A Commotion of Emotions

I had a friend. And that friend became my lover. He was my lover for eight years. He used to write amorous and devotional poems in my honor. Waking up from my sleep in the middle of the night, I would find him lovingly stroking my hair or massaging my feet. He would buy me all kinds of gifts. He would listen for hours to my sob stories and offer me his shoulder. He taught me to dream, and he taught me to laugh again. He held my hand and brought me on the path to recovery.

That man was my dream. The love was a fantasy. I felt blessed. I felt fulfilled and contented. The man became my anchor in the storm of life.

Time, the unbeatable villain struck my happiness. The love of tender and starry-eyed poems, of stroking my hair and of unending adulation has remained frozen in some long lost moments. The fantasy melted.

I reconciled to reality as I struggled with my understanding of the changing world. The dust began to settle down. Then a breeze blew. It was fresh. It was unsettling. It took away some of the dust. The heart was exposed. New desires stemmed in. Confusion brewed. Commotion of emotions happened.

Landslides, tourists, traffic and Government

Loaded with sandwiches and other goodies, I set off for Dhanaulti, on the morning of 15^th August. Since this was my first driving trip with my mother, I was brimming with excitement. We left early in the morning at 4.30 am to evade the barrage of mad vacationers’ rushing to nearby tourist destinations on this rare extended weekend. At 12.15 pm, we were driving up the gradually curving slopes of the Mussorie hill, happy in the knowledge that we had managed to beat the traffic and would reach just in time to order a hot, piping lunch at a road side Dhaba in Dhanaulti. The cool, richly fragrant mountain air had just begun to hit our senses when it started to pour outside. In just a short time, the windshield wipers were no match for the torrential downpour.

Just 10 kms outside Mussorie, we saw a random few cars turning back. Upon enquiry, the person at the toll post informed us that there had been a major landslide ahead and it was best advised to turn back. While the landslide washed away our holiday happiness, we absorbed the news and turned back the car promptly.  

We decided to stop at a Dhaba for lunch and keep a watch on the situation. However, most of the eating places on the way had closed down due to the rains and we had to drive down all the way back to the foot of the mountain. Over the next hour, we were horrified as we watched an endless stream of cars beginning their slow, steady climb towards Mussorie. There were all sorts of faces staring at us – young, couples in love, families with small kids and old parents laughing at shared jokes, groups of friends singing songs, and locals on their way for some business activities.

By the time, we had finished with our lunch, the traffic jam has reached all the way down to the foothill of the mountain, spanning for over 20 kms.

How was it that despite the landslide and a toll collection plaza, this never ending stream of cars was allowed entry on that mountain road? Where was the Uttaranchal traffic police? Who was managing this traffic blizzard? Why were people not being issued a travel warning? Did they not know about the landslides? Did they not anticipate this kind of traffic on 15^th August weekend?

Luckily for us, we decided to change our destination. We came to learn the next day that the landslide had been cleared at 1.30 pm in the night. Till then the medley of cars and their inhabitants had waited patiently or impatiently on the rain swept curves of the road leading to Mussorie.

This comes from a Government of a State that witnessed a major crisis and natural disaster just last year. One would have expected a more stream-lined, proactive and people friendly approach from this State. But there was no freedom in sight for these thousands stranded on that fateful Independence Day.