When heaven turns to hell...

Bikers can be sub divided into many types. The most common classification can be ‘Tourers’, ‘Racers’, ‘Stunters’ and ‘Commuters – people who call themselves bikers just because they own one.’ And then there are some who would like to do everything, from commuting on the street to blazing open highways and turning twisties (ghats) into their own little race track. We somewhat belong to that category. We are always in search of high speed corners with least traffic and more important, least chances of an accident involving other elements of traffic. A few ghats do offer this bliss to us bikers. A bliss to an extent that these places are as good as heaven for us. Instead of living for more than half a century and being dependable on your relatives in the last years of your life, its better to crash and die in such a heaven. Yes, the crash better be fatal, else the ‘dependant’ factor will enter your life much much earlier. Anyway, bitter part aside, lets get back to our heaven. In and around Pune, the places we like to invade again and again are the Khambatki ghats and the road to Amby Valley, courtesy Sahara Group.

During the rains we don’t really go to the Khambatkis because the Katraj ghats which are the origin of the highway to Khambatki turns into a lunar surface. A new pothole is born every minute on these roads. So by the time you cross these, your vehicle’s suspension is ruined. So there is absolutely nothing left to enjoy by the time you reach Khambatki. Hence the only heaven that we can raid during monsoons is Amby Valley, or so we think.

This time around, we decided to go to Amby Valley at night. The mode of transport was not a bike, but a car. Five people, me, 2 friends and a couple. At 10ish we set out on a trip which was not to an unfamiliar destination. But still we had goose bumps even thinking about it. We took the express way, the fastest way to reach Lonavla on 4 wheels. It took us around 16 mins to touch Lonavla. By around 11 we were sitting at Smokin’ Joes for an Italian dinner with an Indian touch. We knew we wouldn’t get any food at Amby Valley due to the rains. So a variety of hot pizzas was a good option. The rains had gotten heavier in Lonavla. My car was parked outside, right in front of the pizza joint. The rain water was caressing each and every curve of this beauty. The sight was nothing less than watching a beautiful lady having a graceful bath. Inside, we were sitting on a nice wooden dinner furniture with our nose being tickled by the wonder aroma of the cheese melting on those pizzas as they were being baked. In spite of the cold weather outside, a glass of soft drink was still very soothing on the throat. After treating ourselves to a wonderful dinner, we finally came to know that we were the only customers inside and that it was time for the joint to pull the shutters down. We cleaned up the dirty work of paying the bills and moved out. It was around 1 in the night and we were going to head for Amby Valley.

Amby Valley is actually built in a valley with its entrance not at the bottom of the mountain but at the top of it. It’s supposedly a wonderful drive up there, only if you know how to enjoy it. We joined the way to Amby Valley, a dark black, winding stretch of road disappearing into such infinite curves that the horizon was not visible at all. The sky looked like a reflection of the road, broad and dark, the stars appearing like the small lights we could see around on the land. It was a complete mirror image. For some reason all were silent. The only sound that could be heard was that of the rain drops hitting the surface of my car and breaking into millions of small droplets. We could feel the temperatures of our blood dropping slowly. We were still silent. The headlights were trying to give their best possible illumination. After a few curves, things were getting worse. The rain was slowly reducing. Liquid reality turned to a gaseous one. A moist fog was slowly making an entrance. It felt as if someone was blowing the fog onto us. Small streaks of wind flowed through it. The fog started getting denser as we were hunting for the white marker lines beside the road as guidance for driving further and on the right track. No civilization could be seen anywhere. The vipers were working vigorously to keep the windshield clean. A few more curves, the fog seemed to be thinner. We decided to stop. As soon as the engine stopped everything broke into a complete silence. So silent that we could hear heartbeats coming from five sources. We dared to get out of the vehicle. We could just see the road a few meters ahead of us. Everything else was covered in fog. Only our surrounding ground was with a thin layer of fog. The feeling was no less than standing in the middle of a spotlight with thousands of eyes watching you. It sure did feel like we were being watched by someone. Maybe the same someone who was blowing the fog onto us. Maybe the same someone who cleared a small stretch of road for us. May be the same someone who was responsible for the silence. Maybe the same someone who was commanding the pace of our heartbeats. Even the hustle of wet leaves with each other was trying to say something. Maybe it wanted us to go back. Maybe nature was having its own party that night and were the party crashers. It seemed so, because the look we were getting from the environs was nothing less than the look an unwelcome party crasher gets. No one had the u-know-what to go ahead into the hypnotizing fog. We were going into a state of brain freeze already. We turned the car around with much difficulty and finally set out on our way back. Things started getting even spookier. The road which we came on was covered with heavy rains on our way up. But on the way back the same road under the blanket of the same dense fog that was staring at us a few mins earlier. There was no sign of rain. We somehow finished the downhill and entered the heart of Lonavla again. We were over-joyed to glimpse civilization around. The road that is heaven for all bikers during the other 9 months of the year, was worse than hell in those 90 mins. Even with the air-con switched on, most of us were sweating. We didn’t need to talk about what he had been through. The mind waves were communicating with each other and that was enough to keep us all silent.

We joined the express way again. We were ready to face a heavy rain again, but no fog. We thought that it was the end of the nightmare. But it wasn’t. My fuel indicator was gearing up to bungee jump to the red line, only to stay there and not come up again like a normal bungee jump would. According to my knowledge of the Express way, there was no fuel pump anywhere till the end of the highway. That meant around 40 kms to be done. The air-con had to go off. The fogging that it lead to on the windshield had to be taken care of by the trusty old cloth. We had to drive in an economy mode. And even after all this, there was no guarantee if she would be able to make it till the end. For some reason, it felt like that someone was still watching us. We were crawling on the road trying to burn each drop of petrol with the best possible efficiency. The end of the express way was driving closer and the gap between the fuel indicator needle and the end of the scale could only be read with a microscope. We could see the light of the fuel pump at some distance. The light to us, was similar to what the light at the end of the tunnel would mean to dying person. We finally arrived at the pump. Barely 100 meters before the pump, the car started giving us a jerky response. On reaching the station we found no attendants to fill her up. Finally after honking a couple of times, a man with a torch in his hand, and wrapped in blankets came walking towards us. He had sore red eyes which didn’t blink even once as he approached us. It felt as if these would the same eyes watching us along our trip. We told him the amount to fill up and he did that without a word, juggling his line of sight continuously between the fuel meter and the people inside the car. After he filled up I just handed over the money to him and got my butt moving immediately. I dropped everyone back to their homes and set back on a journey to mine. Things were calming down in my head. It was almost an hour before dawn. But the dark clouds still hovered in the sky. The horizon was still not visible. I was cruising back. Had no intentions or energy to floor the pedal. When I was almost near my place, I saw a ‘cyclewala’ standing at the side of the road. God knows what he was up to, why he was standing there. All that I could notice was, even he was staring at me. The last 1 km was finished with blazing the street. I had enough of everyone staring at me. My building gate was closed. I got down from my car, opened the gate and sat back to drive the car into the parking. A stray dog that always runs behind every car including mine, no matter what weather, what time, was sitting silently in the corner of my parking today. His ears were up and eyes again, were staring at me. Right from the point I parked the car, till the point I started climbing the stairs, those eyes were following me. I didn’t check my mail, I didn’t switch on the monitors. All I did was just crash on the bed. I don’t remember if I had any dreams. I don’t remember if I got up shouting. All I know is - I had been through a nightmare.

***This picture was taken at the place where we stopped. Not even a single pixel on it is doctored.