The Shimla Trip- Leg Two- Delhi to Shimla

Of the few remaining states in the country that I haven’t yet had the privilege to visit Himachal Pradesh happens to be one state that I quite frequently forget ever exists. That maybe either because of its size or the fact that nothing ever seems to be happen there. So when the chance to visit Shimla presented itself I took the opportunity to check out the map to find where exactly it was located. I had not really expected to be sent to Himachal. I was actually thinking of Kerala so when the call came to go I packed my bags and started off. To be frank, I wasn’t really looking forward to the Shimla trip. Of late my moods haven’t been normal enough to make me eager about traveling. So all I did was book my tickets and hoped for a hassle free trip.

I had planned so that I’d make the journey from Delhi to Shimla by bus during the day. I did not want to miss any sight. My ticket was booked by the half past eight Volvo of the Himachal Tourism that would leave from Himachal Bhavan on Sunday morning. At quarter to eight I presented myself before the gates of Himachal Bhavan after traveling in a taxi driven by a young and pious Sardar with a magnificent moustache. An incredibly dumb security guard would not let me into Himachal Bhavan where I had planned to have breakfast before getting into the bus. After a few phone calls he let me in grudgingly. Inside was an ancient looking restaurant manned by even more ancient looking people. But they were incredibly polite in an old world manner which meant my breakfast arrived about half an hour after I placed the order. All the while stuffing the bread and omlette into my mouth I feared the bus would leave without me. Of course, it didn’t.

The Volvo bus was waiting for passengers. I got in and settled into my seat somewhere in the front. I like to watch the drivers of any vehicle I travel in. Inside the bus it was a bit less hot than outside where the temperature was poised to touch the forties. As the bus raced through the wide roads of Delhi I noticed new flyovers and bridges were coming up. Delhi was preparing for the Commonwealth Games sometime later in the year in October. After a longish stop in ISBT the Volvo was on its way to Shimla. Since it was a nine hour journey from Delhi to Shimla I came prepared with books (Pico Iyer’s ‘Video Night in Kathmandu) and magazines. On Saturday I got a gift of a camera from one of my brothers. Getting the camera ranks as a minor miracle, the sort that take place in my life often. This improved my mood considerably and I looked forward to capturing the sights of Shimla.

Onward we went passing through places like Samalkha (which had a lot of foundries) Panipat, Gharaunda (HQ of Liberty Shoes) Karnal, Madhuban etc. In the open fields I could see heaps of grain drying in the sun. Inside the Volvo bus I could not tell how hot it was outside until I stepped out for lunch at a place called ‘Choupal’ somewhere near Ambala. In the restaurant there was a minor comedy of errors as the waiter served the vegetable pulao I had ordered to an elderly couple who had not yet even opened the menu in their hands. They were baffled when the waiter placed the dish before them. The old lady began serving it into her plate even as I wondered, mouth watering, if it was my dish that they were partaking. When I reminded the waiter about my order he realized his mistake and pulled out the dish from before the couple faster than anything I’d ever seen.

Every time I leave Hyderabad, even if it is just for a day, I make it a point to visit the nearest Irani joint and hog on biryani and Irani chai not sure when I will again be able to taste them. The vegetable pulao at ‘Choupal’ made me nostalgic for Hyderabadi biryani even though not even thirty six hours had passed since I had last tasted it. That is one reason why sometimes I do not want to go on long trips out of Hyderabad. Anyway, after lunch we passed through Lalru, Derabassi, Zarakpur which had a huge mall on its outskirts. Turns out it was Chandigarh. We reached there at half past two and it took us half hour to pass through the place. There was the office of ‘The Tribune’ on whose walls I read the day’s headline about Shashi Tharoor meeting the Congress President. From Panchkula onwards the hills began. We passed Pinjore and finally reached Kalka, a name that I had heard several times. Then came Parwanoo and Baroti where the bus stopped long enough for me to run across the road and have a cup of tea. It was all hilly as we passed through Koti, Dharampur, Kumarhatti, Badoga and Solan where a distinguished looking gentleman wearing a fine cowboy hat and who looked like someone from one of the North Eastern states got down. I wondered who he was but little did I know then that we would meet him again in different circumstances.

It got greener and more beautiful as the bus wound its way through the steep hills. There were hotels everywhere on the roadside offering food and rooms. I was surprised to see no building was more than one storey high. I was even more surprised to see that cars were parked on the roofs that were level with the road. The rest of the building went down and clung to the sides of the hill so one cannot actually see the entire building. The view was beautiful with tall and stately pine trees blanketing the hills. We finally reached Shimla at around seven in the evening. It was already dark and lights twinkled like diamonds on the hills on all sides. Minutes after I stepped out of the bus I realized that I hadn’t packed any woolens. When I had read in the papers a couple of days earlier that temperatures at Shimla had soared high to record levels not reached in the past century I had assumed that it would be quite pleasant. It wasn’t to be so.