Finding joy on memorable uphill climb, with a rider

Come summer and the plains of North India get baked in the relentless heat of the sun. The hot and dry winds only add to the discomfort. Frequent power outages and perennial water scarcity are, so to say, the icing on this rather unpleasant cake. Summer is also the season synonymous with heading to the hills, in search of salubrious climes and much more.

My earliest memories go back to 1986 when my parents decided to go to the Queen of Hills, Shimla, during our summer vacation. My excitement knew no bounds. The first sight of the mighty massif of Kasauli overlooking the town of Kalka left me mesmerised.

My maiden visit to Shimla, however, was an anti-climax as we were greeted with a packed Ridge Maidan and a virtually overflowing Mall Road with barely a foot to put forward, that being the peak tourist season. The joy of the hills had got trampled under the huge rush of visitors.

My parents, however, had another plan. They decided to pay obeisance at the Tara Devi Temple located on the hill opposite the city of Shimla. My father being an avid trekker coaxed all of us to trudge up the 6km road from Shoghi.

It was a steep climb but an enjoyable one. The road wound up the hill through a dense forest of pine and fir trees and the breeze blowing through the foliage was truly invigorating. The road was all covered with pine needles with a fair number of pinecones strewn here and there. I had recently read the life cycle of gymnosperms, of which pinus is a member, in my botany classes and hence, it felt as if a whole lesson from my textbook had been opened in front of me by Mother Nature.

Before long, the sun disappeared behind a veil of clouds. In fact, the whole hill was draped in a wonderful mist. The only sounds we could hear were of our own footsteps. Soon, we heard another sound too, that of a mynah.

The rain was starting to fall. The sound of the ringing of bells at Tara Devi Temple told us that we had almost reached our destination. For once, I didn’t mind getting drenched. The lonely temple seemed so far away from the hustle and bustle of Shimla city that lay just across the valley.

This climb to Tara Devi Temple remains etched in my memory to this day because it taught me the joy of the hills in its true sense. The sights and sounds of the mountains can be heard only if we venture close to them, gently tread over their hearts and have the patience to listen to their conversations. Hills are, indeed, a joy to be with, only if, we choose to respect their existence in the pristine form.

THE ROAD WOUND UP THE HILL THROUGH A DENSE FOREST OF PINE AND FIR TREES AND THE BREEZE BLOWING THROUGH THE FOLIAGE WAS TRULY INVIGORATING