Nepal

I went to Nepal in 1995. Being tight fisted, I avoided crowded and costly areas like Mount Everest Valley. I headed straight for Chitwan Forest, about 120 kilometers southwest of Katmandu, the capital city.

In Chitwan, the visitors wait near the gate for elephant-rides. They are asked to come in pairs, preferably couples, as they would be sitting back-to-back in kajawa (saddle). There would be lot of back rubbing at each movement which would multiply the ripple effects.

Since no one paid any heed to me, I looked for the Camp Commander. He turned to be a Gurkha, belonging to world famous soldiers in the British Army. “How many?” he asked me. “All alone,” said I and sealed my fate. In fact, I was the only non-white visitor. Being of the same skin, we became soon friendly. There were so many ladies, apparently lonely. I asked the Camp Commander, Tej Bahadur, to adjust me with any of those with bikini-tops, short shorts or tank tops. He knew by experience that no right-minded dame would accept a brownie even for a short ride. Also, he was strictly forbidden to be a matchmaker. Nevertheless, by bending the camp rules, he pointed out to three prospects: a brunette, a red head and a grey head. I opted for the worst-case and invited the grey-headed for a ride. Either she was myopic or colour-blind, she accepted graciously. She was German. Her name was Gudrun.

Chitwan has a wide range of wild-life the rare one-horned rhinoceros, sloth bear, leopard, wild boar, fresh water dolphin, crocodile and lordly tiger. There are different tours before sunrise and at sunset. In the evening, as the sky turned pink then purple, the bats began flying over the park. Those who have seen “Bridge on the River Kawai” would appreciate the spectacle.

I stayed for three days. Gudrun had been all along my companion on ride, walk and canoeing. We didn’t cut much ice. In fact, we were only together under the watchful eyes of Tej Bahadar and that too at the time of conducted tours. Gudrun was nice enough to set up a rendezvous at Namche in Katmandu a week later.

From Chitwan, I zoomed for Pokhra Valley. The trip was scenically rewarding. The bus passed through mountain grandeur on one side and terraced cultivation on the other side. Pokhra itself is a picturesque spot. Its beauty is enhanced by its lovely lakes. It offers a magnificent view of snow-clad peak. One can sit for hour in balcony of hotel and see great ridges, alpine flowers, isolated hamlets, temples and monasteries. One can see a streak of trekkers leaving for Jomosom, 6 days away. They go with flashy gears and clothing for spending a few blissful days among happiest people on earth. Small monasteries grace hilltops, prayer flags flutter atop conveying their messages with each gust of wind. Peace and serenity prevails in the area.

At the agreed hour, I reach Katmandu to meet Gudrun. She had asked me to be at Namche. It appeared that Namche was a house word. There was a Namche Market, a Namche Hotel, a Namche Temple and above all a Namche Village. I was duped by her. She had been very nice in accommodating me in back rubbing and I wanted to return her favour. There is a good old tradition: ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’. I had no bad intentions at all, trust me.