The Anoymous

There was a chill in the air; an unusual chill complemented by a deathly silence that pervaded the place. Guptakashi isn’t really a place that one could relate to the bustle of the world outside, its name highlighting the fact in bold letters. The village was more of a milestone than a destination; a sanctuary of tranquillity, a refuge from the tiresome search for moksha. It had taken me years to persuade myself for the char-dham visit. My mother, had she been here, would have been the happiest with my decision. The profession of a journalist rarely allows you the luxury of a vacation. It was almost three years that I had been chasing my dreams. Though not a novice anymore, but the thrill of reporting from the live field still had my adrenalin pumping. This was to be the break I deserved, before taking the leap forward.

My hotel was situated high up on the mountains, overlooking the Mandakini in all its glory. The morning was quieter than usual; neither could I hear the chirp of the birds, nor did the air resonate with the hymns of the pilgrims. I looked out of the window to check if I had woken up too early. The sun was high up on the horizon. Suddenly, I noticed something strange. A few houses that I had seen by the river had vanished. It seemed as if the banks had extended to twice the original span. The muddy waters carrying rocks as big as boulders were probably the omens of an impending disaster.

Even before I could react to the situation, a huge gush of water hit the land with horrifying intensity. I stood there petrified, gazing at the water engulfing everything that came its path. The roar of the water was so intense that it took me more than a minute to hear the persistent knocks on my door. I opened the door to find my friend Sambhav, horror evident on his face. “We must get out of the place. A cloud has burst nearby”, he said. I observed the people behind him, all in a frenzy to ensure their safety. Even the old man who had to be carried to the hotel last night seemed to be limping about in haste. “Is it really a life threatening situation?” I asked. “This isn’t a news field, this is death!” he screamed. Unaware of how to react to the situation, I followed him out of the hotel. All that I could manage to carry away in the haste was a raincoat, a packet of biscuits and a pack of cigarettes.

Sambhav wasn’t wrong; water was gaining ground much faster than I had estimated. Almost all the low lying areas had been robbed off their existence. As we moved higher onto the mountains, I witnessed our hotel disintegrate under nature’s wrath. The best building in the entire village had been no match to the fury of the aquatic terror. The giver of lives had decided to tilt the sand clock backwards, taking back everything that it had given.

We stopped after an hour. Moving merely on intuition wasn’t going to help in the mountains. With the rain pouring down on us, an escape route had to be planned. Only six of us had managed to escape from the hotel in time. Mandakini had taken away everyone else and was maybe waiting to claim the other survivors as well. “We have to stay together and work as a team”, said a middle aged man, who probably had assumed the role of the leader amongst us. “I am aware of a village on the other side of the mountain. Maybe we can get some help there”, Sambhav suggested. With no other options at our disposal, agreeing with him seemed the only way to survive.

The rain had stopped, but the darkness that surrounded us made us shiver to the bones. Hours of walking seemed to have been futile. There was hardly an evidence of any human civilisation in the vicinity. Lack of food and shelter weren’t the only things that we had to worry about. We had to be aware of predators that were on the prowl for a late dinner. A unanimous decision was made to continue walking, hoping that we would find help the next day. With almost twelve hours on the run, we had no idea of the intensity of the terror.

In an almost dozed off state, it was a Herculean task to even continue moving. Suddenly the ground beneath my feet trembled. The cloudy sky made it impossible to see where we were. It was when the rocks started tumbling that I realized that we were trapped in a landslide. Even before I could run for cover, the massive weight of rocks and soil above me swept me off my feet. I was hurtling down the mountain, bumping into rocks. Closing my eyes in disbelief, I tried joining my hands in a prayer, hoping that my script wouldn’t end in a painful death.

*~*~*~*~*

I opened my eyes to find myself in a thatched hut. I could have easily believed that I was dead, hadn’t that unbearable pain in my left arm made me cry out in pain. A young woman rushed into the hut. I had always heard and read about the beauty of the Pahari girls, but had never been fortunate enough to witness it myself. As she came closer to tend to my wounds, I observed her from a close distance. She looks better than the ones I’ve heard of. “Who are you?” I asked, hoping that she would understand my language. She did not reply. Maybe she did not speak my language. Ensuring that my arm was bandaged, she gestured me to follow her out of the hut. Her company had surely reduced the pain. I followed her out to find myself in the middle of nowhere. All that surrounded us were destroyed houses, uprooted trees and the stench of death. I observed her searching something in the corpses. To my horror, I realized that she was scavenging for eatables among the decaying bodies. I was about to throw up when she looked back and said, “Save those fluids. They may help you survive in this hell.” Even the thought of materialising her words made me sick. So gross for a beautiful girl.

Though my senses warned me against following her, but the crippling fear of being trapped in hell with rotting corpses overpowered all sense. There was a shroud of eeriness surrounding the girl. Neither did she speak, nor did she display any emotions. But, the one thing that I admired in her was the agility and confidence with which she manoeuvred through the hostile terrain. “Will you tell me where we are heading to?” I shouted from a distance. It was almost three hours since I last spoke, and the echo of my own voice sounded strangely different. “This is not one of your treks. Keep your mouth shut if you want to survive”, she screamed, visibly irritated. I had started hating her for the haughty demeanours. Accompanying her didn’t ensure my safety, but every minute in her presence was certainly pushing me towards insanity.

We stopped after what seemed an eternity. Hunger was driving me crazy, but I blatantly refused the food she offered me. Even the thought of taking down a morsel made me ponder how low she would have stooped for it. I slept empty stomach that night. Though we did not have cosy beds to sleep on, but the fire that she had lit was enough to keep my body and soul together. The fire did provide me warmth, but the fire in my stomach was raging with every passing moment. I couldn’t believe that I was actually lamenting at having rejected the food that was before me. It took me more than a moment to decide to get up and rummage for anything that was available. As I got up, I noticed a bundle of biscuits wrapped hastily into a cloth lying beside me. I tore open the cloth without a second thought. Nothing had ever provided me more relief than those inconspicuous looking biscuits. “Looks like you finally gave in to hunger”, I heard a voice behind me. Trying to avoid eye contact to save myself from further embarrassment, I said, “Sorry for being so rude.” “You don’t need to be. People from luxury are not expected to survive in these situations”, she replied. “I am Jayant, a journalist from BBC India”, I tried introducing myself. An awkward silence followed. Staring at the stars, she said, “All I know is that now I am an orphan, trying to survive in a world that doesn’t need me anymore.” The words brought a lump to my throat. I wanted to console her, but maybe I was much weaker than she was.

*~*~*~*~*

We moved forward with the first rays of the rising sun. Lack of rest and food had made me fidgety. A voice inside me said that she wouldn’t be able to ferry us to safety. All that I could do was to pray for my death to be a little less painful. God did listen to my prayers. In front of us was a stream, a rivulet to be exact. Though not more than fifty metres wide, but was enough to drown oneself to death. I would choose drowning over starving to death any day.

The girl had other plans. Maybe she still hoped that we could survive. “Open your clothes now”, she ordered. I looked at her startled. Had the despair of death got to her too? Did she want to do it before she died? Even before I could react, she ripped open my trousers. Filling it with water made it inflate like a life jacket. "Now hold onto this and try to swim along the stream”, she instructed pointing towards the rivulet.

My body froze with the first few drops of water that caressed my skin. It was more of the terror of the water than the chill that numbed my senses. It took me more than a Herculean effort to wade myself to the other side. Panting for breath, I looked at her for further instructions. “Maybe we should take a short break”, she said with a smile. For the first time in the lonesome thirty hours spent with her did I sense emotions. She isn’t that bad after all.

I realized that I had dozed off when she splashed water on my face to bring me back to the realms of the real world. Stirred up with the sudden upheaval, I stared at her with disgust. She was enveloped in an amalgam of dirt and blood. The stench of rotting flesh was unmistakeable. “Did you kill someone?” I shouted with bewilderment. “I wish I could”, she replied nonchalantly. Handing me over an apple, she sat down to nibble on the remainders of the biscuit that we ate last night. As I took the first bite, I felt guilt growing inside me. Though I did not want to share the apple, but I had to ask her out of courtesy. “Would you like to share the apple?” I asked. “No Sahabji, you need the food. You are lucky enough to know how hunger feels like.” None of the words she said made sense to me. How could someone be lucky to feel hungry? I looked at her blank, hoping for an explanation. I think she read my mind. She continued, “For feeling hungry, you need to know what a full stomach feels like. Not everyone can afford the luxury.” I looked away to avoid the tears that were swelling up in my eyes. People say that our generation has moved forward. But, the reality is that we have been stagnant at the same place, pushing the others back; thus creating the illusion of moving forward.

*~*~*~*~*

After fifty hours did we reach the outskirts of what seemed like a human civilisation. A sudden lease of life seemed to have spurred up my wasted body. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on the girl’s face. A few hundred metres further, I did realize the reason of her disappointment. How often does it seem that you are just about to touch the horizon and you realize that the horizon never existed? It’s only the farthest distance you can see. The horizon of my expectations had faded away too. The town, my one last hope for survival was nothing more than a heap of corpses. The living seemed to be waiting for a painful death and the dead were being scathed away by ruthless birds of prey. The shops were closed down; everything seemed to have gone astray. It felt as if I had trapped myself in some failed state, waiting to be obliterated away.

I felt that I would break down any moment, but the thought that my young companion was still standing firm amidst the misery filled me with a sense of purpose. As I was about to turn back and move, a cigarette tripped out of my pocket and fell onto the ground. Wet and filthy, it wasn’t of much consequence to me. Little did I realize that it could trigger the events that followed. People rushed towards me begging for help. I tried reasoning in peace, but they seemed adamant. The look on some of their faces terrified me. Before I could run for cover, a blow struck me right above the nostril. Everything went black after that.

I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by a heap of corpses. Either I was dead or the flies had mistaken me for one of my neighbours. Wriggling through the mess, I stumbled onto my feet. A few resilient flies still held onto my face, probably licking off the remainder of the blood that stuck to my face. The sight of humans did not gladden me this time. I had realized that they were mere animals, slaves to their own misery. The girl who had accompanied me was nowhere in sight. I rummaged through the corpses, praying that she hadn’t become one of them. “Looking for something?” I heard her voice behind me. Never had anyone’s voice made me happier. Swivelling back, I retorted, “Do you always like to spook the hell out of me?” “Seems you aren’t too happy to be alive”, she chuckled. “Did they want to eat me?” I tried extending the light mood that had started to build. “Kind of; looks like they took a fancy to your cigarettes.” “I can’t believe they are humans”, I said pointing to a group that was trying to break into a closed restaurant. “Depends on how you define the term ‘human’. Animals kill for survival, how can you rob them of even that choice only because they are humans?” We continued staring at the group that had finally broken in, only to return empty handed. She still had a smile on her face as she looked at the agitated beings, willing to let go of the ‘human’ tag to survive. My search for penance hadn’t ended, it had just begun.

*~*~*~*~*

We slept near the heap of bodies all night. Dead humans were much safer neighbours than a bunch of furious animals. Suddenly, my sleep was broken by a loud siren. The roar of an aeroplane flying above was unmistakable. Help had finally arrived. I shook her up to let her realize that our determination had finally sailed us through.

It was only a matter of minutes before I realized that I was only partially correct. The aerial help wasn’t there to ferry us to safety. They merely intended to drop down food packets before the actual help would arrive. I had no idea when the ‘actual’ help would arrive; it could be days, weeks or even months. The food packets could be the only the straw that could save us from drowning deeper into the quicksand. We made a plan to secure as many packets as we could, provided the animals let us have our way.

All eyes were set upon the sky, waiting patiently for the one thing that could them out of their misery; food. Chaos struck as soon as the first packet landed. Taking advantage of their lack of synchronisation, we managed to sneak through stuff that could last weeks. Retreating back to our territory, we ensured that our stores were out of their reach. They on the other hand had hardly managed a day’s ration each. “It won’t be long before they start hunting down each other”, she said, carefully stacking our reserves behind the corpses. It took me a minute to get those words down my system. The goose bumps were back.

Dusk had set in. The darkness had started to engulf us. I realized that I had to spend my fifth night out in the cold. Help, if any, could arrive only next morning. On the brighter side, we had food; food enough to make her realize what a full stomach feels like. As we took in the first morsel, I saw the others. They had probably run out of stock. A part of me felt sad for them, but the terrible experience of the previous morning made me detest them. I looked around to see if she harboured the same feelings as me. Surprisingly she wasn’t there! To my horror, I saw her approach the others with a few food packets. I waited patiently, ready to rescue her in case of an emergency. She stood there, well within their range, holding out the packet. I watched everything with bated breath. An old man approached her. The look in his eyes spoke of misery. Misery of having lost loved ones, misery of an empty stomach, misery of being a human. A few others approached her hesitantly. They thoroughly blessed her for the noble gesture. I was more than surprised to see the transformation a little act of kindness could have. Who says kindness is the luxury of the rich. It is the ornament of the brave. I had never felt more proud of being born a human.

*~*~*~*~*

I heard the sound of a chopper’s wings. Brushing it aside as a hallucination, I went back to sleep. Suddenly a loud thump on my back woke me up. It was real. The actual help had finally arrived. Watching the army men ferry the injured with agility made me repent not being one among the army. As I was being helped along to the chopper, I asked the army man beside me, “Where is the girl who was with me?” He did not reply.

Hopping aboard, I looked around to see if she had made it too. She wasn’t there. The joy of being rescued was washed away. Shrugging off all my premonitions, I started asking all of the others if they had seen her. None of them seemed to pay heed to my worries. “They aren’t rescuing the locals”, the same old man replied.

As the chopper lifted off the ground, I looked down. She was there, with a few others of her kind. None of them looked up. Maybe they knew that their time hadn’t come. A tear trickled down my cheek. Kindness may have a ten line definition in the dictionary, but only a few fortunate ones know what it actually means; I was one of them. I looked at her as long as she didn’t disappear from sight. The girl who saved my life; I still didn’t know her name.

*~*~*~*~*