SJD@NewDelhi BHPian



Join Date: Mar 2012 Location: New Delhi Posts: 174 Thanked: 204 Times

re: Malari Tales: Footloose in the Garhwal Himalayas DAY 3-5:



It was not an easy night .. I had retired for the night as early as 9pm after reaching Malari at 8 in the previous evening. Other then dozing off early, there was nothing much I could do in the deserted village. The angel of sleep had always been kind with me and within five minutes of wrapping myself in the blanket that I found in the barn, I fell into deep sleep.



It was 10:30 in the night, when I woke up suddenly. With all my senses awake, I sensed what had disturbed me. It was a rustling sound that was coming somewhere from somewhere near. The sound was either coming from the outer walls of the barn or from somewhere near my bed. It resembled as though something was dragging itself on the ground around me. My first reaction was to freeze with my heart pounding like a deer trying to escape a tiger. I was not particularly the type that believed in ghosts and stuff but I bet, strange sounds in an environment where you are all alone has the potential of striking terror in the hearts of the bravest among us. Taking care not to even let out a single breath, I froze at full alert and tried to pinpoint what it was. The source of the sound was peculiar; it never came from the same point from where it was last heard. It kept coming from different directions all around me and was never continuous. There was always a pregnant silence between the occurrings. My first guess was that it should be a snake, and as I was in a barn it would not be uncommon. Snakes come to barns often to prey on birds and rats taking shelter in the barn. But soon, I realized that the fast rustling movement can only be made by a far smaller animal and a snake would hardly venture all around the place. So in all probability, it should be a bird inside the barn .but again, I was proved wrong because on pinpointing the sound, I discovered that it came only from the floor which was heavily covered with straw. A bird generally perches on the rafters or bars of the barn wall and has no business on the ground. Finally after about an hour of following the sound and waiting patiently, I heard the rustling sound from beneath my makeshift bed when the animal tried to get on my bed. And then it hit me; ah ha ..it was a barn rat that was attracted towards me because of the smell of the food that I had unpacked, eaten and repacked the remaining. Immediately, it seemed as if someone shifted a dead weight from my heart and set it free



I shooed off the damned rat away, pulled the covers back on my legs and tried to doze off into an uneasy sleep. But the possessed animal dint want me to sleep peacefully, it repeatedly tried approaching my bed and everytime it was too near, I was forced to create a small ruckus to drive it away. As the night flew by, its attempt began to be punctured by longer breaks but I remember waking up at 12, 12:30, 1:45, and 3 to frighten it away. Every time I woke up, I would feel the mountain cold creeping in through my legs which would get exposed often from the cover of the blanket. The cold made me shiver throughout the night and I was forced to wear my boots on the bed to prevent the cold to some extent. All in all, I wouldnt term it as a particularly easy night !!



From around 3 in the morning, I was sleeping soundly without any disturbance. My alarm went off at 5am, and on peeping out of the covers, I saw that the morning light wasnt yet available abundantly so hesitated in getting out of the bed. It was by 5:40am that I was fully awake and came out of the barn to enjoy the beauty outside







Yours sincerely, outside his humble shelter of the previous night.







Those peaks in the distance, directly facing the village bewitched me.







Imagine a vast white expanse of conifers and snow.







A small settlement of concrete houses that I crossed enroute Malari, the previous night while trekking from the army camp. There were no signs of life.







But my eyes kept roving towards those peaks. Try hard as I may, but I couldnt help but keep gazing at them imagining what it would seem like to stand on the top of the highest peak and surveying the landscape before me.







The landscape was both scenic as well as rugged.







Houses on the upper side of the town as seen from the road leading through the village.







The barn hanging precariously on the lower side of the village. A wonderful place to spend the night







My plush 5-star accommodation for the night







The locked door that I had to break open to take shelter for the night.







Breaking and entering







A last glance back at the towering wall of mountain before having a quick breakfast and setting out on a brisk pace towards the border.







The road passing through the village of malhari leading towards Niti Pass.











Gram Malari







The village square housing the local makeshift post-office.







The long winding road leading to the border villages of Gamshali, Niti, Farkya, Bampa, Girthidobla & Sumna.







Wooden thatched huts of Malari.







The structural-pattern of the blue house reminded me of the houses in the Spiti valley.







The concrete house of the Gram Sabha, Malari.







The entrance gate of the Hiramani Temple located between the Malari village and the ITBP camp. It was about 6:45 in the morning and as I advanced through the village, I started encountering guys coming from the opposite side, gazing at me intently. Though not in uniform, but the way they conducted themselves, I was damn sure they were either from Army or ITBP.







A look back at the enchanting village of Malari. The yellow gate leads to the Hiramani temple that is used by locals as well as the ITBP guys for worshipping.







Mountains all around me; completely unadulterated view.







The Hiramani Temple, Malari.







The Malari and Niti valley is surrounded by numerous such beautiful snow clad mountains. The elevation of the Niti pass is 5800 m while that of the village is 3,600 m.











These mountains leads to Southern Tibet, de facto Chinese rule.







First view of the ITBP camp.



It was at this point that the guys crossing me from the opposite side and now returning towards the camp, accosted me. They wanted to know where I was going, who I was with and where I had stayed the previous night? After answering all the questions, I came to know that they were part of the recee group of the nearby ITBP camp. They saw me the first thing in the morning while in their rounds to the village and presumed me to be an army photographer due to my camo and DSLR. They further informed me that the road ahead is in very bad and fragile state and for my own safety, they cant let me pass their outpost because if any mishap occurs, they shall be held responsible for letting a civilian pass through their camp, at a time when even the local villagers havent yet returned to their villages.



They ITBP guys were a friendly lot. Unlike the Army, they follow the police system of hierarchy, i.e SI and Inspector instead of Lt. and Captain (sounds sense as their full form is Indo Tibetan Police Force). I was requested by the SI whose name was MN Deori to come to their camp, have warm breakfast and then leave the area. I was also requested not to click any more pictures of the camp site as the area was very near to the border. He along with another jawan accompanied me to their camp which was about 1.5kms ahead of Malari and served me a breakfast consisting 4 chapatis, cabbage subji and a cup of steaming tea. Though I dont drink tea I couldnt make myself say no to these extremely hospitable guys guarding our borders. I relished having warm breakfast under the open sky surrounded by snow-capped mountains with the chilly wind blowing while chatting with a couple of jawans.



The SI belonged to Dehradun while the accompanying jawan was from Karnprayag. They told me that they get leaves to visit their homes for a few days every two-three months. It was the beginning of April then, and snow thaws completely only by mid-end of May. The villagers starts coming back to their villages of Malari and the higher villages of Gamshali and Niti by 20th of April or beginning of May depending on the weather. They cultivate potatoes and apples while the season is on and descends to the towns of Joshimath and Chamoli when it starts snowing heavily by October in search of alternate means of employment. The main inhabitants are the Rongpa community who lives only in the trans-Himalayan regions of India-Tibet border. The name Rongpa is derived from the word "Rung", which means valley and "Pa" means inhabitants. Rongpas are generally founds on in the Chamoli district and its remote villages.



The SI asked me for my identity/ address proof and informed me that the Asst. Commandent of the camp - one Mr. Ravinder wanted to have a word with me. Upon completing my breakfast, he escorted me to the camp of the Asst. Commandent who was immediately upon me with a barrage of questions. The only difference was that he was more bewildered and less hostile/ inhospitable then the Army guys. He was bewildered that I, as a civilian had been able to come up to Malari in this season when it was out of limits for civilians and that civilians are allowed only upto Tapovan. I mentally disagreed with him as no one including the army guys had informed me about this. He expressed shock that the Army guys had let me pass their outpost the previous night and that the border was only about 50 kms. away. Again, this was another point of contention because later when I reached Joshimath and made inquiries with a mechanic who had been till Farkya to repair one of the army machine batteries, I was informed that it would be no less then 150-200 kms. in the minimum. Maybe the Commandent was trying to impress me with the gravity of the situation by exaggerating the facts a little bit. But overall, he was a decent guy. He also asked me if he could check my camera for the pics I had clicked as it was a sensitive border zone. I obliged and after checking, he deleted two pics revealing the position of the temple and the camp and requested me not to click any pics on my way back. But I was no saint; I take no pride in confessing that I re-clicked the pics he deleted on my way back for my/ my readers viewing pleasure.



Ravinder ji inquired if I was served breakfast and upon me affirming, he ordered a. Asst. SI to escort me back till Malari. Meanwhile, they discussed among themselves about the making of some report and I came to know that during off-season, the ITBP was required to make a report of every person who comes/ crosses their camp and if it seems suspicious, they were entitled to arrest such person (s) and hand them over to the police authorities in Joshimath/ Chamoli. Finally, they decided against the preparing of the report as they were sending me back and told me that if anyone inquired how I reached Malari, just answer casually that I was trekking and incidentally reached here. He was gentle enough to apologize for the inconvenience and asked me not to feel bad as the ITBP dint let me venture further, that it was for my own good, to come back when the season was more stable and shook my hands bidding me goodbye and wishing me luck for my return trip.



The Asst. SI escorted me a bit further from the camp towards the village from where I saluted him and started slowly trekking towards the village. I intentionally took a break too many to capture the scenic beauty before me.







The Rishi Ganga flowing serenely in the Nanda Devi Biosphere Reserve.



While resting on the roadside rocks, I saw a military truck approaching me from the ITBP camp and remembering their warning not to click pictures from near the camp, I started off briskly. Their way was marred by small boulders covering the road after cascading down the mountain side through-out the night, but it required the men only about 10 mins. to clear all the small boulders and reach me. One of them identified himself as the IO (Intelligence Officer) and asked me if I could produce my identity card again and the details of my bike that I had left downhill. He noted all the information down minutely in his diary and asked me to take a hitch in their truck which was going downhill nearby to refill water.



I joined the men and were they not a merry lot J I was welcomed by Mohit from Sirsa, SK Sandhu from Amritsar and Rathor from some distant district of Punjab to sit in their midst and share my story about how I managed to reach Malari at this time of the year. Mohit would again and again shake his head and tell me mischievously that I was there for some other motive to which I would keep a straight face and deny the very possibility of any other motive other then traveling and exploring.



Soon we crossed the Army camp and came upon a considerably big fresh water spring next to the camp where the truck reversed and the men descended to fill their water tanks. Mohit and co. shook hands with me warmly and remarked jindagi mein maine bohot logo se mila, lekin aap jaisa insaan pehli baar dekh rha hu (I have met a number of people in my life, but only today I have met a person like you) as a parting compliment for me; a compliment which I shall remember for the rest of my life and smile at the memory of the foolhardiness. I repent the fact that I was so engrossed in conversation with them that I completely forgot to click a parting click with the jovial group.







Yours truly in front of a temple that he crossed the previous evening in pitch black darkness. It was not an easy night .. I had retired for the night as early as 9pm after reaching Malari at 8 in the previous evening. Other then dozing off early, there was nothing much I could do in the deserted village. The angel of sleep had always been kind with me and within five minutes of wrapping myself in the blanket that I found in the barn, I fell into deep sleep.It was 10:30 in the night, when I woke up suddenly. With all my senses awake, I sensed what had disturbed me. It was a rustling sound that was coming somewhere from somewhere near. The sound was either coming from the outer walls of the barn or from somewhere near my bed. It resembled as though something was dragging itself on the ground around me. My first reaction was to freeze with my heart pounding like a deer trying to escape a tiger. I was not particularly the type that believed in ghosts and stuff but I bet, strange sounds in an environment where you are all alone has the potential of striking terror in the hearts of the bravest among us. Taking care not to even let out a single breath, I froze at full alert and tried to pinpoint what it was. The source of the sound was peculiar; it never came from the same point from where it was last heard. It kept coming from different directions all around me and was never continuous. There was always a pregnant silence between the occurrings. My first guess was that it should be a snake, and as I was in a barn it would not be uncommon. Snakes come to barns often to prey on birds and rats taking shelter in the barn. But soon, I realized that the fast rustling movement can only be made by a far smaller animal and a snake would hardly venture all around the place. So in all probability, it should be a bird inside the barn .but again, I was proved wrong because on pinpointing the sound, I discovered that it came only from the floor which was heavily covered with straw. A bird generally perches on the rafters or bars of the barn wall and has no business on the ground. Finally after about an hour of following the sound and waiting patiently, I heard the rustling sound from beneath my makeshift bed when the animal tried to get on my bed. And then it hit me; ah ha ..it was a barn rat that was attracted towards me because of the smell of the food that I had unpacked, eaten and repacked the remaining. Immediately, it seemed as if someone shifted a dead weight from my heart and set it freeI shooed off the damned rat away, pulled the covers back on my legs and tried to doze off into an uneasy sleep. But the possessed animal dint want me to sleep peacefully, it repeatedly tried approaching my bed and everytime it was too near, I was forced to create a small ruckus to drive it away. As the night flew by, its attempt began to be punctured by longer breaks but I remember waking up at 12, 12:30, 1:45, and 3 to frighten it away. Every time I woke up, I would feel the mountain cold creeping in through my legs which would get exposed often from the cover of the blanket. The cold made me shiver throughout the night and I was forced to wear my boots on the bed to prevent the cold to some extent. All in all, I wouldnt term it as a particularly easy night !!From around 3 in the morning, I was sleeping soundly without any disturbance. My alarm went off at 5am, and on peeping out of the covers, I saw that the morning light wasnt yet available abundantly so hesitated in getting out of the bed. It was by 5:40am that I was fully awake and came out of the barn to enjoy the beauty outsideYours sincerely, outside his humble shelter of the previous night.Those peaks in the distance, directly facing the village bewitched me.Imagine a vast white expanse of conifers and snow.A small settlement of concrete houses that I crossed enroute Malari, the previous night while trekking from the army camp. There were no signs of life.But my eyes kept roving towards those peaks. Try hard as I may, but I couldnt help but keep gazing at them imagining what it would seem like to stand on the top of the highest peak and surveying the landscape before me.The landscape was both scenic as well as rugged.Houses on the upper side of the town as seen from the road leading through the village.The barn hanging precariously on the lower side of the village. A wonderful place to spend the nightMy plush 5-star accommodation for the nightThe locked door that I had to break open to take shelter for the night.Breaking and enteringA last glance back at the towering wall of mountain before having a quick breakfast and setting out on a brisk pace towards the border.The road passing through the village of malhari leading towards Niti Pass.The village square housing the local makeshift post-office.The long winding road leading to the border villages of Gamshali, Niti, Farkya, Bampa, Girthidobla & Sumna.Wooden thatched huts of Malari.The structural-pattern of the blue house reminded me of the houses in the Spiti valley.The concrete house of the Gram Sabha, Malari.The entrance gate of the Hiramani Temple located between the Malari village and the ITBP camp. It was about 6:45 in the morning and as I advanced through the village, I started encountering guys coming from the opposite side, gazing at me intently. Though not in uniform, but the way they conducted themselves, I was damn sure they were either from Army or ITBP.A look back at the enchanting village of Malari. The yellow gate leads to the Hiramani temple that is used by locals as well as the ITBP guys for worshipping.Mountains all around me; completely unadulterated view.The Malari and Niti valley is surrounded by numerous such beautiful snow clad mountains. The elevation of the Niti pass is 5800 m while that of the village is 3,600 m.These mountains leads to Southern Tibet, de facto Chinese rule.First view of the ITBP camp.It was at this point that the guys crossing me from the opposite side and now returning towards the camp, accosted me. They wanted to know where I was going, who I was with and where I had stayed the previous night? After answering all the questions, I came to know that they were part of the recee group of the nearby ITBP camp. They saw me the first thing in the morning while in their rounds to the village and presumed me to be an army photographer due to my camo and DSLR. They further informed me that the road ahead is in very bad and fragile state and for my own safety, they cant let me pass their outpost because if any mishap occurs, they shall be held responsible for letting a civilian pass through their camp, at a time when even the local villagers havent yet returned to their villages.They ITBP guys were a friendly lot. Unlike the Army, they follow the police system of hierarchy, i.e SI and Inspector instead of Lt. and Captain (sounds sense as their full form is Indo Tibetan Police Force). I was requested by the SI whose name was MN Deori to come to their camp, have warm breakfast and then leave the area. I was also requested not to click any more pictures of the camp site as the area was very near to the border. He along with another jawan accompanied me to their camp which was about 1.5kms ahead of Malari and served me a breakfast consisting 4 chapatis, cabbage subji and a cup of steaming tea. Though I dont drink tea I couldnt make myself say no to these extremely hospitable guys guarding our borders. I relished having warm breakfast under the open sky surrounded by snow-capped mountains with the chilly wind blowing while chatting with a couple of jawans.The SI belonged to Dehradun while the accompanying jawan was from Karnprayag. They told me that they get leaves to visit their homes for a few days every two-three months. It was the beginning of April then, and snow thaws completely only by mid-end of May. The villagers starts coming back to their villages of Malari and the higher villages of Gamshali and Niti by 20th of April or beginning of May depending on the weather. They cultivate potatoes and apples while the season is on and descends to the towns of Joshimath and Chamoli when it starts snowing heavily by October in search of alternate means of employment. The main inhabitants are the Rongpa community who lives only in the trans-Himalayan regions of India-Tibet border. The name Rongpa is derived from the word "Rung", which means valley and "Pa" means inhabitants. Rongpas are generally founds on in the Chamoli district and its remote villages.The SI asked me for my identity/ address proof and informed me that the Asst. Commandent of the camp - one Mr. Ravinder wanted to have a word with me. Upon completing my breakfast, he escorted me to the camp of the Asst. Commandent who was immediately upon me with a barrage of questions. The only difference was that he was more bewildered and less hostile/ inhospitable then the Army guys. He was bewildered that I, as a civilian had been able to come up to Malari in this season when it was out of limits for civilians and that civilians are allowed only upto Tapovan. I mentally disagreed with him as no one including the army guys had informed me about this. He expressed shock that the Army guys had let me pass their outpost the previous night and that the border was only about 50 kms. away. Again, this was another point of contention because later when I reached Joshimath and made inquiries with a mechanic who had been till Farkya to repair one of the army machine batteries, I was informed that it would be no less then 150-200 kms. in the minimum. Maybe the Commandent was trying to impress me with the gravity of the situation by exaggerating the facts a little bit. But overall, he was a decent guy. He also asked me if he could check my camera for the pics I had clicked as it was a sensitive border zone. I obliged and after checking, he deleted two pics revealing the position of the temple and the camp and requested me not to click any pics on my way back. But I was no saint; I take no pride in confessing that I re-clicked the pics he deleted on my way back for my/ my readers viewing pleasure.Ravinder ji inquired if I was served breakfast and upon me affirming, he ordered a. Asst. SI to escort me back till Malari. Meanwhile, they discussed among themselves about the making of some report and I came to know that during off-season, the ITBP was required to make a report of every person who comes/ crosses their camp and if it seems suspicious, they were entitled to arrest such person (s) and hand them over to the police authorities in Joshimath/ Chamoli. Finally, they decided against the preparing of the report as they were sending me back and told me that if anyone inquired how I reached Malari, just answer casually that I was trekking and incidentally reached here. He was gentle enough to apologize for the inconvenience and asked me not to feel bad as the ITBP dint let me venture further, that it was for my own good, to come back when the season was more stable and shook my hands bidding me goodbye and wishing me luck for my return trip.The Asst. SI escorted me a bit further from the camp towards the village from where I saluted him and started slowly trekking towards the village. I intentionally took a break too many to capture the scenic beauty before me.Theflowing serenely in the Nanda Devi Biosphere Reserve.While resting on the roadside rocks, I saw a military truck approaching me from the ITBP camp and remembering their warning not to click pictures from near the camp, I started off briskly. Their way was marred by small boulders covering the road after cascading down the mountain side through-out the night, but it required the men only about 10 mins. to clear all the small boulders and reach me. One of them identified himself as the IO (Intelligence Officer) and asked me if I could produce my identity card again and the details of my bike that I had left downhill. He noted all the information down minutely in his diary and asked me to take a hitch in their truck which was going downhill nearby to refill water.I joined the men and were they not a merry lot J I was welcomed by Mohit from Sirsa, SK Sandhu from Amritsar and Rathor from some distant district of Punjab to sit in their midst and share my story about how I managed to reach Malari at this time of the year. Mohit would again and again shake his head and tell me mischievously that I was there for some other motive to which I would keep a straight face and deny the very possibility of any other motive other then traveling and exploring.Soon we crossed the Army camp and came upon a considerably big fresh water spring next to the camp where the truck reversed and the men descended to fill their water tanks. Mohit and co. shook hands with me warmly and remarked jindagi mein maine bohot logo se mila, lekin aap jaisa insaan pehli baar dekh rha hu (I have met a number of people in my life, but only today I have met a person like you) as a parting compliment for me; a compliment which I shall remember for the rest of my life and smile at the memory of the foolhardiness. I repent the fact that I was so engrossed in conversation with them that I completely forgot to click a parting click with the jovial group.Yours truly in front of a temple that he crossed the previous evening in pitch black darkness.