Monsoon Hiking
Story about visiting Matheran.
“What the hell is there in Matheran. Laal Mitti and Hari Tatti.” Rajdeep complained.
Our college had planned a hiking trip to Matheran and I was convincing my friends to come. I had an aborted hiking trip earlier in my childhood and this time I wanted to complete it.
I was 13 years old when my father, my two elder brothers, and I went to Matheran for a weekend trip. We took the local train from Bandra to Dadar, walked the long narrow bridge connecting the Western Line to the Central line at Dadar station, got on a Karjat local, got down at Neral, and caught the small toy train to Matheran.
While going up to Matheran in the toy train, I saw a lot of people walking on the road beside the train. I asked my father about it who explained to me that they were hiking to Matheran. I wanted to do it too. My father agreed and told me that while coming back we would trek down from Matheran to Neral.
We stayed at one of the Parsi Bungalows, where the caretaker rented it out when he knew that the owner was not coming to stay. Little extra income for him. My father paid him for two nights and we started our trek on early Sunday morning before the sun came up. We must have walked around 3 km when I felt a burning sensation in my foot. I stopped to check and found a big shoe bite on my foot. I removed my shoes and tried to walk bare feet but the stones on the road would hurt more.
We had a dilemma, we were stuck on the road between Matheran and Neral. Luckily, a man with a heart of gold and an empty Ambassador agreed to give us a lift. For years, my brothers bullied me, whenever I spoke about hiking.
This was my chance now. I wanted to prove to my brothers that I could hike to Matheran. I was convincing everyone in my group. The boys were all like “ Yeah, will see. Why pay the money now. We can’t even drink with the professors around.” I was getting nowhere. I wanted to go but not without my friends.
Dipshikha the college beauty, had finished her lectures and was walking toward the common room when she overheard me trying to convince the guys. “Hey Noor, are you coming for the hike.” Complete silence, all the guys staring at me. “Yes, we are all going,” Rajdeep shouted with the exuberance of a man who had received a shot of Vitamin B12.
Well, one problem solved, now for the hike. It was a rainy day in August and the bus scheduled to leave at 6.00 am from college, left at 7.42 sharp. It took us around two hours to reach Neral. We all got down from the bus and the first thing we all noticed was all the greenery around. It was a cooling gel for our concrete accustomed eyes. It was still drizzling and we all started the walk with aggression.
We started as a big group of 50 students and slowly small groups started forming. Rajdeep closely following Dipshikha, not letting her out of his sight. There were small waterfalls along the way and everyone took turns to enjoy. I had a backpack with me and a pair of extra shoes in case the one I was wearing started to bite. We reached the town of Dasturi from where the dirt road starts towards Matheran. All the vehicles, have to stop there. The only way forward is to walk or horseback or human rickshaws.
The bus was going to come up and meet us at Dasturi and take us home. Some of the more adventurous ones went up to Matheran which was a further 3kms. I wanted to complete the trek to Matheran so joined the group which went all the way up. We ate at the Station restaurant and rested there for an hour and started to go back to Dasturi to catch the bus.
At Dasturi, we could see the worried faces of the professors who were now surrounded by all the students. The bus had not reached Dasturi and the professors did not know what to do. There were no cell phones at that time, so couldn’t contact the driver. It was already 5 pm. We had planned to start back at 4 pm from Dasturi.
There were no taxis in the Monsoon season as only the hikers came to Matheran in the offseason. We decided to walk back to Neral and if the bus was late or something we would see it on the way. Instead of one way, it was now a two-way hike for everyone. We convinced ourselves that going downhill wouldn’t be a problem.
After two and a half hours of multiple groans, huffs and puffs we reached Neral and found the bus driver under his bus trying to fix a leaking radiator. The bus driver informed us that the mechanic will only come tomorrow with the missing part. The consensus was to take the local train back to Bandra.
We walked to Neral station drenched, our feet and socks stinking from the day’s excursion. All the way back, Rajdeep was carrying Dipshikh’s heavy backpack. We caught a 9.31 pm local which got us to Dadar at 10:52 pm. We walked the same narrow bridge from the Central line to the Western line, caught the Andheri local and went to Bandra. It was now around 11.40 pm. Some of the students went straight home. I went to college as I had parked my bike there.
To my shock, around 30 parents were waiting there for their children to come back. They were very relieved when I and a couple of other friends told them what had happened with the bus and convinced them that everything was fine. I did not have the strength even to ride my bike home. Somehow, I reached home, took off my shoes. The skin on my left big toe was hanging. My mother looked in horror and applied antiseptic but even the burning sensation couldn’t take the smile off my face. My brothers saw this and understood. No more bullying after that day.
Photo Credit: Suprem Vanam