Loo-p Holes

From the time we entered Ladakh from Sonmarg, we were directed to drink water. Not one or two sips or gulps but 3 to 4 litres a day. I remembered from biology class that 70% of the human body is composed of water. Water happens to be the base of our cellular constitution and also the medium for transfer of oxygen and energy to these cells and thereby keeping our body alive. The brain happens to be the most sensitive organ of the body and brain cells start dying very quickly if flow of oxygen and energy is stopped even for a few seconds. And brain cells did not regenerate.

Water was important. But then another biology lecture had informed me that the human urinary bladder has a maximum capacity of half a litre. And that coupled with the fact that the temperatures were around 10 Degree Celsius, well, we had a problem.

Due to narrow roads and hilly terrain, the bus was anyways on an average doing a 20 kmph. and now these su-su breaks were not exactly helping us increase our average speed. But if you had to go then you HAD to go! There were no two ways about it. But we had to wait at least till the bus was at a convenient place to stop. Also we had to make sure that there were places favourable for the women to go. There were no streetlights or lanes drawn on the roads, so expecting toilet facilities along the road was like expecting a non-coalition government in India.

But as I said before, if you had to go then you HAD to go! So we started improvising. Sleeping bags were used as makeshift cubicles. The women always had to go in groups wherein they took turns holding the sleeping bags and … doing their business. We guys were better off and could all pee at the same time enjoying the scenic views. But by the time the girls returned from their mission we guys would have a newly filled bladder ready to burst again. Timing was of prime importance.

And then again there were some women who I can swear were endowed with enormous bladders. They just never went out to pee. I wasn’t quite sure if it was their anatomy or some other secret procedures they followed, so I made sure that I had water ONLY from my bottle.

We have answered the call of nature at some of the most fascinating places in Ladakh. The view of Pangong Lake was awesome and while I am writing this I suspect I have another theory for it being brackish in nature and devoid of life. I just need to work out the mystery of its shades of blue.

The synchronization experienced during community excrement session while we were stuck in a blizzard at Khardung La is worth a mention. We were covered in woollens and warm attire from head to toe except for our exits and the snowfall made it more adventurous.

The women, I am sure, must have had their own set of adventures while they had to resort to evasive manoeuvres to hide from trucks and other vehicles carrying curious onlookers.

Some places did have toilets but it was rare that they would be usable, forget clean. Some were made such that I think they just installed the pots without any plumbing beneath it. And then there were the Ladakhi style toilets. These toilets are generally just rectangular cavities in the ground with at least 10 to 20 feet of empty space below them. Ladakh is devoid of fertile soil and night soil collected over a year is used to fertilise the fields. I did not use them. I am not a sadist when it comes to poop. Imagine your poop falling 10 to 20 feet below you. What had it ever done to deserve such treatment?

We had problems as a group as regards to toilet facilities, but we managed. We did raise this issue with the Deputy Commissioner of Ladakh, one Mr. Dwivedi, when we met him in Leh. He was very diplomatic in his answers and replied coolly that by the time we visited next, the problem would be solved. He must have known that the same group would never manage to find the time and resources together to visit Ladakh again, ever. And individually, we’d never meet him.

So that was it. That’s what we faced and that’s how we solved the problems. As guys we had lesser sufferings and I am sure that they must feel more strongly towards the issue. But they have got to admit that no facilities meant complete freedom and an experience worth remembering.

Pay Attention

Yaar you research department wala public don't understand the meaning of copy paste kya?

Greetings Kiddos!

after a few initial poems and some basic writeups ... there seem to be a huge influx of copy-pasted material. i derive immense pleasure in announcing that the same or similar information is available all over the net and you have thereby not aided in any particular way.

it is preferable that you compose and post personal experiences.

Regards. Croc.

Himesh to the Rescue

Captain’s Log: 30th May 2007, 1800 Hrs.
As instructed, the entire gang reached the dormitory in Manali to get ready to leave for Kalka. The bus that got us to Manali from Leh and its irritating crew of driver and cleaner (neither did the driver drive properly nor did the cleaner clean that well AND we were certain that both were drunk!!) were responsible for the journey to Kalka.

Manali – Kalka, we were told, was a twelve-hour journey, which was scheduled at 1900–1930 Hrs. so as to facilitate our boarding the Paschim Express (departure time 1010 Hrs. 31st May 2007) to Mumbai.

But to our surprise (rather shock), the old man declared that we had an extra hour to continue “interacting with the locals”. The bus apparently was delayed by an hour due to unknown reasons. Overjoyed by this rare opportunity, the gang got busy in “interacting with the locals” and ended up buying all kinds of stuff that was available cheaper in Mumbai.

Captain’s Log: 30th May 2007, 1900 Hrs.
Bags packed and ready to leave the gang was directed to reach a certain bus stop, a five-minute walk from the dormitory. Confusion and later chaos regarding the existence of this very bus stop was thereby very natural since despite walking for over twenty-minutes, the said location was nowhere to be seen. Also, the bus had been further delayed due to traffic on its way back from Manikaran (that’s what the travel agent conveyed).

Captain’s Log: 30th May 2007, 1945 Hrs.
The C.O.M. made us walk to the bus station. Some five-minute walk that was. But still no bus. Traffic? Maybe, maybe not! Was it going to come? It was nearing dinnertime. The twelve-hour journey was not supposed to include time taken for dinner. Our feet were aching. The inaction made us cold and the t-shirts we were wearing made it worse. Our warm clothes were already packed at the bottom of our bags.

Captain’s Log: 30th May 2007, 2230 Hrs.
The drunken travel agent was pleased to inform us that the bus and its crew had already left for Leh. But we were asked not to worry as he had arranged for taxis. Thirty-two of us and a lot of luggage. Eight of us in each of the four taxis (we presumed them all to be ten seater jeeps). Taxi No.1 Qualis, Taxi No.2 Sumo, Taxi No.3 Qualis and Taxi No.4 Maruti Omni!! (That too 5 seater including the driver!!) A careful “size-wise” distribution of the gang and its luggage ensured that despite certain discomfort all the members, drivers and luggage fit in the four cars.

Captain’s Log: 30th May 2007, 2245 Hrs.
The drivers tank up their vehicles but inform us that due to certain “taxi union” problems, we would leave at 2300 Hrs. and via a different route, passing through Nagar. “No problems… just get us to the station in time.” Akul’s walkie-talkie set springs into action. One handset with Akul himself in the last car (Qualis) and one with me in the first car (Maruti Omni, a.k.a. ‘Nature Club One’ as the C.O.M. was in it) crackled to life as soon as the journey started.

The gang was told that the guys sitting next to the drivers were to remain awake. A task next to impossible. Especially after a day that began with a trek to Jogini Falls, then a walk in the Manali Nature Park, an extended “interaction with the locals” and finally the four-hour wait for transportation. Also not much energy to stay awake, as we were yet to have dinner. But we had to stay awake. Sleeping in the seat next to the driver could mean the driver feeling sleepy too. How do we crack this riddle??

“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Huzurrrrr … tera tera TERA suroooorrr…” Sleep?? What that be?? With Himesh Reshamiya blowing his nose away to glory even sleeping pills would prove ineffective. Now that we were forced to stay awake and also to listen to Himesh’s songs I couldn’t help realise that our drivers were driving to the beat. Every hairpin bend in the road was negotiated on a ‘Dhichchick Dhoof’. It didn’t take us long to figure out that keeping the first and the last car informed of which exact song Himesh was singing in that particular car was an ideal way of using the walkie-talkie as well as keeping ourselves entertained.

The drivers drove their individual vehicles at a constant speed. A constant unwavering speed of 75 Kmph. Up, down, right, left, curves, straights, potholes and smooth roads all manoeuvred at a constant steady speed. The road desperately tried to slow us down and if not that to at least challenge the skill of our drivers. But our drivers showed one-upmanship by negotiating the curves while chatting on their cell phones or by taking off their sweaters while steering with their knees or even switching off the lights and driving in the pitch dark. Knowing that the regular road was not a good enough workout, our drivers even drove over a suspended wooden bridge over a wild river, which was strictly meant for “Pedestrians Only!”

Captain’s Log: 31st May 2007, 0300 Hrs.
We had passed Sundernagar (proposed dinner halt) long ago. Some women felt nauseas as the curvy roads and the high speeds churned their guts. However, lack of food in their bowels was resulting in mere spitting. There was also a theory making rounds that it was Himesh who was responsible for these irregular bowel movements.

I was receiving continuous messages on my radio handset that people were hungry and need to eat and some needed to stretch their legs. Roadside policemen seemed confused as to my identity as and when they saw me talking on the radio while zooming past them in our taxi. At around 0330 Hrs. I spotted a roadside dhaba and after due permissions from the C.O.M. instructed our driver and the others to stop for a meal. A hot and tasty plate of Rajma-Rice followed an initial cup of chai. Who paid the bills is to date a mystery for me.

Captain’s Log: 31st May 2007, 0730 Hrs.
Our drivers had got us within six kilometres of Kalka and took a quick and well-deserved break on the outskirts of the city. The weight of our eyelids were unbearable. Moreso because Himesh had now given way to spiritual songs, which our drivers thought were best played in the morning.

Captain’s Log: 31st May 2007, 0815 Hrs.
We reached Kalka Railway Station almost two hours before departure and profusely thanked the skilful drivers and their remarkable machines, not to mention Himesh Reshamiya who had entertained as well as kept us and the drivers awake and thereby alive.