“You have to come meet my other family”, Arvind said. Knowing how rare it is for him to get this close to anyone, I have always been curious about Munsiari and it’s residents. They’d taken on the mystique suitable to a faraway mountainous hamlet crossed over with The Shire. But getting there to experience it first hand-now that’s been a different kettle of fish. Something always came up… something, that translates deep into “what if”s. What if these people and this place doesn’t affect me the same way?

What if I’ve lost the ability to see the magic?

What if these people, this other family of my brother’s, don’t like me as much?

And so I put it off. This time, my brother made a couple of sharp inquiries about my intention to go-and I meekly submitted to the plan.

The plan: flights booked. Onward (and return) train-booked out, so we need to Tatkal and build plan Bs (plans B?) as we go.

Boy. What a ride it’s been. Madiha (my new sister-in-law) and I, both anxious when travelling, set out from Bangalore to Delhi, stayed at My old stomping grounds and dad’s old office NCERT’s guest house for a few hours, left to take a bus (the Tatkal booking was a lost cause), which broke down outside Rampur, necessitating that we get our own cab. The bus ended up being 6 hours late. So after a 15 min stop to freshen up, we took the shared cab for a 12 hour ride to Munsiari.

Unbeknownst to Madiha and me, my otherwise unflappable brother was getting highly tense since we left home… after we landed here safely, the tension rapidly deteriorated to a stomach upset.

Here are things I’ve learnt about myself from Delhification, ISBT in the rains, bus breakdown near Rampur UP, a nighttime cab ride in the lower Himalayas with ice capped mountains looking like something from Tintin and Explorers on the Moon”:

• Being stoic is it’s own virtue. If I don’t say out loud or indicate by facial expressions that the retching sounds and the smell of dried vomit that I travelled the last 6 hours of the cab ride with, is uncomfortable, then there is very little discomfort. Already, empathy was leading the mental party with “the poor things, they are suffering. They’re probably feeling as miserable as I did when I got Labyrinthitis in Goa”. Staying quiet and not reacting reduces the power of things.
• Political dialogues require a person to proselytise and the other to say hmmm. Our well meaning mountain-origin cabbie went on about the splendours of the capital city and about political scenes and sense of right and wrong. A few hmmms later, I realised this isn’t a brainwash. It’s his reality. Whichever side he’s supporting and what he is feeling is a sum total of his experiences. The everyday guy is quite happy with reduced violence in his backyard. All I could say after a while was hmmm and try to understand his viewpoint.
• Childhood memories related to smells are magic. Since I stayed at the NCERT campus for 5 hours, I decided to start my pilgrimage with a trip to the library. The NCERT library – 3 floors of books – spoilt me for every other library I encountered later. I walked in, the smell of books caught me, and I felt 8 again. The world and the future full of possibilities. That is all the revival I needed! Imagine.
• That joyously frantic feeling of seeing 290 books in 2 minutes and wanting to read all of them. It never leaves you.
• Taking an Uber to catch a Volvo from ISBT in the rains meant that, for Rs. 270, the cabbie will go out of his way, find out who can help and get that help. And not leave us till we say we’re good. A police van you ask directions of, has a driver with movie star looks (and he knows it) who gives confident directions as well. The bus stop isn’t a squelchy mess. At least, didn’t feel like it that way. Also, Vadilal ice cream carts live on!
• If your bus breaks down near Rampur, UP, you’ll see people moving at snail’s pace, a lot of butt scratching and tackle adjusting, nosedigging men. The desolate state highway is a one-lane game with no road divider.
• Small towns like Haldwani are where small local shops show up to their best advantage. The malls and ubiquitous clothes brands are making inroads, and if clothing is here, can grocery be far behind. But here’s evidence that a sizeable population of people are traders and have the knowledge to keep their stores running, employ 2-3 people and respect their dignity, and bring home enough metaphorical bacon to feed the family. We’re a nation of entrepreneurs who learnt the employee mindset in the last 50 years.
• A part of childhood in smaller towns and hamlets, is work from the time they are 10 or so. There is school, there is some homework. But basic skills such as cleaning up their own food vessels is a given. And with more age, cooking and house maintenance work gets added to the skill repertoire. A significant part of it is vocational education.

Vocational education works. There are boys who learn to drive before the age of obtaining license and by the time they get one, they are intensely skilled at navigating tough terrain, know their own strengths and weaknesses, use these to increase their income, and be customer centric, with it. In a country with an increasing number of the educated unemployable, the self-employed/ self-sufficient seem worthy of praise.

I leave you with a montage of pictures from the library that brought me up.