EPISODE 5

                                         

                                             GYPSY WANDERINGS

                                                
                                           SHIFTING TO CLEMENT TOWN

                           

 

As preparations to move to Dehra Dun started, the house became a hive of activity with orderlies helping my mother pack some belongings, that were to go with us. The rest packed in black trunks or strong wooden crates, with Daddy’s name stenciled in white, in the army style, were to be sent later, booked by train. We understood nothing but enjoyed the presence of additional manpower in the house, doing the sorting and sifting, packing and wrapping, handling and hammering, and finally keeping the packed boxes in different lots. There was more freedom  for Mummy hardly had time to keep a check on us. The only ones disturbed by the army of workers spread all over the premises, were the monkeys, who got lesser opportunities to raid the kitchen or tease us.  

 For many days Mummy and Daddy discussed  the mode of transport, for the cartage of luggage and personnel to a remote place in an unknown countryside, where conveyance was almost non–existent and man power scant. Before long the day of departure arrived.

Clement Town is about 7- 8 miles short of Dehra–Dun, going from Saharanpur onwards. So, Mummy worked it out this way, that if she travelled by train with so much luggage, one cook, two dogs, three orderlies and four children, along with five heads of cattle, counting the latest baby in the family-a calf born a week earlier to Gori, the buffalo, she would have found it impossible to arrange conveyance to travel backwards to Clement Town, with so much in tow, at the unearthly hour of 3am, when the train arrived at Dehra- Dun station.

 So, three civilian trucks were hired. Must have appeared odd to others, who wondered why an army officer, being the commanding officer of a transport company, hired civilian trucks, when he had around three hundred army trucks under his command. But that is the type of man my father was.

Mangala the cow,  Gori the buffalo, their calves, along with two orderlies, rode in one truck. It took a strong broad, sloping wooden platform and many men to get the cattle into the truck where their bodies and legs were tied in such a way, that they would not slip or roll with the movement of the truck. Two orderlies squeezed into the remaining space somehow.The second truck had the essential household belongings, along with the two dogs - Rana and Whiskey, with a third orderly to look after them and keep them company. The third truck was for the family and the cook, along with some food  for the journey in a large hot case and two string cots on which we were huddled under quilts. Safely ensconced in a large basket and covered with another larger one, was a hen sitting on the eggs she was hatching since a week!

I vaguely recall travelling on a cold moonlit night in a truck. Daddy stayed behind as he was still posted at Meerut; besides Mummy did not feel the need to have him around to help her or perhaps to hamper her ! 

 Our truck, uncovered on top, was kept in the middle, because Mummy wanted to be able to keep an eye on both the others. That probably was also the reason to risk taking her small children in an open truck. I wonder if it is possible today, for an army officer’s wife in her early thirties, to be travelling alone in the middle of a cold wintry night, with four little children and most of her worldly possessions in this manner, a long distance, to an unknown destination.

The journey from Saharanpur onwards through hilly terrain, with tinkling streams flowing through deep gorges on the left, and steep hills, heavy with dense dark forests on the right side, was quite an adventure for us. Mummy sat on a cane chair with Kaka snug in her lap, fast asleep under a thick quilt.  My elder sister, Didi and elder brother Bhaji and I, snuggled under the other quilt, on one of the cots.

 Looking up, I was fascinated to see the dark blue sky, spangled with millions of stars, twinkling clear and bright, even as the moon shone brighter. I was thrilled to discover the Great Bear and some others, which my grandfather used to point out to us, during our after dinner walks. But soon I was bored, watching the same sky, stretching everywhere infinitely, while my neck got stiff trying to look upwards.  Soon I wriggled out, for I realized I was missing the changing panorama all round. For me it was high voltage drama! Bundled in a blanket, I sat on a low stool munching on homemade snacks, with my eyes taking in the passing landscape. I held on tightly to the sides of the truck as it jostled me around. When it negotiated the sharp hairpin bends, I would bend too, pretending to be driving the truck. Initially, I found it fun and kept singing rock-a-bye-baby in a loop, but soon tired of that also, for I could feel my bones rattling.

When an oncoming vehicle came from the opposite side the two vehicles would slow down to manoeuvre passage on a road, barely broad enough for two trucks. Every time this happened I clutched the sides of the truck harder still, my knuckles white, scared of the two vehicles colliding. Adding to my fright, was a clucking sound, every time the truck slowed. After some time I realized it was the hatching hen-probably sensing the danger to her yet to be born off springs.

The moonlight shone on the silvery streams below, making spectacular pictures but as it sneaked through the branches of the overhanging trees on the steep mountainside to the right,it created numerous magical illusions. Occasionally a fox or rabbit crossing the road would get blinded by the headlights of the trucks and stand paralyzed.  When the truck drivers slowed down to let them pass, I peered through the small window cut between the driver’s seat and the body of the truck. I could see their eyes, two fiery red embers in the dark, which I found terribly scary. But later, I would stand in front of the mirror, shining a torch on my face, to see if my eyes also blazed similarly! Needless to say, I was sorely disappointed, and in the bargain got a proper scolding from Mummy about ruining my eyes! I did not speak to Didi, for two days, for having tattled.

The orderlies were tempted to kill the rabbits but Mummy did not want to stop anywhere, for anything, wanting to reach Clement Town safely with her brood, as fast as possible.

Bhaji, my elder brother, who was around ten at that time, was a great fibber and could spin many a yarn out of nothingness. The journey was a great opportunity for him to showcase his prowess, as he had the undivided attention of his audience, which haplessly had no other choice, but to listen to him.  One moment he pointed out an imaginary lion along with its cubs and another time, a couple of large black bears out of the shadowy, dark thick trees up on the hillside or the road on the other side. He sure managed to scare me, for my own imagination was no less fertile. Didi of course scoffed at him while the cook, like me, was another gullible victim.

Kaka was fast asleep and Mummy must have been very tired too; with him clinging to her, she too snuggled under a quilt, on the other cot. The cook clad in a thick army coat,  under an equally thick army blanket, lay huddled on a thick mattress, snoring away. Being the only one awake, I was not only scared but chilled as well, in spite of my coat and muffler under the blanket, so I also crept back under the quilt with Mummy.

I don't know how long I slept, but I must have slept soundly, as I do not remember anything further about the journey.

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