July 17th, 2024
04:45 PM
Rain was becoming harsher as if nature had decided to teach us a lesson. Lesson that fear is a necessary survival trait. We carefully huddled on the rocks with firm hands holding the umbrellas. A dissident streak of setting sun rays fell on our faces. Extinguishing the bliss and hope we had garnered so far. The only thing giving us courage was the collective trust in human evolution and the ancestral roots we often tend to forget. More than the natural factors, there was another situation sending shivers to our spines. Two of our team members had gone astray in the deep labyrinth of the Garbett trek.
08:55 AM
A small group of us, weary from long office hours and inspired by our seniors, waited anxiously at a local Mumbai subway station for our trek to Garbett plateau, the third-highest point of the Mahabaleshwar range. After an hour and a half of travel and a few selfies we started seeing these points on the horizon. Smiles spread across all our faces and our loud cheer faded into the roaring train horn.
11:15 AM
The aloo parathas were still warm when we unwrapped them from old newspaper coverings. We bought enough water bottles for the journey and negotiated loose tomato sauce to savour with parathas since the shopkeeper did not have such a thing to sell. We followed a path suggested by the google maps and to everyone’s surprise, just after one or two kilometres, found a lake surrounded by lush greenery with numerous streams of water draining into it. In the distant background, adorned with feather-like clouds, the Garbett point was tempting our evolutionary traits fueling an innate desire to conquer its height.
02:30 PM
We had to rely on our instincts and intuition since there were no clear signs or directions pointing towards the peak. We were trekking on a weekday, and the only checkpoints were empty stalls, offering a small confirmation that we were heading in the right direction.
At one such stall, some of us stopped to buy water bottles and refreshments. It was right after this that our group got separated into three. While some of us paused to pay for the supplies, others continued ahead, likely to find the trail and way forward.
However, sudden rainfalls and zigzagging paths through villages disoriented everyone. And the steep elevation and torrential rains constantly tested our nerves.
03:04 PM
Gathered around a blue water tank at the end of a village, our expressions started to change. We shared our location and a video with the two guys who had mistakenly taken a different path, thanks to the constant connection on our phones. Some of us called out their names, venturing deeper into the wilderness only to find nothing. Later, it was decided that everyone would try to reach the bright yellow stall, beautifully nestled in the plateau's lap, the only common landmark visible to both groups.
03:38 PM
Someone sighted two figures wearing red and blue near the top, same as our other two mates who were supposed to come from the other side. We shouted and to our extreme astonishment they responded. But this happiness lasted for only a couple of moments. My phone rang. They were not there, the figures we had just seen were some other people. In fact, both of them were retreating and trying to reach the same blue water tank where we first found about the goof up. After fifteen minutes again two figures emerged. This time it was downhill, near the blue water tank. A phone call confirmed that each and every member of the group was in sight and accounted for.
05:00 PM
The day was getting over, yet we had only covered half of the fourteen kilometre long trek to Garbett point. Although we had started early, the captivating, mesmerising but testing landscapes of Western Ghats made our pace slower. We lost track of time, reaching the halfway point after nearly four hours. I opened my bag and opened a box of chocolate brownie cakes. From this point, we started rationing every ounce of food we had. Then, someone suggested sending a scout party forward to see what lies ahead. Fearful of another goof up we chose to wait and regroup before continuing.
05:18 PM
Everyone cheered and clapped when all of us were together again after two hours of emotional turmoil. At this point only a few hours of sunshine were left and we had not even reached the top. Finding an exit route was another challenge. We accelerated our pace and later found a dead end. The only visible route was through a shrunken waterfall. Any misstep on the slippery rock was a guaranteed fall in the deep gorge. Some of us started retreating back but the others went back and found a gully-like path covered with thorns and mud. The path was leading upwards sharply, circumventing the plateau. This pebble laden path was on the extreme edge making everyone nervous. We did not look down to avoid the fear of height. Shouting Lord Shiva’s name we moved forward with caution. After a few minutes, we found Lord Ganesha’s photograph beautifully placed near the top. Then emerged a saffron flag. And there was nothing after that except for raw, fresh natural beauty. After seven hours, we were finally on top of the plateau.
It was the most wonderful view I had ever seen. We were thriving at the same altitude as the clouds. The entire area was covered with fluorescent green, soft grass. A surge of euphoria washed over us. Everyone was shouting and running, but suddenly, silence fell. It was a moment of absolute humility—a realization of the smallness of individual human existence. There was nothing but distant shades of green on the horizon, beautifully adorned with clouds. We could see the lake, but it appeared ridiculously small from such a height. The scenery of miniature waterfalls and streams made the view hypnotizing. We took group pictures.
06:07 PM
Up to this point, none of us knew how or when we would exit this trail. I texted someone I knew, hoping to get an idea about the exit. A few of us even considered staying there until morning, fearing the imminent sunset. My own mind kicked into survival mode, randomly suggesting ways to endure the night. My throat was parched, and I started contemplating how I would collect rainwater using upturned umbrellas.
Nearly a hundred meters ahead, one of us discovered disturbed soil, hinting at a very narrow path around the peak. We cautiously ventured into the unknown. Our courage was swiftly rewarded with a wide path marked by tire tracks. The sign of vehicle accessibility boosted our energy and propelled our pace. We continued onward; the makeshift road seemed endless. At one point, it began ascending, causing us to doubt our senses. Fallen trees, the setting sun, and an eight-hour continuous trek drained us physically and emotionally. There was no water, no food, and no clear exit. My proposed five-minute break was vetoed down to two minutes. One of us filled a bottle with water from a muddy stream, praying that he would never be in a situation where he had to use it. The prayer was answered. We heard the sound of horns—vehicles were nearby. Everyone finally felt alive. A newfound appreciation for life blossomed in our hearts.
07:20 PM
This absolutely amazing, terrifying trek ended on a happy note. Moments before hearing those horns, we were cluelessly wandering into uncertainty. It taught us that in every given situation there is a choice. We were frightened but we chose to be happy. We were terrified, but it did not stop us from cracking jokes. Another thing it taught us is that human salvation lies in togetherness. Though selfish behaviour serves a utilitarian purpose and elevates individual growth, individuals are not separate from society. He or she must return to it gracefully by sharing fruits of its actions, choosing kindness and serving the greater good.
Through the glass windows of the vehicle, we could see the contours of the plateau. It was standing there magnificently. Millions of years have passed since these structures were formed. It has seen all human evolutions, and will continue to do so. We will not be here forever, but it will be right there for millions of years, elegantly adorned to welcome the next generation of visitors.