Sunday, 5 April 2015

Dhaba living!!!

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 Bhutan was expensive on the wallet, the long halt at Cherrapunji didn't help in bettering the situation either.
Enough of these hotels, these luxuries, these monetary burdens. Man up, I said to myself.

 Taking that leap of faith wasn't easy. Its never easy to subject yourself to that form of vulnerability. Leaving myself exposed like that was something I wasn't too comfortable with. But this trip wasn't about comfort. Could I actually walk the talk I always gave myself?

A little before Bongaigaon, Assam, all I could see was 5 "khatyas" (string beds), 4 trucks and 3 Sardarjis at a dhaba. I have a fetish for sardarji truckers. I believe they are to Indian highways, what dolphins are to marooned sailors.

 This was enough for me to decided to stop here and "open up". Open myself to the outdoors, to sleep under a starry sky on a rented Rs 100 maze of taut strings. Bathe from an open cement tank, drink water from cut open cans  and share my space with people hardened by the highways.

 People id never meet in Mumbai, stories Id never hear from city folk and bask in their knowledge of routes, road conditions and fuel stations far better than Google Maps was capable of supplying.

I parked Vadm and pulled the bed as close to her as I could. It wasn't so much as to protect her and my belongs as much as some reassurance/familiarity that I needed. 

Sabzi with hot roti, a quarter of rum and coke, and amazing people that ill never have the privilege of having dinner with again.
I slept there for the night, in a sleeping bag, below the stars as trucks rushed past all night. 

I dont know if it was the heat or the days 370 km on the odometer, but I slept like a baby. A new world opened up to me that day. One that I 'll never get tired of living.