The flies stay low to the ground, landing on bare feet with the occasional missing toenail. Sometimes they rise up to land on a sweating face, but the wind from the open windows sends them spinning back down low where the air is calm. I got used to the comforts of the train, but as fate would have it, I became acquainted with the bus, a soldier of the highway. We packed in tight. I sat in the back row where there was no seat in front of me, so my legs had room. The back row was the worst. We were just above the rear axle. Me and my brothers would shift and turn, trying to find a way to get comfortable. The bus bounced hard on every rock and pebble in the road. Reading was not an option - far too much movement. I just looked down the long stretch of aisle and out the windshield for 10 hours. My neck grew tired from trying to steady my bouncing head. I tried resting my head to the side on top of my backpack. Every bump sent my head flying high and falling hard again on my bag. That simply won’t do. I wedged my face in between my bag and the backrest, so that my head stayed relatively still, and my cheeks were used as shock absorption. Just when I felt lucky enough to slip into the abstract thoughts of a resting mind, the bus would hit a bump with such fury that me and the back seat crew would fly into the air, completely off the seat. We grasped, like frightened animals, for anything to soften the fall. We’d hit the seat hard and look at each other and laugh away our annoyance. We stopped at a dhaba for rest and food. I had my mandatory chai, an egg sandwich, and some sort of noodle stir fry. We hit the road again. It was hot and crowded. We were all sweating in the misery of the sun. The young man wedged next to me began to doze off. His bobbing head found its way to my shoulder. I have no problem lending a shoulder for someone to rest their weary head. I like to think someone would do the same for me.
I switched buses and began the ascent to Shimla. The mountains became extreme, and the bus did not move gently. The road was full of hairpin turns and we took them at high speed. The entire frame tilted hard away from the turn and everyone inside leaned into it for balance. I was certain we would flip. We rode long into the night. The temperature plummeted quickly. I put on my sweater, but that was nowhere near sufficient - it’s freezing. I occasionally took my eyes off the road and looked down into the steep cliffs of the valley a few inches away. Deeply unsettling. I made some friends on the bus. They were astonished that I have been traveling with no SIM card. No GPS, no messaging, no google, no booking hotels - just facing the brutality of every waking moment. It has increased the difficulty of everything on this trip. After a full day on the road, and hanging on for dear life, I arrived in Shimla at 9:00pm and took an expensive cab to my hotel. It doesn’t have heat or Wi-Fi. I need an exorcism.
P.S. I walked through the cold, dark, and deserted streets to find a place with Wi-Fi so I could upload this post. The lengths that I will go to.
Well written as usual
We were all with you