Footloose In Foothills

How I Discovered Kotdwar

Why must your travel plans be always immaculately laid out — pre-decided destinations, pre-paid accommodation and a pre-decided stretch? Why can it not be a way of exploring new corners by traveling at random alone, for once atleast? I know, even I can ill-afford it today, tied as I am to domestic chores and the money-spinning wheel. But once in a long while…

Well, the foremost thing is not to make up your mind about the destination. Nor prepare oneself all too well (a pair of denims and limited money should do). Have no fixed idea of the duration either. Just arrange your backpack, slip into a pair of jeans & sandals, and land up at your local Inter State Bus Terminus early evening. The place would resemble a fish market, I am sure, with an array of destinations being shouted loudly. Browse through the destinations painted on the State transport buses. Choose any place whose name you fancy the most. This could be Baagpat, Bageshwar, Ajmer, Sonoli, Eta, Hissar, Hastinapur, Kalka… anything. Just let your instincts drive you on, in your own re-discovery of India.

That was how I once discovered Kotdwar, a sleepy township in the Himalayan foothills, some 12 years back. I just liked the name, and after a few inquiries boarded the bus, and landed at Kotdwar at 3 in the morning. I got down with a small borrowed backpack, dusted myself, and surveyed the scene. Even in early June, there was a nip in the air and I needed some sleep. After three cups of tea at various places, I managed to persuade a restaurant-owner near the bus station to give me a charpoy and a blanket for Rs 10. The back-pack as my pillow, I crashed.

I woke up to the hustle-bustle around 7 am. Creaky kiosks selling audiocassettes were playing incomprehensible pahari numbers with off-key orchestra. All around us, bus/matador/jeep conductors were helping travelers load and unload. Occasionally, altercation would ensue over the positioning of their vehicles. Another cup of tea, and I dug out that Kotdwar was an alternate gateway to Hindu pilgrimages in the Himalayas.

I expected to roam around the township full day, but it was so small that it barely took me five hours of walking and rickshaw-rides to do the job. While the heart of the township was too chaotic, noisy and boisterous, with mandis of various wares, the peripheries offered faint hill-lines, tubewells, and large tracts of greenry.

I ate whatever looked good to me: aaloo tikkis from a cycle-borne vendor, soda lemon from a dilapidated shack, and milk cake at Tourist Hotel… In the evening, I re-appeared before my host, Shamsher Singh Bisht. This Garhwali Rajput insisted that I visit Siddbali temple nearby and also Durga devi mandir in Dogadda. Another place of interest was Kanvashram about 10 km from Kotdwar, and a waterfall nearby, Sahashrdhara (it later turned out to be just a line of trickle from mossy mountains). I decided to trek down to Kanvashram the following day, got the same charpoy again, and crashed without a wink.

I had barely crossed the township next day when things began to brighten up. Following a stream of icy blue river, I reached Kanvashram around lunchtime. The route was dotted with hutments, irrigation pumps, mini-canals and great landscapes, also an ancient banyan tree. Golden wheat crop was ready for the reap. A ‘gurukul’ denizen in the area got friendly with me and narrated the story of Kanva sage (Vishwamitra is the more popular name) who had made this place his ashram for meditation, and was wooed by Maneka the seductress, sent by Hindu heaven lord Indra. Daytime was slightly warm but evenings required a thin blanket. The dorm at a tourist bungalow charged a princely sum and I was too happy to roam about whole day in the hills.

I overstayed at Kanvashram, soaking my days near a small water barrage, and counting the stars at night. My calculations told me that I had spent a total of Rs 570 for four days of traveling, the largest of which was spent only on the state transport fare. It was a big sum for a fresh graduate, but I didn’t mind. I had got more than I had bargained for…

Looking back today, I have traveled farther and wider, twice on a Mitsubishi canter. There have been quite a few trips that I would rather not remember but that is all part of the game. Now I have a set of rules too. Sample a few: Listen to everybody, pay heed to a few and trust no one blindly. Make your precarious financial position known in the first place. Advertise your indulgence barriers and limited buying capacity. Look for a dharmshala (charity lodge), or a dormitory. Take interest in people around you, while away at chowks, mandis, fields, mosques, temples and marketplaces. If you have a taste for the rustic and the unknown, India will not disappoint you.