A Story of Performance Pressure

Two Years Ago on 14th March.

I had planned a roadtrip to unravel Tirthan Valley, yet another wonder located in Himachal Pradesh, famous for its trout (a kind of fish) and splendid beauty. Despite the news of the new virus causing countries to shut their borders, I decided to go ahead with the trip.

One day, I found myself in a hamlet called Sharchi, famous for its quaint cafes and a meadow that I was told will leave me spellbound.

Unfortunately, the weather played truant.

It was the middle of March, and the snow was still falling.

I went to the centre of the village while my cafe guy was making me a bowl of Maggi noodles (what else!?) and struck a conversation with a lady.

She was quite surprised that I was alone, that too in such weather.

I told her that I was planning to leave because I was feeling cold. And, there wasn’t much else to do (you’ll see the weather in the video and get what I am saying).

When she knew I was going down to Tirthan Valley, she grabbed the opportunity to tell me that her daughter-in-law had wanted to go ‘down’ too, but the bus would only come the following morning. “Or she would have to go walking,” she said. “All the way?” I asked, shocked, as I recalled the topography I’d seen driving up.

I offered to take her since I was alone in the car. There was enough space and I reckoned it would be nice to have someone to chat with.

She got excited and we decided that I would go have my lunch while her DIL would get ready.

A little later, I was introduced to the DIL — a heavily pregnant young girl.

Though I opened the front door, she wanted to sit behind. I cleared the backseat and she slid in, smiling. After I sat behind the wheel, I asked her when she was due and she said, “In a few weeks.”

“I have to go and pick up my Yoga training certificate,” she offered by way of explanation. “Oh nice, “ I said. “When did you do the course?” “Last year, but tomorrow is the last date to collect it.”

“Wow,” I thought to myself. This super pregnant girl was ready to go down on foot, changing two buses, staying with relatives, just to pick a certificate!

I had to drive 12 kms down to the nearest village, Gushaini, from where she would get a bus to Banjar, her destination.

I suffered from “performance pressure” because the road was really bumpy, thanks to landslides, road construction work etc.

It was snowing lightly at first and then it started to drizzle, making it even tougher to stick to the narrow road.

I was sweating inside my clothes even though the weather was sub-zero and the car’s heater wasn’t switched on.

My leg started cramping as I kept razor sharp focus on the road, the potholes and bumps, and on her, through the rear-view.

Mind calculated how quickly I’d have to zip ‘down’ if labour got induced due to the bumps.

Like the ‘sattar minit’ of Chak De India, those ‘chaalis minit’ were the most harrowing and stressful minutes of the whole Himachal roadtrip. (Also the most memorable :)

Video: I begin to explore the village and come across the lady whose DIL becomes my passenger