“What are they doing? They are taking too much time to do shopping and moving about on the Mall Road. Your wife and daughter should have finished their list and returned to the vehicle. It will get dark on the road back from Ooty to Masinagudi and the forest chowky gate will be closed. We will find it difficult to return to Upper Kargudi in time. Go and get them here. No. You do not go. You will not return in time. I will go and get them back with me.”
I smiled politely. I knew Sivaganesan from earlier times and I knew
his earnest attitude quite well. It was better that he went out to the Mall
Road and brought back my missus and daughter. They would know how to get around
my impatience and would take more time on shopping for whatever it was that
they had listed out as ‘must purchase’.
We were in a grand-old-ambassador with Mumbai number plates and our
driver, Bajaj, was laughing and smiling as was his usual manner. He was from
Thane but he had travelled with me and my colleagues on several multiple-month
journeys and was familiar with most circumstances. This was the first time that
Thulasi, my wife, and Harini, our daughter, had travelled so far away from
Mumbai and he was very accepting of their delay for all their reasons.
“Sir, Siva Sir is correct. We will find it difficult to convince the
forest chowky gate fellow to open to let us return to Masinagudi. Whatever your
argument will be, he will not agree after the big tussle that we had on our
drive up to Ooty, when Siva Sir had spoken to him. They know each other from
many years and he will not agree to help us.”
“I know. I am worried about that,” I replied, keeping an eye out on
the Mall Road. “It is quite crowded out here and Siva will not be able to
locate them so easily. They must be inside a woollens shop because my wife
wanted to purchase some blankets. They are not used to this winter and this
altitude. But, Harini seems quite ok with it.”
Bajaj gestured and pointed at one of the side streets. Siva had
caught up with my wife and daughter and they were returning towards the
vehicle. They were laughing and quite happy about something when Harini pointed
at a vendor with packets of locally made chocolates. Siva went up to the vendor
and did not seem to like it for he guided them to a shop that had a gaudily
painted board declaring ‘the best home-made Ooty chocolates in the world’ as
their product.
I laughed and shook my head. “Bajaj, now Siva has taken them inside
that shop and they are bound to get quite late. It is his fault, not ours.
Think about the return drive. We need to get some food packets and some fruits.
It will get dark and past dinner time. We may only get some tiffin shop near
Kargudi if it is not too cold or too foggy. Let us purchase some stuff from
somewhere near the car and be ready. Some biscuits also, perhaps. Some dry
fruits.”
Both of us hunted near enough to the car and made our purchases and
waited it out for more than thirty minutes or so. It was getting dark and the
mist was collecting above the houses on the Mall Road. Siva came out with
Thulasi and Harini and walked briskly to the car. He was already waving to Bajaj
to get the engine started and the car ready to go.
“Get in, Get in, I say,” He gestured to me. “What is this, you are
not ready? We have got chocolates for you and some packets are hot. Fresh made.
They asked us to take the newly made batch also. Come on, we have to start
driving and we can eat the chocolates before they get cold and solidified
completely. We have to rush to the chowky.”
Long and short of it was that we were quickly out of the Mall Road
and driving out of Ooty and were on the hill road going down to Masinagudi. The
scent of the eucalyptus and the tinge of the dinner wood fires from the huts
alongside the road overpowered us even as we drove past rapidly. The fog was
following us and getting lower as we motored on the downhill curves. Bajaj was
used to driving on such curves but he took extreme care. We slowed down, caught
the gravel on the treads as we turned, and picked up speed after each curve. It
was difficult to spot the road in the dusk and amidst the shadows from the nilgiri plantations. One had to be
careful not to overshoot the curve.
We reached the forest chowky gate and as expected it was closed. The
chowky guard was not to be seen nearby.
“Let me see if it is locked,” Siva said, alighting from the front
seat. “Bajaj, be ready. I will open the gate and you can drive past. I will
close the gate immediately after. The guard is not anywhere near. It is foggy
and cold. He must be inside, warming himself up. These fellows know that
vehicles will not be driving on this road in these late hours.”
Siva got to the gate and checked it. He pointed at the very obvious lock
on the gate. The guard was very clever, of course. He had closed the gate and
locked it and taken the key and gone in to stay warm and secure for the night.
Siva returned to the car and got the rear boot opened and was searching for
something. I was worried that he was thinking of breaking the lock. Bajaj
called out to Siva and the rear boot door was closed and he came up to the rear
window.
“Dai, did you purchase anything while at Ooty?” Siva asked. “Any
biscuits, fruits or food parcels? I know you, I say. You cannot go anywhere
without making sure that food is available and you would have got good food
packets.”
I smiled. I took out the food packets and showed them to Siva. “Why
do you ask? Are we going to stay here for the night? It will be quite cold if
we are to stay at the chowky. We can return and stay at Mohanraj’s house in
Ooty.”
“No. No return,” Siva said. “We have come this far and it will be
difficult to drive back up the ghat curves to Ooty now. Very dangerous. Give me
the food parcels and fruits and biscuits. These fellows need the food. It will
be useful to him and his family. Only problem is if he has already gone to
sleep. You come and stand next to me.”
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