It was a rainy night. After all,
it was the monsoon season. I had had a light dinner in preparation for a long
bus journey. From Cochin to Mysore. I got into the bus and in a short while,
the bus started and, unusually enough, I slept off.
After a comfortable sleep, I woke up and peered at the watch. 6 am.
The bus was not moving. I parted the curtains and looked outside and found that
the bus was in the bus stand of some town. As the cobwebs of sleep cleared from
my brain slowly, I sat up with a jerk! I realised that that the bus was still
in Kerala whereas it should have been in Karnataka, in some town close to
Mysore. Gundlupet or Nanjangud perhaps. But, why????
My fellow passengers were all
fast asleep. I got off and found the driver in a tea shop. He told me that
there was a land slide on the Wayanad Ghats road. It was being cleared and that
we would start soon. My hopes of reaching home to a hot cup of coffee, a bath
and breakfast receded by at least by six hours. So I changed my target to a hot
bath and lunch at home.
The bus started, as promised,
after I had a cup of tea. Having slept through the night, I was wide awake and
could enjoy the scenes outside of the wet and dripping Wayanad. The bus started
making its way up the curved road. Outside, it was the verdant forests
stretching as for as the eye could see through the steady drizzle. Then a cool
grey sky stretching up from the horizon. Large and small wisps of pure white
clouds moving up the green slopes of the ghats is an unforgettable scene.
When the bus moved ahead a
kilometer or so, it was met by a landslide blocking its path. Luckily enough,
we had just passed a small stretch of road that was a little wider than the
rest of it. Wide enough to allow a skilled driver to maneuver the bus and turn
it around and head back down the ghat. There were some discussions if it was
the right thing to do. The rains which had appeared to be getting lighter had
in fact become heavier. The stretch on which the bus had stopped, was right at
the top of a sheer drop to the right - a prime candidate for a landslide - bus
and all. To the left was another sheer slope that could slide in on the bus
itself. The incessant rain made that a real possibility. So it was decided that
it was better to head back.
Unfortunately, by this time, there were half a dozen vehicles behind
our bus. The possibility of turning around had almost disappeared. Within a few
minutes, there was no need to fret about
it because there was another small landslide behind the last vehicle that
blocked that option.
So, we all sat, hour after hour,
listening to the rain make a monotonous noise beating on the roof of the bus.
The green covered hills with a grey sky and wisps of while clouds climbing up
the ghats through the tops of the trees that looked so enticing and beautiful
just a few hours ago completely lost its charm. I tried to read a book even in
the dark interior of the bus trying to ignore the stomach clamouring to be fed
and thinking too much of the real danger we were in.
There was a lady in a seat a few
rows away who had two small children and she was trying to manage them with
some snacks and milk she had carried. People talked of their previous
experiences from their travels, none of the pleasant. Much of the talk was in
Malayalam which I barely understood, which was a good for me, I imagine.
Everyone was wondering why no one had come to clear the landslide.
The minutes and hours moved
agonisingly slowly. Some people, with their dhotis folded up till the knees and
holding umbrellas for protection, walked down the road. They informed us that
there was a landslide up the road nearly at the top of the ghat and there were
PWD men clearing it and they would come down to clear "our"
landslide. They also said that they would be done in an hour or so. Apparently
that was a bad, large one.
Somehow this news seemed to
galvanise some people into action. They said that if we could somehow clear our
land slide, we could go ahead and the other bigger landslide would be cleared
by then. That sounded like a good idea but how does one clear a landslide
without equipment. Someone went and enquired with the driver of a truck behind
us if he had something that would help in the task. Well, he had! A few crowbars! I also got off the bus in the pouring
rain and joined hands with those who had started trying to clear the debris on
the road. Fairly big boulders, small trees and mud and grass and driftwood had
to be cleared. We were all thoroughly soaked but the camaraderie in the air was
something exciting. A few lengths of rope and a few pick axes appeared as if
from nowhere. Soon there were a bamboo baskets and steel bowls used in
construction work and so on joined forces. I had to take my glasses off as it
was getting wet and water vapour from my breath was collecting on it and
hindering me. My only pair of leather shoes was taking a beating.
Working in steady rain on a
stomach that had only seen a cup of tea some eight hours earlier did not seem
to matter. By about four in the evening,
we had managed to clear the path. With a collective cry of jubilation we all
hurried back to our vehicles and the convoy started up the road. I had to go
through all sorts of contortions to change my clothes on the moving bus.
Thanks to this experience, I can add "road worker" to my résumé, perhaps?
I remember that when I finally reached home at seven in
the evening instead seven in the morning everyone at home was relieved. No one
had an idea what had happened to their son/brother until I reached home. I
remember that there had been some disaster the previous day and the newspapers
had screaming headlines but, I can't remember what it was!