June 19th, 2010
There's a little morsel of happy every where. Those that come bring dreams of departure to we who wait. "Your dream will soon be a reality", I am told. I lap up stories of their travails; secretly smiling for I know now what they will soon know - their journey has just begun. The Universe has much to share, an infinite to teach.
There is an eager mix of cages and two wheels - some equipped with Go Pros to document their travels. I'm told they intend to capture everything worthwhile within the confines of High Definition. I'm told what I already know - that it is impossible to do so. For every rock tells a story, every turn brings forth the possibility of great adventure and every gust of wind mocks the impotence of our equipment reminding us, we may never capture its essence, merely document snippets of its omnipresence.
Some point fingers and make demands from the locals like masters from slaves. The locals sneer, giving us knowing smiles - 'It's ok', they seem to say - we live lives they will never have. That, for them, is punishment enough. I laugh. Yes, I think to myself, that, most certainly is, punishment enough.
A helper, a mechanic, I learn, lies in agony - a splitting headache. I share my last tablet of aspirin. "Shukriya". My eyes turn to a Sardarji who entertains a back massage from an accompanying American of the fairer sex. His ecstasy is palpable.
I head out, leaving the din of arrival behind and walk straight into the thekedar screaming at another American, asking her not to pee close to his store. Frightened, and justifiably embarrassed she disappears into the nothingness. His amusement stands in sharp contrast against my revulsion. I say nothing and walk back to my tin roof. I'm told the Poles wish to leave by 4:30am so we may make it to Manali in good time. I nod in disinterested agreement. I'm done for the day.
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