Finding Thyself! #Rishikesh Diaries

Delhi sounds so dreadful to my ears when I first decide to go Rishikesh via Delhi. The 2012 incident still lingers somewhere in my mind and I am very apprehensive about travelling solo to the North of India.

Ain't no cure to wanderlust and off I go to Rishikesh with single aim of jumping from the 83 meters. For past one month I have tried to imagine myself on the edge of the bungee platform and simulated the thoughts, rush and butterflies. Waiting for Agust Kranti to arrive Borivali, I was hoping my compartment to be young blood and not typical uncles, aunties or families who don't talk to you and give you wide stare when you tell them that you are travelling solo and otherwise staring back at you with their blank faces. It seemed like force wanted to repay for giving me outrageous time all around 2016. My bogie was buzzing with young blood and my compartment had a group travelling to Manali for some yjhd scenes and a young guy who happened to be belonging to Rishikesh.

Only train journeys make me realise how chatty can I really get in next one hour the guy sitting opposite to me was through half of my life, decisions revolving it and most of my antics and the rest of the journey had more stories for him. Somehow I really love sleeping in the trains with all that "rock-a-bye-baby" feeling, but it was all shattered because of the uncle snoring in the next compartment.

Its been a few days that I am trying to write a thing on Men- Indian men specifically and travelling solo north with not much good reputation for men I was first greeted with term ‘Gudiya’ as soon as I got out of Nizamuddin station. I had to go ISBT to board a Rishikesh bound bus and I had no clue as to how much do they charge and what route do they take? But this man got all shortcuts figured for me in 100 bucks for which I was hailed as a bargain queen, but to be true I didn't even bargain, dumb and eager to go Rishikesh I went and sat into the rickshaw. I don't understand the hype around the term "Delhi" its more like Mumbai we have film-stars they have the politicians apart from that the people, the vibe and the traffic is more or less the same. I had to come to terms with words like ‘Gudiya’ or ‘Betaji’ like nobody ever respected me so much as a woman in Mumbai, a rickshawala saying yes to drop me to station is all about respect I know in Mumbai.

Its almost 6 hours journey from Delhi to Rishikesh bus stop with innumerable stops for men to pee alongside the road, envious but manner less. For next two nights I was put at hostel called “Bunk Stay” the moment I checked out their website I was in love with this place and wanted to stay here. It was another half an hour drive from Rishikesh bus-stop to Tapovan the last place where rickshaw can drop you. The rickshawala was more furious than my father for a girl to be travelling so late and wanting to go three zillas away from bus-stop. I think I somehow attract tragedies, it was a rickshaw strike and the rickshaw guy was really a messiah. He made sure that he dropped me till the start of Lakshman Jhulla, although they were not allowed to go there but it was not the usual day and he couldn’t stop giving me all those daddy looks. The Lakshman Jhulla at that moment with empty stomach seemed like Mt. Everest, I saw a nice bhojanalay on the way so after checking twice if the  rickshawala was gone, I walked back to that place to feast on some dal-chawal, my all-time solution to extreme hunger. After pacifying the turbulence in my stomach, it was time to get to the other side of Lakshman Jhulla, I could see Bunk Stay on the top of a hill somewhere while walking the Jhulla but major conundrum was how do I get there? On the other side of lakshman jhulla I couldn’t see a single human on the roads, I could see a few staircases going up to the hill so I began the climb, I could see a man climbing down towards me with jugs in his hand, I stopped him to ask whether the route was right one to go Bunk Stay, now I can really say my Hindi is very weak and people in north speak tricky Hindi. The conversation goes something like this:-

Me: Bhaiya ye raasta Bunk Stay jata hai?

Bhaiya: Me nai bata sakta (Completely hastened to wall and protecting himself with jugs)

Me: Aise kaise nai bata sakte? Akeli ladki jaa rahi hai itna bhi nahi hai k help kardo.

Bhaiya: Me nai bata sakta(Still frightened and glued to wall) Kyuki mujhe nai pata.

Me: Uff, Aise bolo na nahi pata, abhi pitt jaate aap toh?

I was half surprised and half shocked at his answer and his expression as they did not match. The expressions made me feel as if I spooked him out by asking him address to some ghastly place and the answer was I would say trickster Hindi. I was surely going to beat him to the pulp if he would have said main ahi bata sakta once more. I was definitely the road to bunk stay but not the right one, it was spookier and not lit and I could only imagine that frightened man’s face. So the moment I saw another guy climbing up to Bunk Stay, at very first moment I was creeped out but later it was a re-assuring company. After a nice 15 mins climb we reached Bunk Stay, followed by the Jab We Met “Hotel Decent” scene and we literally had to explain the receptionist that we don’t know each-other we just met while climbing up, no we were not Fb friends, my name was Sayali and not his, how odd would it be for guy to be named “Sayali”, that I am from Mumbai and he is from Delhi. After all the interrogation the receptionist gave us the room, with a small fun tip that every night they had music and games on the roof for all hostelites. I gave him a “thanks but fuck-off” smile and headed straight to the room. I was in no mood for anymore adventure and decided to knock out ASAP.