Syaahi ki Awaaz

The End is near The alarm beeped with all kinds of musical tunes set to wake us up. We were lying on the bed half-dead. We begged for a few more minutes of sleep, but time is a cruel beast. "It's 6:50. We won't be able to catch our bus to Bairsaini." Ini announced. This was our last chance to trek in the mountains. If we miss it, our trip would have a void which we will regret for the rest of our lives. Listening to Ini and reminding myself of reveries that waited for us on the mountain top, I jumped out of the bed and like a squadron leader ordered everyone to wake up. "20 minutes is all that we have. It will take 10 minutes for us to reach the bus stop. Let's go. We can make it!" I said. Breaking the orthodox hoax about ladies being more sensitive towards their looks, we left our camp within 10 minutes. Covered with blankets and caps, the 5 Eskimos were striding towards the bus stop. We were already behind schedule so I ran, leaving the 4 behind to

Mountains are calling... At 6 we reached Parvati valley. Surrounded by mountains from all the 4 sides, listening to the sound of river water, gently flowing over the burnished stones, made us forget all our weariness of the 22 hour long journey. We had no plans now. We had no place to take refuge for the night or a safe place to keep our heavy luggage. Our first task was to look for one. Wayfaring through the market we saw many things that we wanted to buy but we knew, we must not loose our focus. It was hard to overlook the dazzling market before us. Finally we decided to live in a camp by the river which had a picturesque scene of the mountains. We explored our camp site and relaxed for a bit. Now we were ready to go again, this time to hunt for food. Parvati valley is best known for its Israeli cuisine. We went to a restaurant with a good view and some hearty music. I drank some hot chocolate that day. I fail to remember the taste, but I remember the feeling. In the cold