MY TRIP TO MUSSOURIE

       (in the Himalayas,   India)

 -a travel writer writes about her experiences...  

 

To escape from the beating heat of the sun our family had planned to go on a short expedition to Mussourie,the queen of hillstations . it was decided in well advance to travel by air from madurai to delhi and by train from delhi to dehradun. early one morning our family comprising of my father,mother and me reached the madurai airport.this was my first tour by air and I had great expectations.though it was madurai the port was packed with many delhi faces .each face had a sophisticated look.i was longing to take a look at the bookshops but we had no time as we had to hurry for our flight.the flight was totally different from what I had imagined.till then ihad actually thought the flight to be monstrous with giant sized wings on either sides.but the flight in which we were to travel was the jet airways which was small and compact. I was greatly fascinated by the hospitality of the airhostess. initially I listened to their instructions about wearing the lifeboat with extrodinary interest.but gradually my interests began to fade as I got bored up with the same thing repeated in consequetive flights. the air inside the machine was cool and scented.to top it all we were served with the most delicious dishes.being a south Indian I preferred idli,sambhar and a good coffee with extra creaming.we had a typical south Indian dish as ihad expected. the journey was really short that I could not even observe my fellow passengers. within fraction of seconds we had arrived at the Chennai airport. a bus belonging to the respective air lines took us to the main airport.our next flight was to start at 1oclock.ihad an opportunity to browse through the Higginbotham's. the security guards at the gates were strict or at least posing to be strict. while glancing at the board I noticed that the private ones were dominating the scene.but to say the truth the private airways responded more effectively than the government airlines. our baggage's were checked and we our selves underwent the scanning.the guards confiscated a very old steel scissors from my backpack which i had kept it for cutting the podi packets .as mussourie was a hillresort in the north I deduced that the soth Indian podis would give a refreshing for our stay in mussourie.i saw an old couple being taken in wheel chairs to the flight for boarding. what amused me the most was the granny was cursing old grandpa even at the time of boarding. very soon we boarded the flight to Delhi. the delhi flight was the same as the Chennai flight.

Then we were unable to munch the paranthas served for lunch.i was greatly disappointed as I had expected to see wonders during our travel from south to the extreme north but what I could see was nothing but the green and brown landscape.i had butter flies in my stomach when the flight swooped down right from the skies and landed on the pavement with a violent jerk.the minister of information and technology,mr.dayanidimaran was one among the passangers who accompanied us to delhi.the delhi airport was buzzling with activity and nobody cared to take a glimpse of the minister.the most enchanting sight which caught my eyes was the array of planes and air crafts stationed in the airport.as soon as we entered the air port I noticed several trolleys arranged one behind the other.i took one of the trolleys and collected our baggage which came by the rolling deck.my father and mother who had gone to call a taxi joined me near the rolling deck.towards evening we hired ataxi to go to my uncle’s house.his place was located in the saint martin marg.our taxi driver took us to an old rickety mansion which proved to be the house of mr.singh.according to my father it seemed to be an old fashioned booth bangla.we at once realized our mistake that we had entered into the wrong street and with the help of the watchman the driver located the correct place.the entire colony consisted of similar houses painted in refreshing red colour.as the trains were in red colour it well suited the colour of the railway colony.though my uncle was the chief railway commissioner we found it difficult to distinguish his house from the others.on entering the bungalow we noticed a maid in grey sarree staring at us with queer eyes.she found it difficult to comprehend from where we had come.but soon she became comfortable when my papa spoke in her native.my uncle’s daughter rushed down stairs on hearing the door bell.since my uncle was a little distant to me I was seeing his daughter for the first time.she was dressed in loose pants and t-shirts with a fountain hair do at the top.she was in her twenties and had a disarming smile which took one’s heart by storm.she humbly admitted to us that she knew a bit of cooking and politely enquired whether we would like to have a chai.though her hospitality was over whelming we replied in the negative as we had taken a stomach filling lunch during our travel.

when my parents were asking about her college life and her studies I was struck with wonder on seeing the art pieces that adorned the wall.A couple of huge flower vases stood at the entrance which had minute and intricate carvings all over them.the heavy wooden charka in scarlet hung on the wall made me riveted to the spot.the show case was filled with numerous art collections in bronze,silver and even in gold.as though i was being punished for admiring the beauty I had a severe stomach ache at the nick of the moment.my cousin soon went back to her room for continuing her studies as she had some competitive exam the following day.very soon her sister who had gone to play tennis came in accompanied by the bungalow peon asish.she was wearing shorts and was more well built than her sibling.i could not talk much to her as my stomach was paining intensely.the cook asish gave me a glass of jal jeera which cured my stomach ache immediately.their house remained cool inspite of the terrible heat outside.it was so cool that the glass of hot jal jeera which asish brought turnt cold.around seven in the evening we all had our dinner.fulka chapattis with aloo spiced with jeera were made specially for me.the others took rice along with a variety of vegetable curries.soon my uncle arrived and had a small chat with us in the verandah.asish was ordered to serve us a plate of delicious sweets and savories. my uncle and my mother were reminiscising their olden days.within a short span we had to bade them goodbye as it was time for our train.a taxi wala took us to the station and on the way he showed us some of the famous monuments of delhi such as the India gate,red fort and other places.we were to catch our train in the old delhi station.the station was in complete ruins.it was one of the oldest railway stations I had ever seen in my life.to further worsen our state the air was dusty and polluted and whenever a train would pass it sent huge piles of dust into our eyes.my mother was a chronic asthma patient and the dusty atmosphere further aggrevated her disease.we were relieved when we saw our train fast approaching towards us.the train came with an enormous speed and stopped with a screeching halt.we identified our compartment and the porter wala carried our bulk cargo into the train.i greatly admire his will power and strength in lifting the bulky loads.he was a half starved old coolie wearing a torn red shirt.i felt that he was a man of incorruptible sincerety and one who had true passion for his own job.it took some time for the train to start.meanwhile we had got well acquainted with the coolie that I had even got blessings from him before our departure.once we were inside the second class ac chair car we soon forgot about the dusty surroundings around us.opposite to us sat an old couple from delhi who were abandoned by their children.dadaji’s wife old dadima was a very enterprising lady who was going on giving suggestions to us from time to time about our stay in mussourie.
initially we had a confusion whether to spell it as massorie or mussourie.but soon we got rid of it as people began to speak with each other in an all knowing manner pronouncing it as massorie.infact the train in which we were traveling to dehradun was named as the massorie express.the old dada didn’t speak much.but when he spoke a few words they were meaningful.he opened a parcel folded with silver foil paper containing a few rotis and sabji.he and his wife started eating them making delicious munching sounds which indicated that they really enjoyed their food.when dadaji was silently chewing the rotis his wife talked about her childhood days boasting endlessly about the pranks she had played on her fellow mates.dadaji was an engineer by profession and dadima had completed her higher studies in Mumbai.from their conversation we learnt that they had resided in haridwar for about seven years.dadaji admitted that they had come to south once on a pilgrimage to visit the temples of Chidambaram and tanjore.he managed to pronounce the names of the tamil gods and goddesses with great difficulty but with sincere effort!the continuous travel had made me tired and I was dying to take rest.within a few seconds the lights were switched off and the spotless curtains were drawn across the windows.i was to sleep in the upper birth with the sweaters,shawls and blankets piled up over me.a good number of sick people also traveled along with us in the train and they started feeling uncomfortable due to the high intensity of the chillness.so the air conditioner was kept low.this made me sweat as I was completely wrapped up in the woolen wear.slowly unnoticed by my mother I began to remove the blankets and slept with a thin bed sheet covering me.suddenly I felt as though something was moving in front of me.later I realized that it was the face of dadaji who was advicing me to wear the blankets as it would turn cold during the midnight.his firm but kind advice made me go into the blankets at once.the next thing I knew was when my papa was waking me to have some refreshments. As I got up I saw dadaji and dadima’s friendly gestures asking me to get down.i wondered whether the couple had ever slept.when I walked to my seat brushing past dadaji he distinctly whispered a few words in my ears”was it cold?”which I had responded with a positive nod.we had our morning refreshments in the sahibabad railway station.from there one could get an appealing look of the majestic shiwalik hills.it was as though I had been in a dream with colourful trees,majestic mountains,pink cheeked babies and white faced children around me.at that moment dadaji approached my father with short quick steps as though he was in a hurry.he informed papa that they had to get down at haridwar instead of dehradun  as the t.t was not to be found.i was extremely puzzled regarding dadaji’s crisis but papa explained to me that dadaji had planned to extend his tour to dehradun but that he was unable to do so.the train was heading towards haridwar with the typical thuk-thuk noise.it passed under several caves and on either side I was able to witness dense foliage covering the entire landscape papa took me to the uncovered entrance of the moving train.i was flabbergasted by the enthralling view around us.but as I had reached the edge of the door step the sight became fearsome turning my heart cold.i had already seen this sight several times in horror movies when the hero used to jump from the train along with the heroine.           

I got bored up of eating snacks and chips that I felt like lending my ears to some good melody.it was lovely to sit by the window side and enjoy the mesmerizing tunes.the train soon halted at the dehradun station which was not so crowdy as I had thought.the people were talking in quick and urgent whispers with naughty children running amuck on the platforms.the shouts and cries of the porters and taxi walas filled the air charging it with excitement.one of the taxi walas directed us towards his taxi among a group of taxis.i had observed in delhi as well as in dehradun that compressed natural gas(cng)was filled in all vehicles unlike south India where petrol and diesel are the common fuels used.but this improvement in science was bound to reduce pollution atleast by three-fourths and I hope that the government would soon implement this innovation in the south too.while I was deeply engaged in my own thoughts a sharp racket had aroused between my father and the taxi wala.my father was demanding him to reduce the fares for which the latter replied haughtily vigorously pointing a finger towards a green board.i screwed my eyes to have a better look at the board which showed three columns describing the name of the vehicle,the place,thefares in a neat manner.

we were finally on board the vehicle after another person had agreed to share the vehicle with us.it did not take a longer time to reach mussourie.infact mussourie was a hill right above dehradun with a number of hairpin bends!it was a thrilling experience to travel uphill with deep valleys on either side of us.indeed it was frightening to see the gigantic depressions on the either side which were not even covered with protective barriers.i was greatly shocked by the bare roads without boards and placards indicating the u-turns and hairpinbends.after traveling for about half an hour we soon came across a pile of hotels,restaurants and houses neatly stacked upon each other.oh what a sight it was!amidst the capturing green mountains the terraced cultivations seemed like a boon in disguise!the most heart broking part of the life in mussourie is the winter snow falls during which the people are devoid of employment for most part of the year.the hotel in which we were to stay was an ordinary middle class hotel named dharpan.the way to the hotel was packed with stalls and mouth watering chaya shops on either side.that place was popularly described by the tourists as the mall.whenever a mussourie resident or the guide talked about the mall one could see a glow in his eyes.soon we were sitting in the cosy sofas of the hotel.the room boy informed us that we were to stay in the reception lobby for a few minutes as our room had to be cleaned.in the reception area I noticed some of the most fascinating sceneries depicting the dazzling Himalayan mountain ranges.our room was neither big nor small.the room by itself was compact and comfortable with a magnificient view of the mountains.that room had been reserved for my father by the bank,my father being a bank employee.i threw myself on the pretty cot amidst the bedsheets and soon fell asleep.the travel had made me hungry and jumpy whilst my papa was busy enquiring the bearer about the food.there was a pretty verandah at the front of our room which had a black teak wood table with four or five chairs surrounding it.i could see only north Indian delicacies in the menu card which was placed on the table in front of us.mussourie,being a place in the north we should not expect them to make hot dosas and idlis.the rotis tasted excellent.the dhal,the paalak paneer and the alu gobi were delicious to take along with the rotis.the room had a double cot and a pair of single cots and the floor covered by a thick carpet.a pair of chests and the dressing table occupied the rear end of the room.the room was well furnished except the curtains which seemed dirty.we all took a refreshing bath followed by a short nap.the evenings were much cooler.there was no sign of the sun to be seen.papa and I went to the terrace and had a enthralling view of the paradise of snow with our binoculars.we took a handful of snaps with our camera with mom and i posing against the mighty barriers.the time was running faster than ever and very soon we were sitting at the table for our dinner.nobody felt really hungry after the hearty lunch we had that afternoon.the long and weary night finally ended and we were woken up by the colourful morning birds which we were perched on the tree tops.the second day of our arrival  found us much more busy than the first.we had our usual morning breakfast and then we went for a walk in the crowded streets of mussourie.pooh!what a tough time we had!the mall was so narrow that we found it difficult to take a single step without hitting a racing vehicle.the mall was a busy place with shops selling all kinds of stuff.walking a few miles away from the mall the air turned cool and pleasant with spacious restaurants which had artificial coconut trees fitted with lighting arrangements.some of the items sold in the mall were exquisite pieces that bore expensive price tags.as we were strolling casually on the busy streets we came across a taxi stand.

papa questioned the taxi wala regarding the places worth sight seeing in mussourie.the latter mentioned a few places that included the mandir,boat riding,thecable car and the viewpoint.after a tough bargain the taxi wala agreed to take us to the following places.early next morning there was another family in the hotel occupying the two successive rooms next to ours.we had learnt from ramesh bhaiyya(the hotel bearer)that the next two rooms were also reserved for the employees working in the same bank as my father but by those who were in the northzone.the new family had four members accompanied by the driver.we soon got ourselves introduced.Mr.choudhary was a man of fiftyfive who wore a cool and composed look.Mrs.choudhary seemed to be a cheerful lady with shining eyes.little choudhary or chotu choudhary as he was called was a cute kid of seven with brimming intelligence.the last member of the family was apurva choudhary and as the name suggests he was indeed unique.he was a mentally retarded kid of ten who could only make a few funny noises,call out mama ,papa and could clap his hands vigorously.i greatly admired the courage of the choudharis in bringing up the child looking at him as god’s incarnation and not as a bundle of burden.we got totally engrossed in the morning happenings that we forgot our appointments with the taxi driver.we rushed out on hearing the taxi horns and within a fraction of seconds the taxi was heading towards Dhanaulty.Dhanaulty was a beautiful place uphill that blossomed with lots of enchanting flowers and godas(horses).the taxi came to a halt and the godawalas were waiting in large numbers with their godas to take us to the view point.three horses a black one for me and two brownies for appa and amma were hired.it was a wonderful and terrific ride to the hill top.mama and me were really adventurous but papa was scared out of his wits especially when the animal went near the cliff edge and was about to fall.the view point was great !the view from the hilltop was amazing and we took a couple of shots to make the trip a real success.on the way back the goda wala showed us the apple orchards which blossomed with juicy apples.i’ve never seen an apple orchard before and that one was indeed charming.the goda wala seemed to be a nice chap.from my poor knowledge of the language I managed to trigger out a few questions in their native which were answered in a very prompt manner by the chap.he was speaking rapidly in an experienced tone but I figured out only a part of it.i even asked him the name of the goda for which he replied “vijay”.but later I had a doubt whether he had given me the name of the horse or his own!after having a cup of tea we continued our journey to the surkunda devi temple.the mandir was not far off but it was situated on the hilltop at a height of about four hundred feet.we had a similar temple in then south but there we had a winch service to take safely and comfortably to the hill top.though we had not reached the mandir we took a series of wonderful shots on the way to the mandir.our next spot was the Lal Dibba which was an exciting spot from where one could see the entire Himalayas in a bird’s eye view.There were a gigantic pair of binoculars at the terrace which was situated on the third floor.i noted several remarkable pieces including the Dalai lama temple,the dense forests,the Airforce school,the Buddha temple.I even saw a small temple with a priest in it and girls playing basket ball.I was gung-ho to see the far away sights in a detailed manner as though I was standing right in front of them.The old couple who owned the lal dibba were very talkative and talked about all sorts of things including child abuses in the south.My papa who was thoroughly enjoying himself even sang a old hindi song to entertain the couple.I got bored of those old-fashioned topics and started walking in unsteady strides towards the taxi.The trip for the first day finally ended with us returning to the hotel.Unlike papa I got bored in no time eating the north Indian dishes.So I ordered rice and ate it with the mouth watering podis which I had been saving so long.The travel all day had me tired that soon I got myself curled up in one of the coziest bed sheets of the world!The evenings in mussourie were special as people and pets thronged in large numbers in the streets.It was a bright evening for shopping in the stalls.I bought a good number of books,a few accessories and a pretty salwaar kameez.Though we normally have an impression of the north indians wearing salwaar kameez most of the time the visit to mussourie had changed my opinion.Not only teenage girls flocked in large numbers wrapping themselves in tight jeans and t-shirts, even old dadimas seemed to suffocate in one of the modern dresses!The nights were unusually bright like precious garments adorned with rubies and emeralds!The following day we had planned to visit the chair car and the city baagh.We had to walk a long distance to reach the chair car station as no vehicle was allowed in the streets,even rikshaws.perhaps this was the reason behind the clean surroundings which mussourie enjoyed.Inside the cable chair car it was extremely hot.There was a perplexed look on the faces of the persons who accompanied us due to the sudden change of climate.The car led us straight into the markets stationed up hill.What a sight met our eyes!There were shops selling different things streaming with activity.I bought some nice gifts for my grand ma and joined my papa and mama who were sipping the cool and refreshing pineapple juices.
The next stall to which we were to go was the best part of the trip.It was the Garhwali costume shop.Whew!what a grand collection the man had!Though I was not particularly interested my mother forced me to try one of the dresses.Lucky for me we were not given the choice of selecting the costume as I was sure to be in a dilemma as to choose which one.The shop keeper made me to change into a gorgeous red costume and took me by the hand to a beautiful place.we had to get down a few steps to reach that most captivating spot on earth!The air was cool and wore a serene look awaiting us to the Eden of Bliss.How wonderful I looked in that costume! The stall wala took some exhilarating snaps of me on the back ground of  nature which were later handed over to my father.The shop keeper commented that the silver ear rings and the red costume suited me well and he even forced my mother to try one of those.The magic stall was also a good one and the shop keeper also taught me a number of  mind boggling tricks.But the only thing that troubled me the most was that the guy was explaining the tricks in fluent hindi and I couldn’t make head or tail out of his lectures.After entertaining ourselves for a few hours we arrived at the cable car station to wait for the next trip.Papa made the entire gang inside the car burst into laughter by cracking one of his silly jokes.The tiny tots who were having a tough time fighting against the severe heat threw themselves into fits of laughter on seeing papa’s funny gestures.Papa knows to handle kids very well even if there were many of them.Though we were together only  for a few minutes when the cable car came to a halt everyone of us in the car felt miserable.We had planned to go to the city baagh next which was a long way up hill.Appa had no idea about the distance.On enquiring we learned that it was about six kms far.One particular rikshawala was eager to take us to the place in the anticipation of money.So it was decided to board the rikshaw finally.There was a small additional seat put specially for the children at the back of the rickshaw.But I was too big to sit in small couches despite my protests the rikshaw wala consoled me that it would take only a few hours to travel.Father and mother sat on the main seat and I was couhed behind them with my legs nearly touching the road.The road had a number of pits and holes which further worsened my situation.Whew!i was nearly hit when a huge maruthi van came speeding across the road.That was a scary experience!no longer could I travel crouched upon at the back.

finally my ma came up with a bright idea that we should take up one more rikshaw.but the rikshaw wala did not like this and instead he came up with the suggestion that I could be seated on the back seat itself but with my legs squeezed on the other side in between my father and mother.i myself gave a warm approval to his suggestion and agreed to be seated in that manner.that seemed more comfortable except that the wooden plank’s edge was pricking against my back.Befote I could make a fuss about it we arrived at the destination.It was a heavenly place with a huge array of enchanting flowers.the sight which stunned me the most was the mechanical giant wheel.Though the name appears to be understandable it was a frightening sight to see the magnanimous giant wheel being rotated by a boy running continuously in its spokes.The boy was apparently jumping from one spoke to the other thus making the wheel move ferociously.Before we could applaud his courage he jumped rapidly clinging himself to one of the seats and getting himself seated comfortably.That was followed by another lad of the similar age performing the same feat.Mama was nearly moved to tears thinking of the dangerous moves the young ones had to face inorder to eke out a living.Except us it was a familiar sight to the tourists who watched their children open mouthed as they went up and down the enomous wheel.Taking a few more steps we came across the boating area.It was a wonderful small pond with boats of three kinds.Each boat could accommodate only two of the tourists and that was the reason for my mother not accompanying us.As papa was stronger than her it would be easy for both us to row through the blue waters.We opted for the duck boat which was the costliest among the three.Appa was to handle with the gear as I had no idea how to operate the gear.Each time we used to dash on the side walls and pa would ask me to push the walls with all my strength thus making the boat move.It was a memorable experience and we had even taken a photo of our selves.As we were rowing I heard a familiar voice calling”didi”.It was none other than the small chotu who had come to that place along with guttu and his parents.Papa and I waved to him as he disappeared among the bushes to join his family.That small imp was very fond of his brother and he used to kiss him and hug him like a small puppy.chotu’s family also went to visit many places like us but their main purpose if visit was to give some medical treatment to guttu.mussourie was famous for the kerala ayurvedic treatment.strange it is to know that the south Indian state had become popular in the north.soon we had joined mama who was waiting in one of the chairs near the boating area.near the hotel area a miscellaneous collection of wooden items were being sold.we bought a few wooden bowls,spoons and a nice pencil box for me.our riksha wala was waiting to take us.he rode a little bit faster which frightened us as the roads were not railrd and we were bound to fall to the scary depths.people raced past us in their luxurious cars with an air of pride and looked at us as though we were no were near them.in a particular vehicle each and everyone had that condescending look ranging from men to babies!as we neared the mall it started drizzling.when we reached the riksha area it was pouring in cats and dogs!after paying to the riksha wala we started walking towards the hotel which was a long way down.suddenly wwe came across a huge textile paradise and amma and I had the idea of buying some clothes.that was a magnificent palace owned by the sardajis.we saw a enormous pile of sweaters of various colours and designs which were attracting several tourists.on going to the first floor of the complex we entered into the hall of the fascinating ready maqde collections.i bought a pretty short churidar and after the payment was over we reached thre main hall.since amma found it difficult to walk due to her wheezing problem the owner of that shop had requested one of the boys working in his shop to leave ma in his scooter.how grateful we were to that man!i found a graet contrast between the south and the north in tgheir helping attitude.soon after reaching the hotel we took rest for a few minutes.then there was a good movie at about eight o clock and we were prepared to watch the feature film on our television screen.the film was indeed a nice one but a bit lengthy.tghe movie ended around one o clock followed by our sound sleep.the next day was not a busy one as we had completed our traveling plans.we sat to breakfast and there was chotu’s family.very soon the photo wala arrived delivering the snaps we took the previous day.chotu’s ma was delighted on seeing the snaps and had made up her mind to take chotu to the garwali coyume fair.appa stroked gottu gently and was comforted him by saying that he was a very cute kid and so on.chotu and guttu werea a mixture of opposites.though chotu gottu was deprived of his mental intelligence chotu was child prodigy.naturally guttu would feel left out as everyone would pamper chotu as he was a child genius.his parents were also conscious of their words and they wouldn,t say anything which would hurt guttu.amma was enquiring chotu about his school,his friends and his merits.the kid was in class four hough he waqs aged only seven.he even recited a hindi poetry with its meaning and was brilliant in his general knowledge too.after the family had gone to do ouyting I asked pa a question which was nagging my heart.i had observed papa patting guttu and speaking to him in a way that he was more impotant than chotu.i had a doubt whether conversing continuously with the kid would gradually change his behavior to normalcy.but ma expressed her dissidence as she felt that the child had mental aberrations and that it would be difficult to bring him back to normalcy.however I had a stromg feeling that it would definitely have an impact on the kids behavior.the day had gone fast and I was engaged in reading a thrilling book.the book was titled `the Bermuda triangle`and was all about the mtsterious triangle in the atlantic and it s secrets.i was deeply engrossed in the novel that I had forgotten to have my lunch.the dissapearence of the ships and planes was indeed mysterious though presently that route is being avoided in order to ensure safety.imbought that book and a few o5hers in an old book shop owned by a poor couplr in mussourie.they had all sorts of nice books rangini from comics to scientific encyclopedias.hat night appa settled the accounts with ramesh bhaiyya for our meals as we were leaving mussourie the following day.i was a bit sad but at the same time I felt happy on envisaging the sight of seeing my grandma and my own,own home town.that night we were very busy packing our things and saying parting byes to the family next door.the next morning chotus family bade good bye to us and theyb were off toi delhi.since morning I was feeling a bit feverish and I couldnot even take my break fast.then around ten o clok we were all set for our taxi teravel to dehradun.papa thanked the whole hotel team including ramesh bhaiyya for their outstanding service and gave them a hundred rupee note each.on our down hill jouney to dehradun I felt a bit giddy.the taxi driver was informing papa about the sasradara falls,a nice place to visit in dehradun.we had ample time for our train and appa himself was wondering whether to opt for sight seeing or to take rest in the station itself.i could stand it no longer and I asked the driver to stop the car as I had to vomit.though we continued our travel I was no longer feeling better and  I had to vomit every ten minutes.on our way to dehradun there was a  fine looking siva temple.we decided to halt there for a few secnds just to give me a break.once insidev the temple the view of the deities were striking.apart from the idols ther was a gorgeous display of ornaments of different types particularly silver and pearl ornaments stole our attention.

travelling further for about an hour we had reached the sasradara falls.there I drank a glass of limca just to freshen myself.soon appa,amma and I were huddled together seated in the tiny hotel behind the falls.oh what a view we had from that hotel!people were waddleing in the waters with water gushing over their heads with great force.but it was a much smaller one than the pabanasam or the courtallam of the south.we could no longer stand the desire to waddle and very soon we were seated on one of the rocks gently washing ourselves with the cool water.appa and I were making funny comments about the people toddling in the blues.let me narrate you a few incidents.a fat bellied over confident chap with his newly married wife was walking over the rocks to get into the water.after analyzing the rocks fot a few minutes as which one was perfect to step on he finally chose a particular rock and told his wife to follow him with an air of pride.but as ill luck would favour he had a nasty fall and he went right into the water asc that was aslippery rock.and another guywho was around his thirties was an over cautious one.he and his wife were keeping slow strides and were measuring  the water as though they had come all the way jut to experiment the water.it also reminded me of the heroes who would protect the heroines and safeguard them from enduring unwanted risks.one more remarkable feature of the falls was that the water in the falls had large amounts of sulphur in it.an old woman was rinsing her injured arm with the sulphur jal with the belief that it would soon be recurred.it is true that sulphur possesses healing properties.the falls was indeed a flamboyant one.as I was too giddy to visit other places in dehradun we directly went to the station.the railway station was a small and neat with a common rest room for travelers to wait in.but there were two or three of the independent rooms being reserved specially for the vip’s.my uncle being the chief commissioner for the railways it was easy for us to get one of the rooms without much difficulty.the room was big in size and was thoroughly furnished with two cots, a bureau, a chest of drawers and a comfortable sofa.from its dusty appearance I deduced that it had not be in use for a considerable period of time.the wash basins and closets were not being properly maintained.as I had not taken anything solid since the morning I was awaiting my lunch.though my father told me that it was wise to have rotis or some other north Indian stuff I pestered him to get me some south Indian food as the latter would be effort less to digest.after about an hour pa tensely arrived holding a paper bag.he complained that he had to walk a kilometer to get the food and scolded me that it wasn’t so easy as I had thought.i was touched by his concern and swore within myself that I would never fight with him there after.the food was awful that I would have preffered eating a stone.after an unsatisfied meal I was all set to take a short nap.minutes before I was I was awake the sound of the train came jarring right into my ears.i was woken up by the sudden noise and saw my mom lying in the cot near me with her eyes open.the station was charged with excitrement and people were speeding across the platforms.amma and I were sitting on the bench outside and we were busy watching the crowds.still we had three hours left for our train to delhi.ours was a two tyre compartment and we had our seats already confirmed by my uncle.oh!what a messy sight we saw when populace were rushing in pullimg and pushing each other to board a particular compartment.the commotion arose due to the non confirmation of seats.though we had seats confirmed they were too far and moreover as I was suffering from fever my mom or dad had to be near me in need of some help.and now to write about the mysterious characters!there was an old man who sat exactly opposite to me.he was elegant in his dressing and perfect in his diction. My dad was enquiring him about exchanging his seat with my father for which he readily agreed.when mom and dad were busily chatting the man suddenly vanished and was to be seen nowhere.the other two mysterious characters were two gals who sat in the seat next to us on the other side of the path way.
after a long debate it was decided that I was to sleep in their seat.though I lay there closing my eyes my ears were all straightened to catch their words.one of them were quarelling with the other blaming her that she had spent her money lavishly.it was incredulous to hear young girls bothered about money.their voices didn’t seem to talk about hard earned money and ma and I had a feeling that they were drug dealers.sadly that profession is haunting the lives of many Indians.when I woke up I was amazed to see the red wonder passing past us.the red fort,how marvelous and colossal it was.soon we were at the delhi air port and the flightb to Chennai was to take us in an hour.one of the celebrities,a popular singer in the doordharshan met us in the air port as she was longing to meet a south Indian family.we found it difficult to identify her though we got well acquainted to her as a citizen of Chennai.on board the break fast was light and I ate bread butter and a spoon of veg.salad.once in Chennai I was really glad of reaching my home land.we had reached the air port around one o clock and still we had about seven hours for our flight to madurai.imagine my surprise,standing aloof amidst the crowds was the famous director cheran.nobody seemed to recognize him.the taj restaurant inside the airport was a very posh one and we had to go there as there were no other restaurants nearby.it had a sophisticated atmosphere and though it was a restaurant in Chennai it wasn’t designed for the common man.the menu card had all sorts of English and French dishes but locating a south ijndian delicacy was such a tough job.atlast we ordered a bowl of rice and dhal for pa and me.a bowl of curd rice was bought for my mother.she ate it heartily unaware of the costs.an ordinary bowl of curd rice costed hundered rupees.that nearly took all our time and it wasw around three o clock as we finished our lunch.the security guards proved to be a real menace.we had wanted to ring grand pa and infom him of our arrival but each time we went out of our staying place the guard at the gate would enquire us about our where abouts.ma and I gound it difficult to locate a std booth.so we began to try our luck at the local call booth which demanded a coin each time.we finally gave up the idea of telephoning and reached our lobby.suddenly ma spotted a telephone boot[std]around the corner and again we had to cross the guard.a crowd was to go past him and we felt that that was our chance to move along but the eagle eyed spotted us amidst the crowd and re-began his enquiry.but to our dismay that booth was closed. however my father located the correct one and we spoke to our grand parents informing them of our arrival and asking them to send our car to the air port.the plane journey during the night was wonderful and I could observe the stars flickering around us.it was an odd sight to see the moon flickering due to the lightning and thunder.one of the families accompanying us was an interesting one.it was a huge party which was accompanying a newly married couple to visit the temple city.the newly married bridegroom was the person who stole our attention with his pompous ways.it seemed that he was working in usa and had married a girl from Chennai .at his own cost he was bringing his entire family by flight.he behaved as if the whole flight was his own and that he knew all about flights.the firstr seat was occupied by his wife and him followed by his mom and his sisters daughter in the next.his father was sitting neat my dad and his sister and her husband ,the one next to my dad,s.though the pilot had ordered everone to put on their seat belts this bragger turned back to look after his mom every ten minutes just to show off to his wife that he cared his mom more than anybody else.to boast that h e knew every inch of the plane he switched on the alarm bell thinking that to be the reading lights.the air hostess had him warned that he should not be tampering with the belkl toooften except in the need of her real help.that incident just shut his mouth tight but it did not end his bragging.giving undue importance to himself he asked his sis daughtert whowas busy colouring the picture given by the airhostess, “whose marriage took place in perambur?”the child never thought that marriage to b an important one and expressed her view in the negative.the boaster feeling embarrassed was relieved that nobody noticed the kid’s reply.another family had two kids who had come from us to spend their holidays with their grandparents in madurai.those two kids especially the younger one was continuously imitating the pilot when he gave the instructions in his his American accent.often I found it difficult to differentiate between the two voices though one sounded much younger.on the whole the journey to madurai was enjoyable.the plane landed around eight o clock and we were driven back home by our loyal driver who was busy narrating the tantrums thrown by my grand parents.do you wonder why?but that is what my second book is all about.so here is where I must take leave of you.my advice (just a friendly one)to you is:” the more the tours you go the happier you will be! “

BON VOYAGE! 

   AU REVOIR !


P.MANISHA ,India 

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index-

Mussoorie, in the Himalayas

-how to get there ?

Essay on the trip to Mussoorie -
by a young writer
 

the romance of the himalayas,
never dies from our souls,
once you visit.
 
 

TRAVEL

FOTOS

 INDIA

Scenes at Mussoorie Apr2003

the hills with houses

good visiting companions for your children



 

the chair car way is short and good,
 it takes to a small hill  top with shops there...







 

walks in the early morning are pleasant

one can sit for some hours
staring into the vast horizons

 to ease of the stress of the mind and
our ordinary workdays








 

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OTHER FOTOS:

the south indian Tenkasi backgrounds
 are good with

western ghats in the distance

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our travel agents,  reliable:

SHANTHI CABS

Tamilnadu, India in Madurai they are providing cabs, ticket booking for all modes of transport for Tourism and Travelling. We are thankful to them for arranging prompt booking of tickets from Madurai to Mussorie and Back comfortably.

Their phone  for contact --0452 2340065

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HOW TO TRAVEL

 THERE ?  

YOU CAN GO TO MUSSOORIE, an unspoilt innocent hill town on the Himalayas for peaceful relaxed stay with comfort.

From Delhi you can take a train to Dehra Dun at night about 10pm book a sleeper birth and the train drops you at Dehra Dun bottom of the hill at about 7.30am. You can take a good and nominal cost  breakfast if you walk a little into the nearby town, Dehra Dun. People are not found to be of cheating type. Of course it depends on many factors, if you open purse and count big notes in front of all the people who are living with much poorer economics, you will be inviting trouble anywhere.

You can take a taxi to Mussoorie, the hill station,
or
if you are alone and if you want to be with people and if you have less luggage, you can ride the old type ill managed bus services of the State, like every where in Asia.

At Mussoorie you can go to good hotels like Darpan, or very costlier hotels, all are good.

Taxies can be engaged from lodge, for visits to nearby places of visit or go by tourist buses with all people and company.

If you want to see all the places nearby it will have 2 weeks stay with adequate leisure at room.

If you want to hurry minimum you got to spend 2 days visiting important places and skipping many. All places are simple places not worth with any special features. What can be enjoyed is the hill life, the breeze, the food, the people, and roads, the travel on curved roads, and some old temples worth seeing.

Dont miss a horse ride on hills in some places.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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D.Parameswaran, 56 yrs, male, awarded poet,
 yoga propagandist,  INDIA

D . PARAMESWARAN , AUTHOR OF THIS  SITE  


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