Late night fiasco, Part- II

...Continued

THE JOURNEY

Villagers (in chorus): We told you not to go there. At last you came back to us.
Me: Big deal! No problem whatsoever. We're going back home.
Villager1: Come on. Don't give up so fast. We'll take you to the place you all have come to see.
Villager2: Yeah yeah. We'll take you there. You don't even have to pay us until we get you'll there safely.
Villager1 (pointing towards the hill): Can you see people with flashlights on top? We took them there.
Me: Where? I don't see anybody. Is something wrong with my eyes?
Me (beckoning to Sankarsh): Dude come let's get the hell out of here before they strip us threadbare (Old Suresh Gopi dialogue) in the jungles with their weapons and stuff.

As we all stood there contemplating on how to scoot from the clutches of the two morons in front of us, the headlight from the distance reappeared all of a sudden. They had been stalking us for so long and had probably realised what was happening. The villagers fled towards the fields by the roadside, figuring out their game was up. The cops, instead of pursuing us, took a nosedive with their bikes into the fields (an unusual, unmissable feat). This gave us time to escape from the place ASAP.

With our hearts beating faster than it would have if even the voluptuous Kim Kardarshian was to stand in front of us wearing skimpy clothes, we headed towards the exit. It would have been a totally different story if the cops had taken off to pursue us instead. I could notice the fear on everybody's face.

The best suggestion I could make was to tell everybody to get home immediately and catch up on some sleep, but, except for Khader, there were no takers for it. They all wanted to roam some more. So, the next best suggestion I could make was to go to Nandi Hills, around 20 km from there. I knew the fort gates weren't going to be open until six in the morning, but we had no choice. If not Skandagiri for sunrise, then at least the good old Nandi Hills we thought.

Another short break for snacks, another fuel fill-up in Sankarsh's bike and another session of discussing the agenda later, we found ourselves on the winding roads which led us to the top. It was almost 3 am as we reached somewhere near curve 35  (of around 48), where another unexpected event awaited us.

Around a dozen bikes and half a dozen cars came stampeding downhill shouting what we least expected to hear. All we could hear was- Cops! Cops! Cops! As if the cops were after their blood like some freaking mutated vampires. Well, we poor souls had no other option but to follow suit. The herd mentality among us Indians is unprecedented I must say. Also, we had no intention of getting beaten black and blue on our derrières for no fault of ours (though we were not sure why they should do this to us).

On reaching the foothills, I casually asked one of the shopkeepers why such a ruckus is being created by the cops. He said it was all because some miscreants had created some problems a few days ago on the hills. The guy also mentioned an event that happened in front of him where a car turned turtle while manoeuvring at high speeds. The forest department too was extra cautious about people entering the hills at such odd hours.

"The price innocent people like us have to pay for the misdeeds done by some overexcited eccentric hooligans" I thought. Turning such a calm, conducive place into something which needed police protection 24/7. The cops just seemed to be so ubiquitous in these parts of the district.

So, to say the least, this is how our ambitious night (mis)adventure turned from disaster to double disaster in a few hours.

THE RETURN

Well, with sleep getting the better of us, we had to leave for home sweet home. A novel way to waste a lovely weekend, we concluded. Vowing never to indulge in such spontaneous, erratic stupidity, I took over the bike from Sankarsh. As we entered city limits I realised the bike behaving in a funny manner. It tut-tutted to a halt for err- any guesses? Yes, the fuel was over once again!!!!! That too at five in the morning.

A perfect garnish to the dish of hopelessness (as if the dish itself wasn't enough) that we had churned out staying awake the entire night. What a way to end it. A total fiasco!!!

  **THE BEGINNING**

Late night fiasco, Part- I

PROLOGUE

It was a Saturday morning. I was casually sitting at home wondering how to while away my weekend when I suddenly got pinged by Sankarsh on Facebook. Now, Sanky (as we know him) had this long pending birthday treat that he was supposed to give us from the past three months. Having fooled around ever since and having used all escape mechanisms in his "How-to-escape-from-anyone" series of books, I finally found the right time to ask him for the party.

Sanky: Hi!
Me: Hi! Wassup?
Sanky: Bro I have a plan for tonight.
Me: What's it? I'm hoping you're finally giving your birthday treat.
Sanky: No dude, I have something much better in mind.
Me: What could be better than that?
Sanky: I think we all should go for an expedition of sorts. A night expedition.
Me: Where to?
Sanky: To Skandagiri. It'll be fun man.
Me: Dude, I prefer you giving a treat instead. I'm not in for any mountaineering at night. Especially on such a short notice.
Sanky: Come on bro... The others are ready. Don't be a spoil sport.
Me: OK count me in. But don't forget how treacherous it was climbing the hill the last time we went there.
Sanky: Hey that was during the daytime. It won't be half as difficult this time.
Me: OK. I'm trusting you on this. Catch you in the evening.

THE START

With the hope of not having got myself into a predicament, I started packing my bags for the trip. Now, our trip had six people in all- Sankarsh, Rohit, Jaiprasad, Khader, my brother Amith and I. The trek uphill was going to be at least 3 hours long and we intended to spend the night there, rest for a while, and return home after seeing the supposedly famous sunrise from the summit. I had packed water, some bedsheets, clothes, a flashlight and some light food for the trip keeping all this in mind.

The biggest concern before we go for any such trips is organising everybody to meet up at one common place (usually my house; that being the protocol). A few meetings, a few hundred calls and a few thousand SMSes later everyone finally showed their faces and we were able to leave the place at 11 pm. As if the time delay was not enough already (we were supposed to leave by 8 pm), two of my close friends started having an argument about who should ride pillion on their respective bikes. These were the exact bikes we had taken to Bandipur and Ooty for our previous trip. Sankarsh and Rohit started bickering about their respective bike's inability to carry heavy "loads" for a 120 km trip. Both wanted the small built Khader to sit behind them for the fear of their tyres getting worn out or their suspensions taking a beating or something like that. I was feeling sleepy already.

After half an hour of arguing and getting nowhere, we left the place at 11.30 pm only to find out that Sankarsh's bike had run out of fuel. Feeling sleepy, getting delayed by three hours, wasting time on a non conclusive argument, and that topped with the fuel episode was reason enough for me to doubt if the trip was going to be a failure or not. Luckily, after towing his bike for a while, we found a petrol bunk on the highway. Our official ride started then.

THE JOURNEY

Having ridden for two hours with a small break in between, we reached near the base of the hill at around 2 am. As we proceeded towards it two villagers stopped us with warnings of cops having blocked the road leading to the place. They persuaded us to park our bikes in a house nearby and offered to show us an alternative path to the top. Not wanting to believe them, we headed for the base of the hill only to be stopped by err who else- the bloody cops of course. They had blocked the only approach road with stones and weren't allowing anybody in. I didn't have to go anywhere to confirm my doubts now. Our trip was indeed a failure.

We left the place with a heavy heart. As we were going back, we noticed somebody following us from a distance. It looked like a bike (from the headlights) and we suspected the cops were behind us doubting we were up to something mischievous. After a while, the lights stopped flashing from behind and we stopped again in front of the two villagers who warned us against going where we went. They carried this cocky, smug looking faces as if they had won a battle against us or something; appearing in front of us like some resurgent rulers. I didn't think it was a good idea speaking to them again.

To be continued...