Day 9:
Don’t Rush! My friend:
After a tough day , nice meal and an amazing night in tent started my ride towards Bilaspur
But today was different as my subconscious was recollecting words spoken by a stranger “pyaar se karlo bhai ithna jaldi me kyuh ho ” (Why the rush, my friend? Travel with love and embrace the journey )
I realized having a set target to reach a particular location at a particular time , I’m missing much , ” understood the means is much more important than the end result ” .As Bapuji said.
People around me express concern that my journey and hard work might go to waste. What baffles them even more is my decision not to vlog. To them, it seems like an exercise in futility – there are no recognition, certificates, medals, or prize money, no academic surveys leading to a Ph.D. What’s the purpose of it all
I believe the essence of my journeys, whether lies not in the external rewards or recognition but in the internal transformations and experiences they offer. Life’s meaning is not solely defined by certificates or accolades but by the personal growth, wisdom, and connections forged along the way.
When we embrace the journey for its intrinsic worth, we unearth a profound sense of purpose that surpasses superficial measures of success. This understanding goes beyond the cognitive grasp of herd mentality.
Inspiration:
After conquering the grueling initial 10 kilometers of an exceptionally steep road, I noticed a Babaji, clad in his vibrant orange attire waving for me to stop. As a sign of respect, I halted my journey. He approached and kindly suggested I take a break, even though I wasn’t tired. Something about the moment made me oblige
As I dismounted and engaged in conversation with fellow tourists, who had been inquiring with the same Babaji about purchasing some “charas,” something unexpected caught my eye.
A heavily loaded Atlas cycle appeared before me, with a simple sign affixed to the front handlebar bearing the inscription, ‘Anmesh traveler – zindagi na milega dobaara.’ (one life one chance in Hindi)
I felt immense joy knowing that there was another cyclist journeying across India. I entered the temple, and there I found a humble young man brewing chai.
With enthusiasm, our conversation began, and he expressed equal delight in meeting me. However, I couldn’t help but admire his true spirit of adventure.
He rode an Atlas cycle, worth Six thousand rupees, one with no gears. He made a habit of camping in jungles and had already explored over 12 states in the past 11 months and what’s crazy was this persons cycle dint seem much different from pulling a rickshaw.
Pushing a non-geared cycle through the rugged Himalayan terrain requires superhuman strength, and witnessing his determination filled me with the courage to tackle my own journey.
One of the standout moments of our conversation was when he declared, “Sabse accha biryani toh Hyderabad ka hai yaar”. As a Hyderabadi this statement swelled my heart with pride.
The Kind Mec:
Continuing my journey, I encountered more manageable inclines than the previous day, allowing me to cover nearly 40 kilometers.
If you’ve read my previous blog post, you’ll remember the challenging situation I faced when the front carrier broke, forcing me to redistribute the load to the back and continue cycling. To resolve this issue, I made a stop at a mechanic’s shop in Bilaspur.
The mechanic I encountered turned out to be an incredibly kind person. Not only did he assist in repairing the front carriage, but he also warmly offered me a cup of chai, which I gladly accepted.
He enthusiastically shared his love for his work and regaled me with captivating stories about the foreign travelers he had encountered on this way . He mentioned how they often made it a point to return and have lunch with him on their way back.
Throughout our conversation , he was fully engaged in skillfully repairing my broken carrier with a clever makeshift solution. It was evident that this fix would be reliable, leaving me feeling well-prepared and ready to take on the Himalayas.
As we bid our goodbyes, his warm and friendly gesture lingered in my thoughts. He extended an invitation, saying that if I ever found myself traveling the same route back home, I should not hesitate to meet him again.
The Workshops Offer:
I pedaled an extra 10 kilometers and arrived at a nearby petrol station to ask about potential places to camp. As I concluded my day’s journey, a feeling of weariness crept over me.
To my surprise, the mechanics across from the bunk took an interest in my journey and, after engaging in friendly banter, generously offered a bed in their workshop for the night.
I accepted their offer but decided to prepare my own meal, ensuring I had the required protein and carbohydrates for the next day’s cycling. Although they kindly offered roti and bhindi curry, I declined, determined to enjoy my own prepared meal.
They graciously allowed me to use their stove and utensils, simplifying my cooking process and conserving my butane.
Later in the evening, the workshop staff began enjoying some drinks. Initially apprehensive, I soon felt at ease, thanks to their warm hospitality and reassurances of safety. They thoughtfully arranged a comfortable bed for me, urging me to consider it my own home for the night
Insecure Me
I settled into my bed, pondering how a girl could embark on a solo journey when even someone like me felt a sense of fear. Nevertheless, as always, I kept my trusty pepper spray and concealed portable travel axe nearby, ensuring my safety throughout the night.
I hold immense respect for all the female solo travelers , as well as those I have encountered along the way of whom you will soon come to know about.