It was around 3 in the afternoon when we reached Kangla Jal and halted. A few of us got off and noticed that there was a long line of trucks in front of us. We were by now quite used to this sort of a thing and so started walking off in various directions to find things to pass our time.
(Above: The deadly beauty of Kangla Jal)
There was, of course, the river accompanying us all along. The water looked fresh and clean, and some of us wet our parched throats. I managed to fill up a couple of bottles of water; there was no telling where I'd find water next. Having done that, I sat down by river side, simply hurling stones into the river, waiting for the jam to clear up. It turned from ten minutes to an hour, and I decided to inquire about the situation. The driver told me that about half a kilometer ahead, there was a river crossing about a 100 metres long. The road was practically inexistent. A few cars had tried to power through and got stuck mid-river. The jam was building up on the other side as well and there was nothing even the army could do. And then, it started to rain.
The rain did two things. One was that it brought in mud into the stream running right next to us, so the water was undrinkable. Not just that, it also raised the level of the water, so it was flowing right next to our bus, and further trapped the vehicles stuck at the river crossing. The flow was so swift, that everyone feared the vehicles would get washed away.
The hour turned into two. There was now, floating in the air, talk of having to spend the night in the bus. I had very serious apprehensions about this idea. We were at about 15000 feet and the air was already devoid of oxygen. Twenty people sleeping in a closed bus could very easily poison the air and end up killing each other. If we kept the windows open, it'd get frightfully cold. The driver suggested that we should cross Kangla Jal on foot and find some way to go to Pang 10 kilometers away, and spend the night there. Four guys, including Gussu and me, went out to scout this option. As we started walking towards the block point, it started to hail; and hailed like a hundred hail Mary's! The wind made the hail hit us square in our faces and anyone who has ever walked against a hailstorm knows how much that hurts! When we reached ground zero, the whole extent of the disaster became clear to us. The water was atleast shin deep and was gushing with mad fury. At this point, two vehicles were stuck in the water and efforts were being made to haul out another jeep out of the water. The jeep was hauled out. However, a tanker was still stuck along with a second jeep whose tyres had blown out, leaving it precariously poised on the brink of getting washed away(Photo on Right). This didn't look good. All of us decided that there was no
way this stretch could be crossed on foot. I faced additional trouble in this display of bravery and machismo. I wet my shoes and socks and was freezing inside my own shell by the time I got back to the bus to deliver the bad news. A German lady on the bus had already fallen violently ill by that time. All of us just kept our fingers crossed, hoping against all hope that we'd go through. There were ideas of turning back, but there was no way to do that. We decided to bring in the reinforcements to spend the night. Every little piece of warm clothing was pulled out of our luggages and we prepared for a very hard night ahead.
(Preparing for the night)
In the midst of all this Manu and I made a few recon visits to the site to see if there was any progress and there was none. The most dismaying aspect was the fact that a lot small vehicles from the cities, with inexperienced drivers were trying to power through in a hurry, not allowing the heavier, more stable tankers to go through. These drivers got stuck in the water and then needed to be evacuated or hauled out, and ended up blocking the stretch further. A small group from our bus (after a long debate) decided to take the risk of walking across the water, and abandoned the effort after realising that it was an impossible task.
As darkness began to fall, and the water level began to rise, all efforts were abandoned and everyone dug in for the night, hoping that the level will recede by morning. The truck drivers were best prepared for the ordeal and we had at one point thought of seeking help. At this point, none of us had eaten anything for the last 18 hours. But the human spirit refuses to die. Knowing fully well that we were stranded, we began to break the ice in the bus and made the best of what we could. This led to us meeting, Milene and Natan, French and Israeli respectively, and enjoying a few great games of cards with them. Manu was a little alarmed by Milene, because he thought she had what he called "Crazy Eyes" (Manu has some fabulous theories I dare say).
Amongst all this, Gussu and I made the mistake of having a brief conversation with our driver who told us about the time it took him 11 days to reach Leh, the time 6 people died when they got trapped in the bus, and other such frightening times. Having got those beautiful words of encouragement, I decided to sleep for now, because I hadn't slept since 3 in the morning, I hadn't eaten since last night, and I didn't plan on sleeping at night.
A brief note on Dhar here; Dhar had been sleeping ever so soundly through practically the whole ordeal. He did wake up a few times to inquire about the situation and give his valuable opinion, and the card game with Milene and Natan (For where there are cards, there is Dhar), but thats about it. Such is the indomitable spirit of Abhinav Dhar (He snores too).
Manu and I found ourselves the long, backseat of the bus and somehow tried to fit there in various permutations and combinations (both of us are over 6 feet tall, so needless to say it was grossly uncomfortable). There was a fair amount of commotion in the bus as people got settled into position. Dhar the Indomitable found himself four seats and sprawled on them, soon to start snoring, much to the animated dismay of a British girl on board!
Altitude came back to haunt us. Manu and I, as I'm sure many others, had a severe headache and were having trouble breathing. We had opened our windows slightly so that we wouldn't asphyxiate. Asphyxiation (ass-fixation as Dhar and Manu put it), for obvious reasons, had been the buzz word for a few hours. Around 8pm, the lights went out in the bus and that was basically calling it a day.
I will confess this much, I was very scared that if I slept, I wouldn't wake up. My stomach was empty, my mouth was parched beyond belief and there was no water to be had till morning atleast, and by far the worst bit for all of us was the fact that there was no way to communicate our situation to our families who would've been worried sick in Delhi. As I desperately tried to sleep, Manu and I constantly jostling for space and rearranging so that it wouldn't be so uncomfortable, my head was filled with all sorts of thoughts. What if we couldn't get out of here even the next morning? What if some of us choked? If I ever got out of this...I would...whats the damn point? My head was filled with these thoughts and my pulse was racing, preventing me from sleeping for more than a minute at a time. The air felt heavy, every breath drew in less oxygen and somehow felt incomplete. You never realise the worth of the air you breathe till you don't have any. Manu had pried up his head and positioned it right next to the small gap we'd left open on the window. Then, it began to rain again. That really took the wind out of my sails for a while. The windows had to be completely closed for a while, which compounded my worry. When the rain stopped, we reopened the windows ever so slightly, and realised that it had become really cold. We were wearing every piece of warm clothing we had, and yet the feet were cold. Dhar would tell us next morning that he was wearing three pairs of socks and still feeling cold (albeit he was snoring pretty much all through the night). Realising that I had nothing else to do, I decided it to put on some music on my mp3 and calm my nerves down. I was feeling really cold and the absence of food or water made it worse. At one point I had started shivering.
The night was passed thus and the first signs of light became visible from my window. I was still up, though woozy, and was waiting for this one sign. Morning had come, and all of us had made through what was the worst night of my life. Manu also woke up and went down to ground zero to check how the place was faring. He came back delivered the good news to everyone. Sure enough, the water level had receded, the movement was about to begin and we would be out of here before long.
Inch by inch, we moved towards Kangla Jal. There were a group of drivers standing in the frigid water to bail out any vehicle that might get stuck. At this point, I have to mention again, the admirable fortitude and selflessness of the people I met along the way. Soon enough, it was our turn. The bus powered up, and everyone sat up with their fingers crossed. A prayer would have emanated from every lip on that bus as we crashed and swayed on the rocky bed, while crossing the river. One last groan from the engine, and we had powered through! We had made it to the other side! Loud applause and cheering erupted from inside the bus. The view on the other side was quite literally, to die for.
(A view to die for)
And now, atleast there would soon be food and water. And food and water there was. At Pang, on the other side of death, we had our first meal in 36 hours. And this once, we loaded ourselves for any similar event that might happen. We'll die some other day.
(First meal in 36 hours at Pang)
(To be continued)
Pang was a welcome relief for all of us. It's really nothing but a village of seven tents that are in business during summer and shut shop during winter. For us, it was nothing less than a life saver. I have never been so happy to see food in my life (Even though my friends will vouch for the fact that I'm a foodie). Nonetheless, the effects of the last night hadn't gone away completely. People usually acclimatize in comfortable hotel rooms; we had done so at the back of a bus. The area is again characterised by the appalling lack of toilets. I went up to a lady and asked her where I could use one, and she conveniently asked me to go use the river! Anyway, I went up a certain distance on the hillslope, to bru
sh my teeth, and I stood with my brush in my mouth looking around for about 30 seconds before my lungs started to cry for air and I came back down panting like I had run ten miles. When I returned, Dhar was sharing his insights on the upsides to the events that had unfolded the day before. Dhar was particularly happy that the whole day went off without us spending a single penny! Of course someone forgot to tell El Snore-o that we'd nearly lost our lives!
ond highest temple in the world and until recently had the second highest toilets in the world. Now they just let you go under the open sky in the freezing cold with a great view to please the senses.(Above: The view from Taglang La)
rivers are green which gives way to bare mountainsides till you reach snow. At Upshi, we got our first glimpse of the Indus, which quite frankly, is an event that occurs in few Indian lives. Just beyond Upshi, we got one other thing that we had been denied for the last two days-signal. And then, came pouring in, the phone calls from Delhi. One parent after another, all worried to death as predicted, and each had to be told a provisional and modified version of the experience of the last two days, to prevent further worry.
ond highest temple in the world and until recently had the second highest toilets in the world. Now they just let you go under the open sky in the freezing cold with a great view to please the senses.(Above: The view from Taglang La)
rivers are green which gives way to bare mountainsides till you reach snow. At Upshi, we got our first glimpse of the Indus, which quite frankly, is an event that occurs in few Indian lives. Just beyond Upshi, we got one other thing that we had been denied for the last two days-signal. And then, came pouring in, the phone calls from Delhi. One parent after another, all worried to death as predicted, and each had to be told a provisional and modified version of the experience of the last two days, to prevent further worry.
