The best way to solve a problem is to run away from it. This was the dictum applied in Madhya Pradesh when the state decided to close down its state transport, which was running heavily in loss. During my recent trip to the state, I travelled extensively in buses, and got a first hand experience of the situation.
My first trip was from Ujjain to Indore. This is among the shortest distance between two cities in the state- around 55 km, and I went to the bus stand to take a bus. What I found unusual was that I could not find a single government bus, and thus took a private one. The bus did not move until it was full of passengers, and there was no space to stand. The bus reached Indore and I took an auto to my destination. The next day, I had to visit Mandu. I reached a bus stand, where I was told to go to another bus stand at a different corner of the city. Reaching there was difficult again, as there was no satisfactory public transport- read good city buses, and I had to take a van, which was unsafe, crowded and slow. The other bus stand is called ‘Gangwal Bus Stand’. It is also like any other bus stand in a town, just that only Private buses ply from here. Local buses in MP are mainly small buses, run by Private operators. These buses do not depart till full, and thus, the drivers drive rash to cover the distance in a short time. Since I was not aware about which route to take, I ended up taking the longer route via Pitampura- the Industrial Belt of Indore, and MP. This bus was also overcrowded, and the road condition was bad to say the least. I was saddened by the state of roads in Madhya Pradesh, specially when I was expecting better conditions. Many trucks ply on this route, and the road is a mere dirt track in many areas. There seems no reason for the road to be in this state. This is the major industrial hub of MP, just outside Indore, the terrain is mostly plain- then why is the road bad? This accompanied with the type ofbus we were travelling did not make for a memorable experience. The journey to Dhar took a lot of time, but then, I was lucky to find another bus standing for Mandu. This bus was full when I entered it, and I could barely find a hip- hold. Still more people came in, and after 10 minutes, the bus was ready to depart. This journey also took more than an hour for around 30 kilometres. Just before Mandu, there was a helipad, and from the helipad till Mandu, the road was smooth. So, if some VIP comes, he would not know what LIP (Least Important Person) like me undergoes to come here. Anyways, there was no option to move around Mandu but the exorbitant Taxi service. We moved around on foot, as there was hardly any time to visit the palaces which were far, while the near ones could be approached on foot. While returning, there was no bus, and we had to take a taxi, costing us 1200 INR. Even if we could find a bus to Dhar, there was no certainty of finding a connecting bus to Indore, and if we reached late in night, there was no certainty of finding a transport back home. Thus, we had to hire a taxi. Why am I writing this?
The conclusion is:
1) Citizens are suffering because the government is shying away from its responsibility to provide public transport.
2) Inside the city, there is no reliable method to commute.
3) Safety is the last concern in minds of drivers of private buses, and they endanger many lives.
4) There is no fixed time table according to which buses run. There might be the existence of some time table, but it does not appear prominently, nor is it followed.
5) There is no certainty of getting a bus, so one has to be prepared for failures and delays.
Archive for December, 2011
19 Dec
(Late) Madhya Pradesh State Road Transport
10 Dec
Chopta, Tungnath and Chandrashila
The alarm rang at 3:30. Since this day involved visiting a temple, and since warm water was available, Karan had a bath, and woke up Kunal. Getting up at 4 was not difficult somehow, and by 5, they had left for Chopta. The temperature outdoors was sub- zero. The roads were covered with frost, and not a single vehicle was encountered on the 30 km stretch. This was not a national highway, but a connecting road, less travelled. It was expected to sight a tiger, or a leopard, or a bear atleast, but not even monkeys were out of their slumber, and the only animal they saw was a mountain Bhotiya dog when they reached Chopta.
Chopta is at 2700 metres above sea level. It is also called as the ‘Switzerland of India’, probably because of the views of snow clad peaks, seen from here, but more so because some person, at some point of time, must have felt the same as Switzerland when he arrived here, and the simili continued. There were only two shops in Chopta, opposite to each other. Their owner was sleeping, and was woken up. Tea was served, and the burning chulha provided the much needed warmth. Without delay, both Karan and Kunal had some maggi, packed few biscuits for the day and departed for Tungnath.
karan asked Kunal to take the lead, so that they could walk alone, and think; that is what they came here for. This was to be a bit longer than DeoriaTal, and higher. For Karan, it was difficult to climb after a certain height, and he moved up slowly. They had the Himalayas tp themselves. There was nobody apart from them, and they too were walking in isolation. The way winded up, with stunning views of the Himalayas. Karan decided not to have anything till he reached Tungnath, and finally, after 90 minutes, reached the temple. The temple was shut for the winters, and Kunal was waiting there. Karan was too tired to move ahead, and asked Kunal to go ahead.
Tungnath is at a height where breathing becomes difficult for those who are susceptible to mountain sickness. Karan was feeling tired, as he was in Delhi just the previous day, and now was exhausted after the climb. He still removed his shoes, and his soles froze as he walked barefoot around the temple. After saying a silent prayer, he has some biscuits, a banana, some water, and lied on a patch where sunlight was making the ground bearable. He slept for 30 minutes, waiting for the lord to appear in his dreams, but his mind was too blank to dream anything. The last part of the trek was still remaining- Chandrashila, at the height of 4090 metres. He gathered strength, and set off on the trail leading to Chandrashila, which was steeper than what he had witnessed till now. Another 30 minutes and he was at the summit, which was higher than the surrounding mountains. From there was seen an uninterrupted view of the Himalayas, with its snow-clad peaks forming a continuous wall in the north, and the sun at its full glory in the noon. He called out for Kunal, and when he received no reply, thought that Kunal had taken the wrong way, suddenly, Kunal called back and with whatever strength Karan was left with, he moved towards Kunal.
‘Lets stay here till sunset’, said Kunal.
‘Then how would we return in the dark?’
‘That is what I want to see. I want to see death- the ultimate fear.’
They had talked about this before- The fear of death, which always looms in the mind of man, more so when he dares to do something where there is a slight chance of peril to his life.
karan was not much keen about staying there till sunset, but then thought, lets see what happens. It is just 1 pm. The sun was making the climate warm, at 4000 metres. And all that Karan could think of was to doze off. He tried to meditate, to concentrate, but all that came to his mind was silly dialogues, bollywood songs and irrelevant stuff. It was better for him to relax, and he dozed off on a rock, feeling the warm sun, the sharp UV rays, burning his skin, and the silence. He was awakened by a crow, whose presence at this height surprised him. A jet black crow came there in search of food, with his mate. He now went to Kunal, and they shared some snacks. Kunal was preparing a joint, Karan was still uninitiated in this practice. Kunal went to the edge of the cliff, and smoked the joint, Karan tried again to close his eyes. He was woken up and realised that he was not very comfortable, breathing heavily even when at rest. Also, he was not very keen to get down after sunset, as fear still loomed large in his mind, primarily the thought of being the only son, the only expectation. Man tries to justify his point, and this physical discomfort gave him a chance to give a reason for an early descent down the slope.
‘I am not feeling very well, and we should leave before its late. I am also hypertensive.’
Kunal looked disappointed on hearing this, but he was kind enough to consider this, and they left Chandrashila by 3:30 PM.
This was also not a very good experience for Karan. He could not find peace, he was just checking places on a mental checklist, without immersing himself in the place, or being able to find peace. He suggested of taking the direct slope downhill, instead of taking the regular path. The grass provided sufficient friction to prevent them from slipping, and they went down the slope, towards the forests. The tree line was extending towards the way from where we came. So, we started sliding down the slope, sometimes standing up to walk. There could be many snakes in this grass, and we spotted many rat-holes, who knows what varieties of snakes are hibernating down there, but somehow, the fear was all gone, and adventure was in. On descending, they realised that the jungle looked different as one goes near it. The floor is rugged, uneven, and difficult to negotiate.
At last, when repeated attempts of walking in the jungle were faced by obstacles, we again went up, to join the paved way. The sun was setting behind the hills, and sunsets are dear to Kunal. He just sat there, mesmerised. karan was busy in clicking pictures- of the snow-covered peaks turning orange, the hills getting engulfed in fog, the setting sun, the silhuettes of trees, and Kunal, who sat there, unmoved. They reached down before it was too dark, and had tea. Ehile going up, they had also seen the three IT guys whom Karan met at Deoriatal. The thought of how those guys would return in the dark was at the back of their minds, but soon, the three guys returned, and they had descended in record time. Dinner was simple, as it was supposed to be. A campfire was lit, Kishore Kumar’s songs were sung, and everyone got to discuss the awesome places they had been to, the remote treks they wish to go, and the plan for the next day. Kunal and Karan returned to a room which was to be their abode for the night. It was cold outside, and a look at the map, as well as discussions with the locals helped them to figure out the next destination- Anasuya Devi. Karan wished to visit the valley of Flowers, but it was also closed for the winters. Mobile Network here was erratic, and the desire to call someone was also diminished by the silent surroundings. Getting up was fixed at 5 am, but none of them woke up before 8, they had breakfast by 11, also, both of them bathed in icy waters- a daring feat to accomplish, and an entirely mad experience, which gave the strength to face any magnitude of cold. Shouts came out of the bathroom when either of them was bathing. The more you shout, the better your tolerance becomes.
Bisht ji was their host in Chopta, the owner of the shop where they had food. Also, there was a minor squabble between their host and the forest guy who was posted there, regarding charging the entry fee, f going towards Tungnath, as they had already returned now. Friendly words and hugs solved the matter, and though late, both the travellers departed to their next destination, the town of Mandal from where the trek to Anasuya began.
10 Dec
Deoriatal and ahead
People at the marketplace in Ukhimath were busy in their work, cursorily looking at him and then carrying on their routine. Karan though that it would be possible to get an accomodation at the temple, asked for the way and was guided to a stairway descending down from the market. There was a clinic on the way, where he stopped to ask a lady regarding places to stay, and if rooms were available at the temple. She got shy, smiled and said Yes, and looked the other way. He continued his walk and reached the temple. A dharmashala was adjoining it, where he was asked by a man, ‘what do you want?’
‘Can I get a room to stay?’
‘How many people?’
‘I am alone?’
‘No rooms for singles.’
‘I am a doctor and came to visit Ukhimath as Kedarnath is shut in winters.’
‘Come lets meet swamiji.’
He took him to a ‘swamiji’ who was in his thirties, and a typical priest, with a priest belly. All the rooms were vacant, and he gave a room to Karan after verifying the details.
‘Rs 300.’
Karan never expected this amount to be paid for his stay at a temple. He said politely, ‘Swamiji, in the register, people have paid Rs 150.’
No, that is for Kannadas and Maharashtrians. But you can pay Rs 250.
‘Okay, so now whats the use of displaying my marathi skills?’ he thought, and took out the money. The room was clean, and he had not come here to stay indoors. He took a bath, his first ‘cold water bath’ in the hills, and went up the way he had come, to reach the market.
He was hungry, but since it was already 2 pm, he was thinking of the earliest transport to Saari, the village from where the trek to Deoria Tal starts.
‘Saari ke liye to ab koi gaadi nahi hai- there’s no vehicle for Saari now, aap personal gaadi kar lo.’
‘Yaar student hu, personal to nahi kar sakta.’ The best thing about being 25 is, that you can also be a doctor when you need things to move ahead, and a student when you wish to get concessions.
Realising that he would have to wait, he roamed around, has food and returned.
‘Sir, woh jeep walla saari jaega, uski savaari udhar wait kar eahi hai.’
He realised that a jeep was going there to pick up people who were there, and Karan sat in the jeep, alone. The driver was in no hurry to move, and he dozed off, until a sound woke him up; he saw three guys near the jeep, in a hurry to depart for Saari. They were from Delhi, IT guys, going to Deoria tal. Finally, the jeep moved, as travellers exchanged pleasantries, and shared the journey plans.
These guys were to stay there in the night; he had to return to his room. On getting down, he saw a Pune – MH12 registered bike.
‘This must be an interesting guy who has driven down from Pune, would be great to meet him.’
Negi ji was the camp organiser in Deoriatal, who catered to the demands of trekkers. The people whi were to depart by this jeep were still uphill, and there was a chance to return by the same jeep. Negi ji told that the biker guy was up for the past 3 days.
Karan waited for none, and started his trek to uphill. This was the first day, the first trek, adn he was in a hurry. Half way, he saw the family of three who hired the jeep, coming down.
‘I have to leave on my own, lets see.’ and he continued moving.
‘Bhaiya, aap to thak gaye,’ said one among the three garhwali women who were also walking up. ‘Hum to roj do baar upar jaate hain,’ another one chipped in, the third one offered a malta to eat.
Kunal was coming down after three days in DeoriaTal, singing an old song, ‘koi humdum na raha, koi sahara na raha.’
‘Must be a lonely guy, but yes, this is the one with the bike,’ thought Karan.
‘Thodi der baithoge,’ he said to Kunal, tired of walking uphill.
‘Haan zaroor’
‘aap Pune se ho?’
‘haan,’
‘bike lekar aaye ho wahan se’
‘haan’
‘maine bhi wahan se MBBS ki hai,’
‘accha’
‘abhi aap kahan jaoge’
‘dekhte hain. Yahan se Chopta, fir Tungnath, Chandrashila.’
‘Mujhe neeche tak chood dena, main abhi aata hu. Yahan se main Ukhimath jaaunga’
‘Thik hai, main 30 min wait karunga, jaldi aa jaana’
Karan went uphill with double the pace, and reached the lake. This is said to be the lake where Pandavas were asked questions by the yasha when they came here thirsty.
The first sight of lake was disappointing. It was a small pool of water, with reflections of the Himalayas. From here, was seen the snow-covered ‘Chaukhamba Peak’. Sitting by the lake gave him some rest, but after clicking a few snaps, he thought of going down.
‘This is not what I came here to do, I am just checking off items from the list, and clicking pictures to prove that I was here,’ this thought troubled him, but there was little to do there, and he returned, running down the mountain slope, and reaching within 20 minutes.
Kunal was sitting on his bike, tying his bag to his bike. The jeep had left, as expected.
Karan was happy that now he could be dropped till the road between Ukhimath and Gopeshwar, from where there were greater chances of finding a vehicle back. After waiting for 10 minutes, it was getting dark and Kunal said that he would drop Karan till Ukhimath. Realising that this was the only practical way out, and he would have done the same, Karan sat on the bike and they stopped at the tea stall near the temple for tea.
‘Why dont you stay here, I have a room.’
‘I want to see the sunrise in Tungnath, so will have to go. also, I want to be alone tonight.’
‘Okay, but still if you do not find an accomodation there, come here. Alright?’
‘Alright’
With this, Kunal departed and Karan returned to his room.
‘I am coming back,’ Kunal called him on his mobile.
‘Thats great, see you at the tea shop.’
Karan realised that Kunal was a nice guy.
They talked about spirituality, and why they were in the Himalayas. Why Kunal spent 3 days at Deoriatal, and what life is. They planned to get up at 4 the next morning, to depart for Chopta, 30 kilometres from there.
10 Dec
Rishikesh and the journey uphill
Reaching Rishikesh late on a winter night is not a pleasant experience. The whole town is asleep, with shops shut. Buses do not leave uphill, and apart from a few travellers waiting for the morning bus, there is no-one. A vendor was selling tea, and after some persuasion, Karan could find something to eat. Another guy, about 25 years old, was waiting to catch a bus for Pauri. After trying in vain to stay at the bus stand for the next one hour, Karan decided to search for a room. The lodge nearby offered a room for Rs. 200, and he asked the other guy to come along; sleeping along was not a good idea. Getting into bed, he realised that he was with a complete stranger, whom he hardly knew. But then, sleep overpowered, and he woke up at 3:30 by the sound of his alarm. Sounds of buses ready to depart were heard, and without bothering to take a bath or wash his face, he packed his bags and went down, to find a bus departing for Rudraprayag, which his map said, was on the way to Ukhimath. He was expecting a window seat, and had researched already about which side he should sit for a better view, but God had a different plan. As the seats were full, he got a place besides the driver, and had the widest view of all that he wanted to see. The bus got ahead of the barricade which guarded the road uphill, and started its uphill journey.
The bus winded up on the marrow mountain road, moving dangerously close to the edges. Till Devprayag, Ganga was a perfect companion, never getting out of sight. There, Ganga ceases to exist, as both its tributaries are great in their own position- here join Alaknanda and Bhagirathi. After a tea break at Devprayag, the bus continued its sojourn and reached Srinagar, a cantonment town. Srinagar in Uttaranchal is also beautiful, though not as well-known as its namesake in Kashmir. The town also housed a Medical College, a rarity in the hills. Next stop- Rudraprayag- The confluence of Alaknanda with Mandakini. Here, another mode of transport was to be taken for Ukhimath. As soon as he got down from the bus, a jeep full of locals was waiting, ‘ Ukhimath, Ukhimath’ said its driver, and now Karan knew where he was going. Another journey began, this time at the rear seat of a jeep. The jeep moved up along the Mandakini. Rivers never leave you along the hill roads of Uttarakhand. Ukhimath was another small town in the hills. Arriving at the main market, he realised that now he was at his destination. What next?
10 Dec
Uttarakhand- The Journey Begins
‘I have to get out of Delhi.’
Though it was just a few days back that Karan had returned from a journey, he was still restless to move out. Not being employed and being young has its advantages. No strings attached. A search on Indiamike helped him to decide his choice of destination.
‘It has to be Uttarakhand.’
He had not been there before, apart from a trip to Haridwar to seek salvation for his father.
Not knowing about a place, not knowing what to look for, and then going for a solo journey, into wilderness. This was to be different. He realised that all his early plans to visit the Holy places- Badri, Kedar et al won’t materialise as the Gods had hibernated for the winter, and their gates would not open before summers. Since long, he was planning about an all India bike journey, that was to start on Dec 1, 2011. Today was 29th November. He had given up on plans for the Bike journey, but then, could not keep himself from travelling.
On Indiamike, people suggested some places, which included trekking. He has a back problem, and was not sure what to expect. The first place was to be Ukhimath, the winter abode of Kedarnath, and then a trek to Deoria tal. Then, he was expecting to visit Chopta, and return via Tehri- 4 days.
Getting tickets for the train journey was not difficult, and his friend helped him with warm clothes. Trekking shoes were bought, and his college bag was full till its capacity. Travel light.
The morning of Dec 1 started like any other day. A lot had to be done. He still had no camera, and was shy to ask his friend, but once he asked for it, his wish was granted. Now, with all uncertainty, but a definite excitement, he departed to New Delhi, to board Dehradoon Jan Shatabdi.
This was to be a 4 hour journey, to Haridwar, from Delhi. Haridwar was the place where the Ganges descent in the plains, a holy city, where he expected to catch a glimpse of Ganga aarti, something which he loved during his stay in Varanasi. He met two IT Guys in the train, and the journey became shorter as they conversed. On reaching Haridwar, it was already dark, and cold, though it was 7 pm. The city was waiting to sleep, and the rickshaw walla at the station thought him to be another tourist, who needed a hotel in Haridwar, expecting a commission for himself. Since that was not happening, his interest dwindles, and Karan boarded another rickshaw for ‘Har ki Pauri’- the famous ghat in Haridwar.
The ghat was empty, with stray dogs roaming around. The river was flowing, making the evening colder. He tried to meditate, but could not concentrate. Somehow, the river was not interested on him. The Ganges after sunset becomes like any other flowing stream, as in the dark, its expanse is not visualised, and there are no sun-rays to reflect from the water. In Varanasi, this river flowed from right to left, but Haridwar was on the right bank, and thus, the flow was opposite. This also was making the sub-conscious confused. Somehow, when nothing seemed to work, he got up to leave. He made a call to his ‘guru’, but had a general chat. Haridwar was to be left behind, as his destination was different. On reaching the bus stand, at 9, he could manage to board a bus for Rishikesh, ready to depart.
10 Dec
Anything and Everything 