Chail

‘The hills are alive with the sound of music
 With songs they have sung for a thousand years’

August 2012, Shimla Hills

As we ambled down the meandering road to the village marketplace, last night’s thunder, lightning and torrential rains had given way to a beautiful morning. The rain had washed clean the brilliant foliage and undergrowth, the plants and trees looked fresh and smiling, a transformation only nature’s forces can bring about. It almost seemed as each bush and plant were vying with each other for attention, and none wouldn’t like to show itself lesser to the other.

We were spending a few days with our friends in Chail, a lesser frequented hill station at 7000 feet, but nonetheless well known because of the Chail Palace, and the highest cricket ground in the country, both once owned by the erstwhile Maharaja of Patalia. Our friends Bijit and Rashmi, have built themselves an almost picture postcard perfect cottage in a hamlet a few kilometres ahead of Chail, the sort we all dream off, but never get to possess. Perched on a hilltop with a panoramic 360 degree view on a clear day, one could see range after range, with mist like clouds rising one after another from the valley, wafting past you, caressing your skin gently, sun peeping through, scattering the clouds to assert its presence, and bathing the estate in brilliant sunshine.

The mission of our walk was simple; to reach the village market, all of five shops, and head straight for Sharmaji’s dhaba. The walk and the fresh mountain air built us ravenous appetites, Sharmaji and his wife would serve what seemed to be the simplest of home food, yet in Chail it tasted divine, locally grown rajma, kardi, seasonal vegetables, rice, chappatis plastered with asli ghee, salad with sharp hari mirchis!

What a life! The wonderful feeling of being in the hills, lovely walks, reading under a shady tree whilst the cool mountain breeze wafts by to cool the brilliant sunshine! Afternoons leading into evenings, clear starry nights, the sound of crickets each shriller than the other, conversation, wine, more conversation, more wine, super dinner, inconclusive debate, and finally, ‘G’nite folks I’m hitting the sack’!  Off to sleep, a sleep so restful, something you had almost forgotten existed.

The essence of a visit to the hills is the salubrious effect it has on your being. The hard nose existence of a city life tends to make us impervious to the reason of our existence; in the serenity and purity of the hills one rediscovers and rejuvenates, and connects with the sublime being. Just as one would visit a spa or a wellness centre for cleansing, a visit to the hills has the effect of purifying the mind, body and soul. For the battered and bruised city dweller, a visit to the hills, preferably away from the touristic circuit, is like salve on a wound, and an annual trip must be part of one’s holiday agenda.

So the next time before you plan Paris, Zurich or Rome, consider a rustic cottage in the hills, with just you and nature!

rajeevsuri.cbms@gmail.com