A Tale of Two Tourists on a Weekend
Trip
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But they are certainly not made for Sudeep;
Who prefers his walks to be a stroll,
Along pretty little trails, or maybe the mall.
Ryan, on the other hand, is smitten
By the thick shrubbery and the mud that’s hidden;
Yes, the same mud that’s turned slippery in the rain,
And causes Sudeep to fall, not once but twice, and cry out in pain!
But one must be fair,
Or at least as fair as one can be;
To the characters of this tale,
Hearty drinkers of tea.
Sudeep has a lot of experience of holidays,
But sadly not of the trekking variety;
Which is why his shoes sparkle blue,
And may appear just a bit flighty.
They do well on walks,
Along paved roads and air-conditioned malls;
But put them on a slippery slope of mud,
And they are found to wail “Oh I am a dud!”
With five inches over Sudeep
(In height I mean),
The outdoorsy Ryan strides boldly forward.
Not unlike a determined moonbeam.
I am sure he is secretly relieved
At having discarded shorts in favor of jeans,
Especially when huge bushes graze his legs,
And he gets chased by leeches & bees!
An hour later as the weary trekkers return,
In the evening light that’s fading;
Ryan turns to Sudeep and, flashing that smile,
Exclaims “How invigorating”!
At the room, equilibrium is restored,
Over vodka, and martini, and chocolate…and more;
And the holiday continued on its vein,
Of being a compendium of experiences,
Some adventurous, some tame.
This was certainly not an impulsive trip,
It had been planned for months.
But the date and place had been recently decided
When, due to erroneous calculations,
Ramgarh came out trumps.
So Ryan and Sudeep started out from Delhi,
On Independence Day, when they hoped the roads would be empty;
Armed with pretty bags and lots of snacks,
Don’t smirk at their enthusiasm, cut them some slack!
For little they did know the nightmare that awaited them,
That started with a puncture,
And made Sudeep cluck like an irritated hen.
Then came traffic, of a size not seen before;
Not even the rancorous sound of the car horns,
Could drown out Ryan’s angry roars!
Long rows of cars stretched in front of toll booths,
Which turned up every few kilometers;
To turn the travelers from Delhi, and Gurgaon, and Noida,
Into queues that were long and bitter.
But the icing on the cake was still due,
And the cliché came true,
In the form of rains at Haldwani,
Such a downpour, it turned into a mini-tsunami!
Alas! The hills that day were not alive
With the sound of music;
Instead they bore mute witness,
To throngs of tourists that would soon lose it
13 hours after they started from Gurgaon,
They reached the resort, nestled in the green hills of Kumaon.
Their room was at the top of the hill,
With a view for which many would kill;
Unfortunately their room was also unlike any other,
We could even call it “Las Vegas meets Lajpat Nagar”.
The next two days made up for the journey,
Sunny and free of rain was the sky;
In the lush, green home of the famous Geetanjali,
Ryan & Sudeep stepped out with their heads held high J
They walked the long road to Neemrana Bungalows,
Where the setting was quaint and lunch delicious;
Along the way they halted at a sweet old library,
Home to Hindi literature, heaven for the reader voracious
A trip to Bhimtal was duly made,
With the obligatory boat ride and tea on the steps;
And to recover from the crowds & the aesthetic shockers,
Ryan made a beeline to the nursery and picked out their best.
There was of course the aforementioned trek,
And a few smaller excursions here & there;
But the agenda was largely of relaxation,
And, for Sudeep, to stay out of the sun’s glare.
Heavy tomes in bright colors were hungrily devoured,
In places as varied as the pool side and the loo;
Movie classics were also pulled out,
A musical, a comedy, and a drama too.
The daily food schedule was faithfully adhered to,
Despite the variations in quality and taste;
Supplemented by chai, coffee & “Madeira”,
As well as salted snacks & chocolates consumed in haste.
But the true charm of the weekend was in none of this,
It lay in the peaceful green of the hills;
The mists that rose, the brooks that bubbled,
The chill in the air, the silence that never troubled.
Now we prepare for the return to the choked city,
Praying for a comfortable journey as we start;
Leaving behind a weekend well documented in cameras,
And also occupying a place in our hearts.