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Chapter Nine
She was sitting at the foot of the bed, her eyes, as always immeasurable, fixed on me.
I grinned, “Good morning; what o’clock is it?”
“Eight o’clock and it is good evening,” she said.
As she edged towards the middle, I tried to get up but pathetically fell back.
I looked around the unfamiliar room which was unadorned and simple to the mansion’s standards.
“What happened?” I asked feebly.
“You have been sleeping for fifteen hours,” she said while stroking my forehead upwards.
Suddenly I realized that I had a splitting headache and squeezed the eyelids while holding her hand tightly.
“Why?” The question came out painstakingly from my lips.
She brushed her lips against mine, “Don’t st
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My spirit returned to the body. We were still in the Land Rover and I was lying stretched to the full, like a well-mannered and considerate corpse would normally lie. On her orders, the two men had brought a bucketful of dried yak dung cakes which they transformed into an inferno, a little away from the car. Then, they carried me like a sack of dried tapioca towards it. After about forty minutes of dung heat, some hot milk and a few very hot touches from her, my spirit stirred and the body started feeling better enough for us to continue the ascend.Once again she was behind the wheel and I, in the front passenger seat. The climb ahead was so steep, the fuming and exasperated automobile paused for a frightening moment when and where it was not supposed to stop, forcing me to think that it had finally decided that enough was enough, and was considering going in the reverse at the speed of light. Twelve thousand feet! I shuddered. But, she was made of sterner stuf
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Mount Everest was quaking and slowly tilting towards Bihar and UP. I tried to scream out to Nitish Kumar and Mayawati to move out of the way but the voice was trapped in the throat and wouldn’t come out.I opened the eyes into her smiling face. She gave me a small kiss on the lips before putting a clay cup of tea in my stiff hands.“Nanaji will meet you at ten,” she said.I tried to snuggle under her sweater but she pushed me away, “Look at the watch.”I had less than thirty minutes. I asked, “How do I start…, I mean, how do I greet him or what do I tell him first?”“There is no need to panic; I have already spoken to him. He knows all about you and the purpose of your visit. There will be a flat stone at his feet. Sit on it and ask your questions,” she said while massaging my head.
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After lunch we went for a walk, a little away from the cottages. We walked under the hanging cliffs, by the scary edges of the bottomless plummets and among the huge boulders. She was holding my hand tightly, as if trying to protect me from some unknown foe. We stopped as we came to a soaring white expanse of ice standing almost vertically in the air, without any support or attachment. I stared disbelievingly at the awesome sight.“A waterfall, frozen many, many years ago,” she said.Taking away the eyes from the breathtaking sight, I looked at the countless boulders in all shapes and sizes. Some were as big as a hut while a handful, in the shape and size of a football.Therewerenotrees or shrubs, so the vegetation was mainly mosses, lichens and algae.The sub-zero temperature and the harsh winds had made the place a totally inhospitable area.As my eyes moved
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The year was 2011The monsoon clouds were all around the Tribhuvan International as the small aircraft buzzed towards the far end of the domestic airstrip before raising its head upwards in a silent prayer, to signal the first leg of our saunter to Mount Everest. It was without doubt the smallest plane I had ever been on. We looked down to see Kathmandu scurrying away as if offended at the saunter and our mission.As the plane soared laboriously, I watched the thick fog and clouds with apprehension, wondering how the pilot could see anything in these conditions. I sent out an elfin, nonetheless passionate prayer to God. As if in response the aircraft climbed higher into the bright sunshine before turning its nose towards the north- east, while we released the chains and leaned back.The flight on such a small plane through the mightiest mountain ranges in the world was mind-blowing, to say the least; the trip w
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I looked around. The boat was docked at the Vypin quay and passengers were disembarking.The meeting with the headmaster of the local school had consumed more time than I had bargained for, and it was almost evening before I returned to my empty flat at Kaloor, a minor suburb of Kochi. The late lunch I had taken at an unpretentious hotel was making me heavy and drowsy. Without bothering to change, I stretched my weak and pitiable body on the bed as the sleepy eyes fell on the ceiling. Ignoring the weak and pitiable body, the energetic and enthusiastic mind asked whether it could return to Kathmandu. I nodded drowsily.Four days had passed since the encounter at the canteen and the interactions between us were trying to move on from the ‘hello- hello’ phase.It was five past nine on that day. She and her friends were standing in the shadowy corridor, leading to our class.The corridor was crowded with boys and girls, the chaos perfect
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The talented Arabian mosquitoes were practicing the sixth symphony. That was my signal to wake up. I looked at the watch: seven past. I had to prepare the project report which must be on the collector’s table by nine in the morning, if I honestly expected the funds to be released on time. Crossing to the table, I pulled the attaché towards me while lighting a cigarette.The St. Peter’s country liquor shop is in downtown Kochi, between the old railway over-bridge and the ESI Dispensary road, where the distance between the two is the narrowest. Looking around, I nodded smilingly at the familiar faces. Most of them, like me were regulars at the pub. After completing the report and finishing a cold shower, attired in a new pair of clothes, I had gone to the printer at Kacheripady to return the proof of the monthly journal. Coming out of there I had crossed to MG Road and walked past Shenoy’s theater to reach the auditor. After thirty minutes with him, I w
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Leaving the hotel around nine, I took a taxi to the Handloom City of Nepal, as Patan is commonly called. The city is only five kilometers from Kathmandu, and is reached by crossing the Bagmati River. Despite its closeness to Kathmandu, the city still retains its old-world charm and traditional professions such as woodcarving and metal crafts. Patan is full of palaces, temples and monasteries that look almost similar in their pagoda style architecture and wood-carved windows.I asked the driver to drop me at Durbar Square, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The square consists of the old royal palace and a multitude of artistically designed temples, with the beautiful Krishna temple, built entirely of stone being the main shrine.I knew that her manor was somewhere behind the old royal palace.Even though the surroundings had changed a lot with the addition of many new housing complexes and shopping malls, it wasn’t a big problem finding the mansion which I had
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