😎THE OBSERVER-(M-28)😎
Wed 21 Oct 2020
THE SHIMLA ACCORD
There was a collective sigh of relief in the unit after the Raising Day events were over and activities returned to normal. The CO proceeded on leave prior to his posting out and the atmosphere was markedly relaxed. One hot Saturday afternoon in my office, my eyes were fixed on the clock, looking forward to the chilled beer that i was sure would be awaiting my arrival at the Mess. Into this sylvan,serene and calm scene dropped in Satish Madhav Pandey with Alok (YO-mate and very close friend) as also Patrick from yet another Engineer unit. They had been given a break from the
Bridging Training Camp near Patiala that they were attending and had decided to surprise me with a visit.
Within moments, we moved from the office to the Mess and the beer started flowing along with stories and snacks. Much before lunch was served, we had polished off all the chilled beer available and switched over to gin. The spirits were sky-high and the conversation veered around to the hills visible on the horizon and the charms they held. It felt like the great Himalayas themselves were welcoming us with open arms.
There arose a desire to leave the restricted area of the Mess and explore the wide open spaces around. Keen to show off my new- found powers as Company Commander (Offg), i called for a 1xton for a visit to the city.By the time the 1xton arrived, we had packed up three bottles of Rum and decided to go to Shimla . A quick drive saw us reach the bus stand just as a bus to Shimla was exiting ( ostensibly the last one for the day).We waved and stopped it.
Out of the 1xton, into the bus, we were soon Shimla-bound. Three bottles of Rum carefully wrapped in newspapers and Patrick's small- size hand-towel packed into his equally small air-bag formed our luggage.
Our state of euphoria initially kept increasing, inhaling the pine-scented air as the bus made its way up the hills and peaked when it reached Solan, that Mecca of us spirit(ual) souls.As we passed Solan Brewery, we bowed our heads in reverence and uttered silent prayers in praise of that life-saving establishment and its illustrious founders.Those were the days when beer meant Golden Eagle and whiskey meant Solan No.1.But as we ascended higher, the effect of spirits and each-others company started wearing off, to be replaced by leathery tongues in parched throats and the typical hammering sensations in the head that signal a hangover. The conversation slowly simmered down and we were half-asleep when the bus reached Shimla.
Getting off the bus,came the realisation that we would perforce have to spend the night in Shimla.
This simple consequence of our earlier bold and swift decision- making had somehow failed to strike our brilliant minds earlier.We headed on foot straight to the M.E.S. Inspection Bungalow, where i knew our ( i.e. unit's ) resourceful and all-powerful Mess Head-Waiter was attached, only to be informed that there was no room.We trudged up to the Mall and i was sure that i would come across old friends (some even owned hotels) who could help in this matter. But it was peak Season time in Shimla and all available space was booked for the weekend. It also became clear to me ( rather belatedly) that much had changed since the time i had last been a Shimla resident years ago and the number of my close friends there was not at all as high as i had presumed. By now, it was nearing sunset and getting chilly. As a last shot, we tried the Railway Rest House but no luck there either, despite trying to lure the attendant with Rum.The waiting rooms at the Railway Station also yielded no result.
Darkness had descended by then and our limbs were aching with all the walking around.Seeing that there was no other option,and being the only one familiar with the local topography and ground conditions, i lead the gang to the Railway Yard where the next morning's train was parked. Desperate times called for desperate measures.We managed to pry open the door to a second-class compartment with hard wooden benches and promptly dropped our tired bodies, the legs screaming in agony .The rum bottles lay untouched, in fact even the thought of a small tot sent a fresh set of sharp needles poking inside our delicate heads.
Into this dismal scenario, Patrick introduced his hitherto hidden pocket transistor and we began listening to the live running commentary of the cricket World Cup. Partly for the purpose of avoiding detection and being charged with trespassing on Railway property and partly to conserve the battery till the end of the match, the volume was kept very low. The transistor periodically changed hands and whoever had it kept relaying the highlights to the rest.
The newspapers used for wrapping the Rum bottles turned out to be very handy as good insulators with the night growing colder with time. The small hand-towel also kept changing hands as a convenient wrapper in lieu of a blanket.We shivered and squirmed on the hard wooden benches, nodding off now and then into a fitful sleep.With the battery almost dead, came news of the Indian victory.The transistor went silent at that point. But whatever doubts we had on the actual result of the math were settled by the night watchman in high spirits shouting at the top of his voice as he did his rounds, tapping loudly with his stick ---
"KAPIL DEV -( BOOM) ,
JEET GAYA (BOOM),
WORLD CUP (BOOM), iNDIAAAAAAAAA ! (BOOM-BOOM)
At first light, actually a bit before there was any sunlight to expose our moves, we washed our faces and made our way to the bus stand. Any further attempt to hide our plight from the world at large was set aside when we reached the bus stand. Lo and behold - the same bus on which we had travelled to Shimla was making its way out.
As we waved the bus to a halt and got our tickets, Sardarji the conductor could not help commenting -
" Badi jaldi vaapis chal pade ! "
" Jis kaam se aaye the voh ho
gaya " was the terse reply.
The journey back to Chandigarh was a silent and introspective one, with thoughts of laying off the spirits for ever and ever strong in the mind as is wont on such occassions following particularly heavy binges.All members of this expedition weresworn not to divulge any details of the same as they made their way back to the Mess.
