A tiny tale!

I found a space under the Deodar tree, where the rain could not mess with my spectacles for a while. I took a deep breath and waited for the last bus to Udaipur. With the thick green cover in Tindi Valley, the distant roads were merely visible, yet I found a tiny spot amongst the cover to look for a long-awaited back journey. The river Chandra Bhaga which seems, pious at the merging point at Tandi, Lahaul seems to be scary and disastrous as its volume increases at the last village, Tindi of Lahaul, finally making its way to Pakistan via Chamba.

I recollected all my days while I sat under the tree. Having spent 5 days visiting pastures to attend disease-affected gaddi flocks. I experienced mixed emotions. I was never a trekking person, however on our first day we hiked for nearly 8 km and the downhill walk was more painful. The Hadsar pasture is a spot where many trekkers go for recreation. However, we were on duty at that place. With minimal support and equipment, we hiked the region in full enthusiasm. We passed thick forests, roaring local streams, and the mountain full of herbs that would cure various illnesses, but couldn’t find one that could cure the department's unplanned activities. No hiking equipment made it very hard to reach the mountain top and I experienced near-death experiences many times. The place where Gaddis rested was quaint, however, it’s a treacherous thing to have lived there with bare minimum necessities. All they had was a handful of food and clothing with a temporary shelter. It took nearly half an hour to bring back our breath to normal, whereas the gaddi named Rohit seemed quite normal. I remember asking Rohit to grab us some water and put some salt and sugar in it. Alas, we forgot ORS. I exclaimed in a whisper and with an abuse.

The simple daal chawal with thick gaddi-style rotis was enough to make our bellies full. We ate as if found a perfect dining at a high elevated pasture. I missed the goat curd Kadhi, which I had many times while visiting the Gaddis of Kangra, while I worked there on a project based on gaddi goats. That taste is still very fresh on my palate. I found a shade and sat there for a while, relaxed every bit of my body, and waited for my team to finish the meal. 10 minutes later, we were all set and were in action to treat over 100 animals. 2 hours later, we were all tired and were almost finishing the work, when one gaddi came with his ill young lamb. The eyes of some people gleamed with joy. I could make it, that some of them have found their dinner. I couldn't even watch them slicing the life away. Do you want it, doctor? Asked a gaddi. I refused. I have an appetite for chicken, which eventually vanished after this episode but having a large animal was always a no…no thingfor me.

Before we could leave the spot, the clouds emerged from nowhere and started raining heavily. I had nothing to protect myself and again thought about authorities or the government which expects us to work in such harsh conditions. I was trained to be a vet and not a mountaineer. This thought is still hovering in my mind while I write this short story.

4 more days were supposed to be a stay for us at Tindi while we addressed the situation of disease outbreak amongst various gaddi flocks. Not having a permanent place to live, we would spend our days wandering here and there for food, accommodation, and everything in between. Every attendant at government guest houses seemed to act like an Officer and were not ready to cooperate. Lest, cooperation, if one could talk humbly, does the most even if they aren’t in a state to provide any help. Somehow with tricks, contacts with officials, and jugaad made it work for 5 days.

A splash of water from a puddle by a crossing vehicle brought me back to the Deodar tree and the drizzle. We headed to a dhaba and sat there having tea and conversations with the locals when we got to know that the road has blocked and there will be no bus coming today. I could see the landslide and the bus stranded right before it. Another disappointment!

Long story short, we hitchhiked with a truck driver and rode to Udaipur in that. The fierce river flowing alongside Killar Road made my legs tremble. When we reached Udaipur, felt like we are back to a place where people lived. Dear, Tindi, you were kind but your people weren’t.