Keeping an acrophile in the plains for too long is nothing short of torture. Saimi Sattar hits the winding road while she works and frames how you can ace both
This is the kind of traffic that I don’t mind being stuck in,” I thought as some trouts gracefully swam past. I was far away, precisely a little over 270 km away from the dust, grime and crowds of Delhi and, in Ramnagar. Sitting on a boulder, my feet or rather my legs up to my knees dangling into the river, I debated on the life-altering decisions of what to eat for lunch. Looking back at the morning, a sense of satisfaction spread over and expressed itself in a smile. I had a fruitful start to the day, where after an early breakfast, I sat down to complete some pending office work. I had a clear agenda in my mind which ensured that none of the distractions came in the way of accomplishing my task. I had to head to the river which was flowing past the resort where I was staying. A glance over the laptop, rather than making me day dream, renewed my zeal to conclude work as the remainder of the party frolicking in the clear waters could be seen and heard clearly.
Going back in time, this was the fifth and second last day of my workation. Keeping a mountain lover (one who considers herself an honourary pahadi ), who often has the urge to just get up and go to the hills, confined at home had been close to self-inflicted fourth-degree torture during the days and months that followed the outbreak of the pandemic. Needless to say, I was itching to step out of the capital to breathe in the crisp and clear mountain air. So when my cousin suggested that we could go on a holiday, and do so safely, I grabbed the opportunity. Of course, there was the niggling issue of files to be edited and cleared ... but then, these could be accomplished from anywhere as long as there was internet. I smiled smugly.
That’s how I found myself on a tree-lined road to Nainital, soothing music wafting out of the car stereo, which added to the general feeling of finally being carefree. We had decided to drive down as opposed to using public transport, like a train till the railhead of Kathgodam, as this was naturally safer in pandemic times. It was due to its proximity that Nainital was zeroed in on as the destination of choice despite all of us having frequented it n-number of times since childhood.
However, at the same time, we wanted to choose a resort which was not in an area with too many hotels (and people) and one which adhered to safety norms in totality. It naturally meant taking a road that was less-trod but then, as Frost said, it did make all the difference.
We reached Nainital post-lunch and were happy to note that the staff and servers were adhering to all safety norms possible at evening tea.
Heading out soon thereafter, we found ourselves close to the Naini Lake, the centrepiece of the hill station. For those who haven’t been here, much of everything in this hill station revolves around this water body. Visitors go boating in it, stand around the area to click selfies as the mountains seem to be rising from the middle of the lake, shop at Mall Road or the Tibetan market (both of which skirt the lake), eat roasted peanuts, candyfloss and the like while taking in the sight of water reflecting the numerous lights giving it the appearance of a star-studded sky.
There was a sizeable presence of police personnel to ensure that people did not crowd around any one place and the visitors kept their masks on while in a public area. While strolling around the walkway, the place appeared to be so familiar — as I had been visiting it since I was a little shy of three years — yet so overwhelmingly different with everyone donning masks.
Despite the changed times, we did manage to pick up some interesting knick-knacks primarily from the Tibetan Market, popularly referred to as “flats”. A marked change was the way shopkeepers welcomed the shoppers with the proverbial open arms. The lockdown and the subsequent reduction in the number of travellers, which had practically gone down to a trickle, meant that their business had hit rock bottom.
During the two days that we were in Nainital my days took the shape of working in the mornings post breakfast till lunch and heading out in late afternoon/early evening.
On the third day, we headed to Ramnagar which is dotted with sundry resorts in all price brackets. Since all six of us have been certified as hydrophiles by friends and acquaintances, the choice of heading out to Garjiya — the place from where one can access the Kosi river — was not rocket science. However, one side of the river coastline was dotted with plastics wrappers ranging from chips, gutka and more. There is something to be said about our indifference to ensuring that we leave our natural habitat in the pristine state that we find it in. Disgusted with the state of affairs, we walked across the suspension bridge to proceed to the other side which is a little less-frequented by humans and were rewarded. Cleaner waters and ample place to sit on the rocks without worrying about stepping onto something unsavoury were the premiums that we cherished. While we dangled our feet in the river — notwithstanding the cold — a small black and orange-coloured crab crawled out and darted across the boulders. It was too swift for us to capture it in our phones ... or maybe we were a little too excited and fearful that the crab would dig its infamous claws into our feet. Sooner than we could have wished, the nip in the air started turning a little more intense as, evening approached and we decided to call it a day.
But we hadn’t had enough of the river and so the next day we decided to shift into a property which has the unique USP of being located just above it. All that it takes is a short descent on an iron ladder to reach the pebbled beach and a less than two-minute walk to reach a place where you can dip your toes in the water. And that is how I found myself on the penultimate morning sitting amidst fish shoals.
However, we’d already had some excitement that day. Earlier, in the morning, when we checked into the place — which consists of several wooden structures spread over a sprawling area — we had chosen the riverfront rooms. As had become my routine, I decided to put my laptop to good use and sat outside in the small verandah in front of our room on the first floor of the ground+1 place. I hadn’t worked for very long when a cry of “monkey” emanated from the youngsters sitting inside the room. The simian had been spotted thanks to the huge glass windows in the room which had been incorporated in the design for a better view of the river flowing below. I darted inside and shut the door but the monkey was friendly and decided to engage in a conversation from the other side of the glass.
As night approached, we could hear the strains of live music wafting through the air and headed out. A singer belted out a mix of the latest and golden oldies from Bollywood while we sat in enclosures which had adequate provisions for a bonfire while ensuring social distancing. In the one next to us, an extended family of 22 with people from all age groups celebrated the anniversary of its grandparents. The bonhomie and the fun emanating from the enclosure was infectious.
We had one more memorable sighting before we retired for the night. As we climbed the spiral staircase we spotted a herd consisting of four neelgais and a young calf, their eyes glinting in the moonlight, crossing the river. Certainly, this was turning out to be a more eventful trip than we had bargained for.
The next morning, as we piled our luggage into the vehicle, I whispered softly, “This is the way I want to work,” hoping that the breeze would carry my wish to heaven and make it come true.
TIPS FOR A WORKATION