Tuesday, February 06, 2007

The life underneath

The car made a grunting sound which echoed across the ravine. It was struggling on the steep road like a half dead animal. Finally it came to halt. Himesh had to apply hand brakes to stop the car from rolling backward. It was not as dark as other days. The monsoon clouds of July were reflecting some light but that made things worse. In such a dim light you can’t see anything, nor can you avoid seeing things which aren’t there.

He knew it all. So he remained in the car. Anxiously looking at watch which showed that there were still 10 hours to go before any sign of life showed up in that barren hill. But there was no option. He smoked his Four Square, alert to sounds outside. Hour after hour passed. The matchbox was moist. As he tried desperately to light his last cigarette, it refused to cooperate. He was annoyed at his luck. He wondered if somehow he can turn the car around he can go down hill without any power. That was risky but worth trying. But there wasn’t any way to turn the car around. He dozed on the steering wheel.

When he woke up in the middle of the night, it took him a full minute to realize where he was and how he got there. He came out of the car and stretched. He was not that afraid. He longed for a tea badly. He walked up a little and came to a spot from where he could see the road crawling up the hill like a snake. Suddenly his eyes caught sight of flickering flames. It looked far away. There was a small river some five hundred feet below the road. He wasn’t sure if the fire was on the same side of river as he is or he will have to cross the river. He decided to go down the narrow footpath and inspect it.

Every ten step of so he would look at the fire. From one place it would seem across the river and from other place it looked as if it was on the same side. Finally he reached the plain stretch of land leading to the river. There, as if out of nowhere, was a shop. A bonfire lit in the front, with an old man sitting in front.

“Aa go chaaa”
“yes”..He was little taken aback. As far as he knew, the sentence in Kumaoni means “So you came”. As if the old man was waiting for him. In Kumaoni it is also used as to initiate the small talk after meeting.
“Its quite cold..” Old man said..
“yes..I was drawn by the fire”
“It has rained continuously for weeks..Only today it stopped”
“is it?” He was surprised because 20 km down the hill there hasn’t been any rains this season.
“yes, the river almost gobbled up my shop”
“oh”
“and the entire hill came tumbling down”
“where”
“from there to here” He indicated to the hill.
“Is the road open?”. Many times he had seen the road closed due to landslides.
“Yes, The road is open..now”
He took a sigh of relief.

“Is there a mechanic shop nearby”
“mechanic?”
“to repair the car”
“car?” The old man seemed to be living in some bygone era. He gave up and thought “lets wait for the morning”

“You want some tea?” The old man asked.
“That would be great but..”
“Bholaa” the old man shouted
“No..Don’t wake anyone, its late night”
“No one sleeps out here” The old man said.

Before he could understand what he said a small child came out. He must be nine or ten.
“How many”. Bhola asked
“How many people do you see here?” The old man quipped.
“Two if I count you”
“So you do..and put little less sugar. Sahib has come from far away”

“You keep the shop open in the night?”
“Yes”
“But who would come in the night?”
“Sometime people do…like you”
“hmm..but why haven’t you put up the shop by the roadside”
“It was there but it came down”
“Came down?”
“I told you that there was a landslide”
“You said it happened last week”
“Yes it did”
“The shop looks as if it stood here for years”
“Yes it has stood here for years”

Bhola had brought tea, in a full steel glass. Himesh thought wow. It will dissolve all the bad luck that had followed him tonight. Both the man sipped tea silently.

“It has warmed me from inside” Himesh said
“yes..rum would be even better” The old man replied
“yes sure”..he laughed
“Do you get it here?”
“what?”
“scotch..rum anything..”
“This is Biir Bhatti. This place which supplies to entire region”
“Oh”
“Bholaa, can you take Saab to the wine shop?”
“Its just next door..he can go there alone” Bhola curtly replied.
“No I don’t need it. I was just asking” Himesh didn’t want to trouble the child at the night.
“but I need it” Old man said.
“Ok, I’ll bring a bottle..Show me where it is”

The old man indicated the footpath going upstream. This place was not as dark. He went along in quick steps. The entire hill side touched the river in a smooth slope. There was almost no flat surface here. As he walked he kept looking for the shop but there wasn’t anything there.

“Is anyone there?” he shouted. Little scared now.
“Come in” A voice replied.
“Where are you”
“Wait I’ll get you”

He was shocked for a moment when a man emerged from the ground below, raising a wooden plank. Before he could decide to run away, the endearing smile of the villager was welcoming him.


“It all got buried in landslide”
“Oh..Thats unfortunate..did anyone got hurt?” Himesh asked showing sympathy.
“No one escaped unhurt” said the villager, quickly descending the stair under the wooden plank.

The stairs led to a dark room lit up with a candle. He had difficulty going down the stairs but once inside he felt really cozy. The place was unkempt. On the table was a big candle which looked as if it was lit up just now. The roof went down in an incline and ended up with a small window at the grown level. You could see the river from the window.

“So. What you like Sir”
“Anything..can’t be choosy at such a time? Scotch..rum anything”
“You like vintage scotch?”
“sure if it isn’t too expensive. How old?”
“Hundred year”
He looked around the dingy place and wondered what the hell a hundred year old vintage scotch doing here. The villager kept rummaging around in the racks, thong broken bottles here and there.

“Sir, hope you don’t mind, this place is a mess and hasn’t been touched for ages”
“No..its ok. Its kind of nice experience”

Finally he brought a bottle and cleaned it with a dirty rug. He looked at the label and was shocked to see the odd looking bottle made from olive-green glass. The liquid inside appeared to be pale gold. It was filled almost to the neck. The label read


***Glenavon ***
Special Liqueur Whisky Bottled by the Distillers

It was bottled in 1878.

He was shocked. He wasn’t interested in drinking it. Is was a collector’s item. Besides, the whisky is matured in casks not in the bottle. It may not be drinkable anyway. The poor villager, he wouldn’t know. Himesh smiled and asked the price.

“Take it Sir, its yours”
“No you must take something”. He reached for his purse and took a twenty ruppee note and handed it over.
The villager kept looking at the note as if he is seeing it for the first time.
Himesh felt uneasy at his reaction. He thought he had grossly underpaid the villager for a rare collector’s item and he said
“You want more. Tell me how much you want?”
“No Sir, what would I do with money”
“Then keep it as a gift”
Reassured the villager kept the note inside.

“…and do you have some regular whiskey.” Now he wanted his Mcdowell’ s. Enough of vintage whiskeys.
“No Sir, I’ve only old stock and some country liquor”
“Ok”

He pressed the bottle between his arm and body and climbed the stairs, carefully avoiding bumping his head. When he reached the shop the old man was sitting exactly as he had left him. The bon fire burned with same ferocity.

“So what did you bring?”
“That place don’t have a thing. All hundred year old items. Tell me how did they get this?”
“Its all British stuff”
“Oh..”
“He makes good country liquor though. I prefer that”
“never tasted it”
“I never tasted English liquor either. Show me”

The old man looked at the bottle from all side. Then he looked at the fire through the bottle and smiled. His face had such an innocence.
“Bhola, bring two glasses..” the old man called out.
“I’ll go don’t wake him up”
“no you sit here..I told you he doesn’t sleep”
Himesh was feeling sad for the kid but he promptly bought tow steel glasses.
“No..not these. Bring other ones” the old man said.
“You should tell me upfront. How would I know which ones” The boy kept mumbling as he went back.

Finally the old man got the glasses he wanted. Himesh was still not sure if they can actually drink that liquor. It was kept too long in a bottle. Before he could say anything the old man had opened the bottle. He poured a lid full and took it close to his nose.

“Its good” and then he sprinkled the whisky into the fire. The fire lapped it up quickly.
Himesh felt good that he won’t have to drink it but the next instant the old man had poured a glass for him.
“cheers”
“cheers” The thick glass made an odd sound.

Himesh waited for the old man to take first sip. The old man took few sips in quick succession.
“Ah..now this makes me warm” He said
Himesh couldn’t resist the temptation and took his first sip. It wasn’t as bad as he had imagined it to be. In few sips it started tasting like expensive scotch.

“You know when the car broke down I was feeling so afraid that I’ll have to wait till the morning” Himesh said
“The car broke down because you were afraid”
“no. I said I got afraid that the car broke down”
“may be both.” The old man laughed

“Fear..oh fear..we are so afraid of death.. it gets us anyway..waking..sleeping…Look at me..at this age I’ve seen death come and gone. And life keeps lurking around the corner. Waiting to capture me…like it did today”

“I feel so alive too” Himesh too felt philosophical after the first peg. The old man poured second.

“We were sleeping. My sleep gets broken if the sparrow flaps its wings. But that night the whole hill was rumbling. I thought the river will take us but the killer came from above”

Himesh was surprised how quickly he felt tipsy. The flickering bon fire was taking him into a hypnotic state.

“and who said when you depart you can’t take a thing from the world. We carried our dreams locked in our eyes”. The old man continued his scotch inspired monolog.

“And fire? Ha..Ha..even you couldn’t claim us..We were already claimed by the wet sand”. To Himesh , the words seemed far away like the sound of river. As pleasant. As meaningless.

“Get off my chest you lousy stone”
“what happened” Himesh was rocked from his half asleep state.
“haha..You slept.. No one sleeps here” The old man was in boisterous mood.
“Oh sorry..I just dozen off..This stuff is good”..The old man was poured the third glass.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a civil engineer at HMT”
“you are some sort of Sahib”
Himesh just smiled.
“Have you seen the new watch factory at Ranibag. We just finished the construction of the first unit” Himesh tried explaining.

The old man had presumably lost interest and started singing a Kumaoni song. The river gave a nice background music. Sleep reclaimed Himesh.

When he woke up the sun was shining on his eyes. His whole body ached. He felt completely dehydrated. He looked around but there was no one nearby. No fire, no shop, no scotch bottle and no old man. Himesh tried to recollect. “No it can’t be a dream”. He could even remember the path he had come from. He ran up and the car was there. He came down again and the scene was exactly same but there was no one. He walked up the river to the wine shop and there was nothing.

Himesh walked up the river and quenched his thirst. And slowly walked back wondering about last night. Then he thought about the broken down car. “Oh god where would I find a mechanic now?” He was frustrated. The he thought about the old man’s statement “The car broke down because you were afraid”. It made him smile. “Great..now it will start because I feel great”. He slipped into the driving seat. He turned the ignition key and the car started without a problem. After all that he had been thorough it didn’t surprise him.

Next month for doing the ground stability analysis, he got the reports about that region. Carelessly browsing through the report he chanced upon a report on landslide in Biirbhatti during colonial rule in 1880. For some reason the scientific report both excited and frightened him.

On the fateful night there were heavy rains and the rainfall record shows that the precipitation (211.83 mm) was almost one tenth of the total rainfall received in the year till that date (2176.01 mm). It was amid this abnormally high precipitation that the landslide initiated at an altitude of around 4500 feet in the upper reaches of the stream. Large number of uprooted trees and boulders apart from the debris came down rumbling along the steep slopes.

The concrete pedestrian bridge to the upstream of the point of diversion provided favorable site for all the material to collect and this material dammed the stream upstream of the axis of the bridge. The bridge could however not withstand the increasing hydrostatic pressure for long and gave way consequently. The gushing water got easy opportunity of ravaging along the straight line path following the abandoned course and eroded the limestone base of the hill with surprising alacrity. At around 3 in the morning the entire hill collapsed on the village down below. The records of the landslide in Macnabb Coll. O&IOC, British Library do not mention the number of causalities but the comment [the fate of the villagers sleeping in their houses was sealed] suggests that all of them died. In the loss of property section there are few entries like the wine godown and country liquor distillery and few tea shops.


“You want some tea” His wife asked.
Himesh wiped sweat from his forehead and meekly said “Yes”

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