For someone who just started to believe in destiny and karma, this trip has been nothing but only that. Every call I get, every move I make, every person I meet leads me to something eventually I was supposed to do. All the people I meet in between have just led me on to there.
Even my trip to Bharmour was just that. I had decided not to go despite my friends deciding otherwise. They left Bhagsu and I was happy to have the apartment to my own. Wonderful sunrises, plenty of books and new faces I would meet everyday. Dalai Lama also happened in between.
Would my friends from Bharmour call? No, not really. My conversation was usually restricted to some anonymous figure called Sameer, who sounded like arrogant asshole. (A couple of calls and days later, I figured he is not so bad!!)
Every alternate day they would call to talk about work and would tell they would leave for Manimahesh the next day. And my answer to that would be "if you guys were to leave, I'm not coming there". Interestingly, the next day never came for them.
I made friends all along my week here and I was even supposed to go to Triund alone. I attempted it!! But without the jabbering noises and the cloud of smoky friends, I knew I couldn't make it to the top. Disappointed in my lack of will power, I headed down from Gallu, only to stop at Heena Cafe and flip through Rohinton Mistry.
Knowing that I wouldn't finish reading the book, I leave the cafe thinking about my day. A few steps out of the cafe downhill, I get a call asking me to go to Bharmour as everyone there were planning to leave for Manimahesh the next day. In the words of my caller, "You are not doing anything much there, are you? Nothing much is happening there! So come over. There will be mutton curry too." Not at all welcoming but the mutton curry sounded tasty enough! And maybe the wanderer in me decided to pop out!.
After picking up a couple of coconut cookies for Seana Paula, I head home only to get out by 11.30 am. Too late to head out for Bharmour, everyone said. They told me I would never reach Bharmour the same day. And have they ever gone to Bharmour - No!
Deciding to trust myself and to just keep going, I reach Mcleod Ganj. Only to find a bus waiting to go to Dharamshala. Hopping on to it, almost all passengers tell me Bharmour is a futile dream for the day. Reaching the bus stand, I hear there is a bus from Kangra to Chamba by 1.30 pm. I realise there is a bus there waiting to go to Kangra. Just as I settles down my thoughts on the bus, I reach my destination for now. And there I see my bus waiting to take me to Chamba.
Being a firm believer in IST, I sniff around for something to munch on and guzzle down. Only to see the bus moving away. Ouch! Screaming and running helter-skelter, I manage to bring the bus to a stop just outside the bus stand. And there began my 6-hour journey to Chamba. A lot of uphills, downhills, dried river-beds, a plate of steaming hot chicken curry later, I reach Chamba at around 7.15 pm.
A couple of calls later, I'm told I'm unlikely to reach Bharmour and Jimmy's Inn is likely to be my home for the night. Determined to eat my mutton curry and prove a lot of people wrong, I find a bus headed that way. But they had no intention of taking it out soon. I find a strong soul on the bus, we take on the conductor and managed to get the bus rolling eventually by 8.30 pm.
And I reach Bharmour by 11.30 pm to find my guitarist waiting for me! Another 10-minute uphill walk to dive into the wonderfully spicy mutton curry.
Surprise of surprises, there's a truck load of people living in a 2-bedroom house.
And my life has never been same again!! For I have made friends to last a lifetime and learnt to trust only your voice and not those of others telling NO!!
Maybe I'll tell you about the people later, each one with their own idiosyncrasies like me but better!!!
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