Horror at Honey Moon

Our long-planned adventure trip was at last set to reality, a week after marriage. The travel plan filled almost most of our pre-wedding talks and it was a delight to see it unfold day after day, moment after moment until that dreadful night came to pass. We indeed chose the trip to be more adventurous than romantic, but certainly we fell short of the thrill of the feat on this night that I am going to narrate you now.

It was the fourth day of our 10-day trip to India’s Deva Bhoomi, Himachal Pradesh. Needless to say, it was a true land of Gods! Not just for the scenic beauty of the place but also for the calmness that can be sensed even at the off-lying hamlets of this state. And this calmness was exactly the reason for our horror at honey moon.

pagesfromserendipity.wordpress.comIt was a couple of days long trip from Shimla to Sangla, stopping in between at Narkanda and Sarahan. I remember how exciting it was when we reached the most awaited tent house resort in the dusk hours of the day. Snow had just started to set in at the distant mountain peaks. River Baspa was constantly in motion, silently rendering its background melody. Our caretaker served us one after the other at the traditional open dining place. Munching and sightseeing in that gripping chillness was an unbeatable hour of life!

pagesfromserendipity dot wordpress dot comHowever, in no time, all of it suddenly turned spooky! As the night got colder outside, we settled inside our tent which was far similar to the fantasy doll house of my childhood. The moment we realized that the pretty tent did not have a sturdy door on either side, an untold fear started to clutch us. There was just a zipper sheet that can be unzipped even by dogs and cats. Realistic realizations dawned on us, one after the other. That we were almost 30 km away from the main city; that the place we’ve come to now seems isolated from human interventions except for the caretaker; that ours was the only occupied tent out of the 30 tents of the resort; that means there were no other visitors staying nearby us!

Pages from SerendipityThere was stillness and eerie silence all around except for Baspa’s humming which was no more a melody now; it pierced us as a siren of danger. And those snow-clad mountains seemed as ghastly as our fears. What if somebody would cut us into pieces and throw in the river?! No matter how much louder we shout or cry, no one is going to hear us. What the hell of a risk we’ve fallen into?!

The master mind H then decided to bring a knife from the kitchen. Well, he didn’t know even Rajinikanth did not use knives to save his chicks from the bad guys?! :roll: And what he overheard at the kitchen almost froze him head to toe. When the frozen crow re-entered, he added another piece of shock attack – that the owner of the resort has come down for a night’s stay at the tent next to us along with his male friends for an alcohol party :shock:

Pages from Serendipity 1We remained awake the whole night, jerking for every silly sound of the night culprits of the jungle. If a strong wind would shake the zipper door a little, I would pray all Ram, Krishna, Durga to save us. Throughout, H was alert with the kitchen equipment, ready for an attack anytime. We understood nothing except the Sun can help us from this gripping fear of the unknown.

www.pagesfromserendipity.wordpress.comThe day dawned and our caretaker greeted us from amidst those beautiful, refreshing flowers. Nature resumed its course. Baspa was rhythmic and the peaks became majestic once again. Like the vampire, our fears melted away with the morning sun. After a day trip to Chitkul, we re-worked our plan and packed our bags out of this haunted spot.

What we expected as a dreamy night-out turned out terrifying, which till today is the reason for many of our ROFL sessions :lol: But it was also a warning to us to stay away from such uncalculated risks on the name of adventure and enjoyment.

This post is written for the prompt ‘Rise above Fear’, sponsored by Mountain Dew and hosted by Indi Happy Hours of Indiblogger.

Indeed, these Plaques Speak….

As a child, I wondered why my school gave away award plaques as prizes all the time. These plaques simply  go to a show rack and are forgotten forever. I thought it could have been interesting had it been a game or a puzzle book instead.

Today, as I was clearing my old stuff off from my cupboards, a few of my  plaques and awards of my school days crossed my eyes. The very first one I had won in school was for a competition among high school students. As a part of the competition, we had to represent an aspect that needed our country’s immediate attention in the form of a drawing. Around 500 students participated in it. And I remember it took such a long time for the results to be declared that it had even gone off our minds. Continue reading