways, working with the EEE assoc was a good experience. So much so that when the assoc suggested a post-Apogee trip to Rishikesh, with white-water rafting as part of the package, I was more than willing to tag along, ans so I did......
Its 8 hours from here to Rishikesh. Packed into the rear of a Qualis, with three other 1st-yearites (introducing: Ishan, Aparajita and Sandeep! The 4th 1st-yearite Apoorva was in another Qualis! And hey, I'm giving stupid !s after every sentence!), we spent the hours discussing about some things I don't exactly remember, making each other go to sleep only to poke them into wakefulness again and having a laugh, making small talk with the seniors in front, or just drowsily looking through glass panes at pinpricks and processions of tiny lights scattered in the distant night....
The next day, dawned bright and sunny (although we were sleeping and we didn't notice it when it did), and the straight roads had given way to winding ones as we climbed up and up the mountains. Finally the giant jhula came into view, and into the small town of Lachchman Jhula we had arrived.
Following a quick breakfast, some informal moments spent on the roof admiring the quaint beauty of Rishikesh and the majesty of the mountains towering all around it, and it was time for rafting.
Off we went on 2 rickety buses into the heart of the mountains, singing a few stupid songs, most of them, I am slightly ashamed to say, being Tamil. However, the half-hour ride was one of the most breathtaking I have ever seen, as the mighty Ganges below, in her most untamed form, twisted and turned with us. On reaching the camp; we were given 1) rafting equipment, 2) a team name(myrmidons in our case, I think), 3) a spot of anadulterated gyaan ; a pep talk about rafting(although it mostly focused on what to do if you fell out of the boat, or the boat turned over, both NOT very encouraging ideas). Then some 8 of us were packed in a bright orange thing with a cheerful Tibetan instructor, and off we went.
Rafting was, barring my Water Kingdom's "Amazonia" ride, the most amazing thing I have done in my life. It takes a pretty good deal of effort to row along in silent waters, but when in rapids, which the dinghy rearing and bucking beneath you even as sheets of water rise to strike you in the face, maintaining balance itself can be very difficult indeed. But you have to balance, bcuz you have to row, else you'd never cross a single rapid! Sounds a tad daunting but we did cross nearly twenty rapids :) . We also jumped off a 25m hgh cliff into the water. Sounds easy? Try it.
The night was comparatively uneventful...we went touring in Rishikesh, saw it sights and sounds, that included a loads of uncanny and uncouth male hippies, and some rather hot female ones....All in all, I would call the place rather weird. With its 'pious' populace, rundown motels and bright t-shirts and motifs of Hindu gods and goddesses everywhere, I guess this would have been one of the prime seats of the 1970s 'psychedelic Hinduism', popularized by the Beatles, and, of course, Zeenat Aman in 'Dum Maro Dum'.........
A word about the Lachchman Jhula : it stands now as a sorry testimony to the ravages of modern times....the descriptions of Satyajit Ray, Corbett and Kipling seem progessively more obsolete. I saw none of the beauty they have described. Instead, the thing looks like a giant fragment of rubbish, with stains of paan, political slogans and posters, and rotting girders.....
The next morning, we called it a day, or two, and returned..........
Cheers,
inJanus
