Disconnect to Connect (Leh Ladakh post 4)

It was unusually sunny at 7 am in the morning. Sujata and myself we were ready on the said time and waiting in the hotel lobby for everyone else to come, to start the exiting journey!

However, the waiting seemed like forever, as people were taking their own slow time to get ready and come downstairs.

Some bikers were getting ready with their gears, a few people taking photos, while Manav was hustling around, making sure everything is all set for the journey.

While I and Sujata were sleepy and getting a little annoyed for no one was on time and were already running late from our decided time, I saw a young boy, a sardar, of course, looking a little lost and fidgeting with his bag. I examined the bag on the hotel entrance steps – a brown coloured, medium sized, leather bag pack with camera and lenses.

“Oh, this must be that photographer, Manav was talking about” I wondered, a little too loud for my friend, Sujata to hear. She looked into the direction of my gaze and nodded in agreement.

“Which guy would carry such a girly bag?”, I asked her. She giggled and said, “This one!”

I continued to look towards him and was too quick to judge him to be rude and snobbish. He was wearing a slim fit shirt and blue denims, black boots and a well tied turban. He was looking around and setting up his camera in one hand and in the other, he was doing a live story on Instagram.

In almost 30 minutes, we started from our hotel only to take a halt a few minutes later.

We are waiting for from what Manav was talking with, I could make out that there's going to be another girl joining us.

“I hope she is easy going, else it would be just me and Sujata in the entire trip!” I thought to myself.

I looked outside the window and let the train of thoughts run.

“Great, this one girl who is taking so long to come one weird Sardar photographer in our car. Manav ji seems fine. I hope everyone is friendly here, else I am going to get bored.

Manav was now talking to someone over the call. His tone soft.

“Definitely, it's his kids he is talking to”, I thought to myself.

Sujata looked at me and said, “What is he talking? I don't understand a single word!”

I just flashed a smile at her and nodded, because I did.

Thanks to Bollywood, Hardy Sandhu, and a few Punjabi friends, I knew Punjabi.

Few moments later, the photographer who was sitting next to Manav got down from the passenger seat and indicated me to get down, as he was shifting to the last seat.

He looked so aloof and lost, I wondered if he ever talks to anyone!

As soon as he made himself a little comfortable in the back seat, which was full of bags, my heart sank looking at the little space he had to sit.

Moments later I saw a girl making her way on the front seat.

Manav too got into the driving seat and said to this aloof photographer that when we take a halt for breakfast, we'll get the bags sorted so he enough place to sit.

Manav then introduced her; her name was Sapan.

“Huh? Sapan?? Weird name.” I thought but said a quick hi and kept repeating to myself, “No sarcasm, not now! '

In about 20 minutes we reached a roadside dhaba, and Manav asked us to make ourselves comfortable and order whatever we wish for.

We took chairs and were going to through menu, I looked around and saw, almost 90 percent of the room was full of our group. I was trying to make myself comfortable with so many people around and gulped water to calm myself down.

We ordered aloo paratha with butter. It was nothing compared to the parathas we get in 
Mumbai, but I wanted to savour local as much as possible.

Post breakfast we were all back into our car and off towards Manali.

Manav was playing some random songs (mostly Punjabi) and Sapan was talking to him about random stuff.

I was about to pull out earphones from my bag, when the photographer asked, “Ludo khedein? (Let’s play Ludo?)” in heavy Punjabi accent which I couldn't understand and shrugged my shoulders.

He repeated, “Ludo?”

I nodded and said, “Sure.”

Sujata said, “What is Ludo?”

Both me and the photographer looked at her in disbelief.

I explained, “It's a board game, Dude! We play such games during long travel journeys to kill time.”

“Oh. I didn’t know, but yeah, okay, let’s play." she replied.

He took his cell-phone and asked us to select the colour of our choice and we started playing the game.

It was fun and within few minutes in the game we were laughing and cursing each other. It was then I learnt, his name was Gurpreet.

In between I would look outside the window and the view was indeed very beautiful; the mountains, the pine trees, the narrow roads, clear sky and fluffy clouds! It was paradise!

We took couple of halts to soak our soul in nature and bliss!

At around 2 p.m., we took another halt for lunch. Gurpreet, Sujata and I finished our lunch pretty quick and made our way towards the terrace of the restaurant to click some pictures.

Post lunch the biker group decided to take another route to some gurudwara, but Manav stuck to the definite plan and we were off towards Shimla.

Around 5 in the evening, amidst laughing and singing songs, we finally were close to our hotel in Shimla, where I could see the majestic Himalayas! Snow-clad peaks of the regal mountain range made me shout in ecstasy, “Barfache dongar (snow-clad mountains)! Wow!”

Gurpreet, for whom this was as good as foreign language, looked at me with eyes wide open, while Sujata giggled like a teenage girl.

While I was unable to control my emotions of finally experiencing the snow-tipped mountains, I kept repeating the same words, over and over, until Gurpreet finally quietened me by saying “Ye Dongad ki hunda? (What is this Dongad?)”

“It’s not Dongad, it is Dongar! ‘R’ and not ‘D’!” I said.

“O ki hunda? (What is that?)” he asked.

“Yaar, it is Marathi for Snowy mountains; ‘Barfa’ is snow and ‘Dongar’ is Hill or Mountain.” I explained.

“Oh. Badi Aukhi ha tuhadi language. (Your language is quite difficult)” He said looking at the mountains.

I smiled at his naivety.

He asked me if I have a diary as he wanted to make a note of his new learning. I quickly gave him my small travel-diary and a pen. He wrote down the words and said, “Before the trip ends, I would want to learn few words of Marathi and would in turn will teach me Punjabi.” I nodded in agreement.

While I did judge this young sardar in the start, we jelled up pretty instantly. The game of Ludo was the ice breaker!

Every day from that day onward, I would go to his room and check if he is ready; he was indeed, never! I would help him pack his bags and make sure there’s a plate of breakfast and chai ready for him, by the time he ties his turban or wears his shoes. I would call him beta and yell at times if he was late! At all times, I would make sure there are enough packets of chips for him to binge on and click numerous pictures of him on his request!

On the second last day of our journey, while sight-seeing in Srinagar, I bought a few extra packets of chips, which I handed over to him while I hugged him good bye on the last day.

Neither of us could hold back our tears and we promised to meet soon; Mumbai or Punjab doesn’t matter, but we will. He called me from the car to make sure I am not crying any longer!

At times, we meet people accidentally and they give us memories of a lifetime. They enter our lives, only to stay there, forever!