VISIT TO KUMBHALGARH

 VISIT TO KUMBHALGARH

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

30/IX/2024

 

NDA Course mates are ‘jiggries’ to the core. This is what led Ellis’ and Rihani’s to spend sometime in wilderness and visit Kumbhalgarh, a four hours drive from the Sun City for some leisure and pleasure and catch up with the history of Mewar region, besides solidifying our bonds.

 

An RV was set on the highway for our onwards journey. We all alighted and hugged each other to set the mood right. That is the time I realised that I had left my wallet at home. Luckily, the RV was at a stone throws distance. We told them to move while we fetch the wallet and catch up with them.

 

My eleventh sense starting searching for Mr Murphy. Hope he is not aware of our plans.

 

These days traffic police are active and lay ambushes at places where people tend to speedup. We were cruising at 100-110 kmph, when we had to take the first pit stop. An apology and a promise to watch our speed limits and we were off again crunching miles but within the stipulated speed.

 

Two hours and the usual fauji drill of a long halt and some chai-pakoras. ‘Rani’ was the place. We barged into a nice hotel. Bread Pakoras and garma-garam chai were ordered, while the children feasted on Maggi which they brought in eleven minutes instead of two. Having stuffed ourselves, we moved on. Now, the destination was less than two hours away.

 

We passed by the Ranakpur Jain Temples which we had planned to visit on our way back. The focus was on our destination.

 

The Aravali Mountain ranges are not daunting at all was my belief. However, the ghat section we started to traverse after village ‘Sayra’ appeared to be very stiff and steep. There were many hairpin bends and at places the road had been washed away in the recent rains, cutting it into a huge ‘C’ from where one could barely scrape the car across. We did it.

 

Now started the real uphill climb. Seven-to-ten-degree incline is tolerable by modern vehicles which are not 4x4. This was between ten and tweleve, a tough climb for my ten-year-old car. We hit a small patch of about fifty meters which was covered with rubble and loose stones due to the incessant rains. This won’t allow any traction to the wheels, even in the first gear.

 

There was an ‘unavoidable crater’ in the middle of the road. A little manoeuvre and the car stalled. I tried everything a good ‘Mech Officer’ could do to negotiate the last twenty meters but the front wheel drive would not allow it to go any further. All the ladies pushed the car, ki kisi tarah nikal jaye. The car was stuck. It had overheated too with the pulling it had done.

 

A passing motorcycle stopped by. This man was with his wife and small kid. He shared with us his local knowledge, including helping in pushing the car. The car started sliding rearwards towards the wall of the mountain and we almost had a belly touch before it slid into the rain water drain, thanks to a boulder we stopped.

 

Soon, a lot of people gathered and Sanjay too came down with help. In that milieu, the clutch plate got heated. One could smell it after ages after the desert posting days. The only way out was to tow the car. Where to get the towing vehicle from was a big ask? Sanjay went to fetch help.

 

A passing taxi driver offered to help too. So kind of him. He was going downhill and could send a 4x4 gypsy up to tow. We exchanged phone numbers but the mobile network wasn’t there. He said, he would call once he hit the plains and he did sincerely and with a lot of concern to help. A big thank you to that anonymous person.

 

By then Sanjay and I took a decision that I stay put with the car and he goes and gets help. Luckily, due to the drift and slide of the wheels, our car was not blocking the route. Local jeeps and motorcycles could pass by but with extreme difficulty. Even the motorcyclists would dismount their pillion riders to traverse the bad patch and then mount and move.

 

A few cars saw our car stuck and turned back to take an alternate route. They did a wise thing. Another car getting stuck at the same patch would have blocked the route completely.

 

In the mean, Sanjay got the ladies to some place to at least sit for a while. He returned with almost a ‘section’ of people. That is what friends are for.

 

These guy were local tribals, but quite aware and alive to the situation. Once these guys arrived the man on the motorcycle Suresh took leave. I thanked him and offered him some money for the help and company he gave. Nahi saab, paisa ke liye nahi kiya, madad karna hamara farz hai. Aap hamare desh aye ho. I felt like giving him a hug. A big thank you to him.

 

Now the final recovery process of our car began. By then the clutch had cooled down and was at its last bit of life. We tried again with boulders and local bushes put under the wheels, which didn’t work. Sanjay told me that they were getting a tractor. That would have been ideal, I thought.

 

In the meantime, I had rung up my garage owner and told him about the whole episode, who promised to send help and backup once we reach a place where the car could be repaired.

 

In the meanwhile, when the tribal methods of recovery failed, by now the clutch was completely burnt and could not engage the gear at all. It was about 2 pm and we should have been at our resort, if all had gone well. To add to our woes, it started to rain heavily. We continued to do what we were doing ignoring the rain. For half an hour it poured making that piece of road a muddy nala.

 

Now Mr Tribal brought his ‘Bolero’ pick up with a tow chain. I knew where the towing hook of the car was but then both I and Sanjay tried to give these guys instructions on the way to recover the car which fell on deaf ears. They did what they thought was correct and we didn’t push them hard, lest they say we are going back.

 

How were the ladies killing time on a road side shack, that story later.

 

Somehow, the tow rope was tied to the front axel and the towing process started. Heave, pull, push, putting stones behind the rare wheels to stop the car and the pick up rolling back, became the in thing. Then they loaded huge boulders in the pickup for weight or else the tyres were slipping. The pick up too gave up.

 

Sanjay told me that they had brought a tractor and it was round the bend. While interacting with the ‘working party’, I spoke to one chap in a red shirt. He was the tractor driver and told me that the tractor would be the last resort if the pickup didn’t not work. However, the tractor is old and the brakes do not work. Well, Mr Murphy you were at your best.

 

Finally, the tractor rolled down the slope at 1 kmph. It looked like ages for it to climb down those fifty meters. Finally, with a prayer on my lips, now the car was behind the tractor and I on the steering wheel. It was the last hairpin bend which I could see ahead which was the main hurdle. Beyond that could be hop, skip, and jump.

 

The first pull gave such a ‘jhatka’ to the car that I was sure it could have taken the axel away. The tractors rear tyres were ‘Ganja’ bald with metal threads showing. Its wheels churned and kicked dust. There was one more danger. If one stone got flicked, it could have smashed the windscreen. Stones flew but the windscreen got saved.

 

We got into motion and were off that mischievous gravel patch. It would be relatively easy after that I thought, but that last bit of climb took its toll on the tractor too. I just sat concentrating on the steering, praying.

 

We crossed the major hurdle when there were two big boulders with just enough space for a car to scrape pass. Even with a sense of alignment it was difficult to check both the extremes of the wheels while in tow. Lo and behold the left front tyre hit the side of that boulder as it was on a sharp turn. I heard a sound of a blast and I knew that the tyre had burst.

 

Once we reached on top of the pass and halted for a to check. Stepney hai, the driver asked, I said hai, badalni paregi. The tyre had given up because when we forced it to roll, it grazed against sharp boulders at the place we had got stuck. It needed a trigger to burst and it did finally.

 

Half the village had gathered to watch the tamasha. By then, the news was in ‘Kumbhalgarh Times’ which was another 30 kms away. The tribal family were good. They ran a puncture shop, a tea shop, and a tuck shop on the road. A hot cup of tea was so welcome. We changed the tire.

 

It was decision time. To leave the car there itself and fetch help or to tow it to the hotel and see what could be done. I decided on the later. It was 5 pm already by then and it would be dark soon. I requested Sanjay to take the family to the hotel and see what could be done form there, while I and my wife decided to get towed behind that tractor to our resort.

 

We started at the speed at which the Armoured division moves that is 5 kmph. To traverse those 22 kms, you can do the calculations. Had it been a fixed tow, it wouldn’t have been much of a bother, this was a loose tow with just about two meters from the tractor with its rear protrusions jutting out. It was a job of pure concentration and cool.

 

Our driver would warn me at times that he is going to brake. Come down hill, he would go ‘tally ho’ to build up speed for a portion of the next climb. He called it ‘moshum banana’. My wife kept talking to me throughout, but I would only answer in hmmm or hum and kept focused on the task, lest I ram into the tractor itself.

 

We took a short halt as there was a funny sound like something was grazing against the tyre. On inspection, we found the front mudguard had got entangled on one turn with the tow rope and was about to get under the front wheel. A few adjustments and we were back on the road again.

 

Finally, at around 8 pm we saw the board of our resort. We breathed a sigh of relief. There was a technical problem. No, we were not hungry as the bread pokaras had given us enough fuel. I had to do potty. Mind you the pressure was building up when we started the tow at around 2 pm. Holding it for six hours was no joke. Given a choice, I could have sat next to the hill side and blasted but then control was the key, both on the steering and on the guts.

 

Finally, we reached the entry gate of the resort. By then, Sanjay through the front office manager had already arranged for a towing vehicle and a mechanic. We parked our car and breathed a sigh of relief thanking God that we all reached safe. Sanjay told us that it is a very steep climb up and the hotel will send a cart to pick us up, which arrived soon.

 

When Noel is there things are never smooth. The ideal would have been, on arrival, we unhooked the car, paid the tractor driver, sit in the cart, and get to our room for more than one reason.

 

The twist to the tail was that the tow rope had knotted itself into such a tight knot that we used all the force on earth and it won’t get freed from the axel. By then the garage party had arrived. While the tractor driver was at it, I took a bottle of ‘mineral water’ and ran to the nearest boulder and relieved my self. Sorry Modiji, it was an emergency.

 

The garage people were experts. They unbolted the tie rod and removed the front tire and that is how the tow chain got unhooked and untangled. ‘Rehman Bhai’ the mechanic was a messiah. He promised to deliver the car the next day.

 

Now that the main ordeal was over, we reached the reception, picked up our room keys and rushed to our rooms. Phew, what a relief it was to reach Kumbhalgarh! Why can’t Mr Murphy leave me alone? I wonder!!!!!!!

 

 JAI HIND 

©® NOEL ELLIS