08/07/2013 by Siddiqui Fayesal
My mother is sharp in these cases!
We hired another guy for it and gave the fleecing asshole a boot. Now, before you judge me, one thing about these mountain trips is that there is nothing new as such from the point of view of superficial sights. It’s the same mountain, the same river, the same geographic formations. It’s just tweaked and seen from another angle. So there are people who say that there is nothing new, and they’ve made a business, which it is, out of this sightseeing thingy. They aren’t wrong exactly. It’s just a matter of perspective. We were shown Nainital Lake, which lay at the doorstep of our hotel, from two different “points” where it looked like a Mango and an Eye respectively!
It’s the same lake mind you. I told dad that the ideal way to me of travelling is to drink in the sights. Not “points” but the local flavour. But, then these trips require more time. I’d walk the market, not to buy but just to observe. I’d eat at shacks instead of ordering from the hotel kitchen. I’d stay glued to the gallery of my hotel and the sights of every craggy twist and climbs and arches of the mountains would make me the poet I dream of in a day!
I’d write a damn sonnet a day.
Anyway, there were some real interesting historical/mythological significance to those lakes we went to. They were called thus: Bheem Tal, Naukutchia Tal, Khurpatal, Saat Tal, Garud Tal etc.
It’s interesting to know about Nainital itself. I hadn’t the slightest notion why it was called so. This was where I read about it first.
Our sightseeing came to an end but not before we were almost fleeced once more. This is the place I was talking about. There are innumerable online forums that talk about it. I was surprised that they’re still continuing with this crap after so many years. Without sounding like a pompous fart I’d say that my mom would’ve fallen for it if I wasn’t around. I had the sense to google their grand scheme while he was busy showing my mother Kashmiri shawls and what not. The morbid sense of humour that I possess, experiencing this grand scheme first hand lightened my mood incredibly and we reached base tired but satisfied.
The remainder was again spent scouring the market. One cannot prevent this from happening if one’s travelling with mothers and sisters who have decided to take responsibility of every living relative.
PS: I want t thank a couple of people who do the favour of reading through my posts and telling me where I go wrong. This post had a couple of technical errors which I have corrected thanks to them.
Garud is NOT a vulture. It is a falcon.
Pataal is NOT Hell. It is the Underworld.