The last leg of our India trip was to the Himachal State. Himachal (Him+Aanchal) literally means a dupatta or cover of snow, alluding to the snow-capped mountains of this state. The trip proved to be the most memorable part of our Indian journey. The Himachalis call their land dev-bhoomi or the abode of gods. One has to agree that the gods didn’t make a bad choice for their abode.

We entered Himachal in a train officially called “The Himalayan Queen” but unofficially known as Toy Train to the rail aficionados because of its small size - about six feet wide compartments - and its slow speed of 10-20 kms/hour. The train has large glass windows which provide one with a 360-degree view of the panoramic scenery of the land it traverses. The train merrily chugs along mountain loops and valleys through dozens of tunnels,
gorges and valleys. One could even run along it and get on it if one were bold enough to do so.

I had expected the train to Shimla to be empty in February. Far from it! It was more full than most of the other trains that we took during our travels in India. The reason for this high occupancy was the wedding season in Delhi and Panjab. The train could easily be called the Honeymooners’ Special. Unlike our previous journeys, this time we were in an open compartment and not cooped up in a 2x2 coupe. So, I thought we would get an opportunity to explore a bit about our fellow travellers, but except for a few foreigners, our honeymooning co-passengers were understandably more interested in exploring each other than in us or even in the beautiful landscape outside.

When the train was passing through Solan, we saw a huge sign of Mohan Breweries, the oldest brewery in India founded in the 1870s and the maker of the legendary Golden Eagle beer. A fellow passenger told us how the brewery, whose original name was Dyer Meakin Breweries, was bought by one of the Indian employees of the company after the British left India and renamed Mohan Meakin Breweries. I also learnt that the owner has since renounced drinking and is instead singing “Mata diyan bhaitaan” (odes to Vaishno Devi) in all-night jaagrans. Apparently, the religious revival has turned even Saaqis into Zaahids.

The train continued its leisurely chug-along to Shimla. We started to see the city more than an hour before we actually reached there; it took 20 or so kms of train journey to cover an aerial distance of 2-3 kms. The first thing I noticed when we reached the Shimla railway station was the large number of hatos –the Kashmiri porters- offering their services. Later on, we saw more and more of them in the city. I was told that while Kashmiri porters have always been a part of the Shimla scene, their numbers have grown substantially since the insurgency in the valley.

Shimla derives its name from Shyamla Devi, a local Hindu goddess. It was discovered by the British in the early 19th century and developed into a hill station during the later part of that century. It is spread along a 12 kilometre long ridge at a height of over 7000 feet above the sea level. When the British moved their Raj headquarters from Calcutta to New Delhi, they found the heat unbearable and decided to use Shimla (or Simla as it was called by them) as their summer capital.

As in other hill stations in India, everyone goes in Shimla to the Mall in the evening to see and be seen. In fact there is not one but three Malls in Shimla. In addition to the main Mall, there is also the Lakkar Mall and the Lower Mall where there are a large number of stores selling beautiful woodworks and shawls. The lower mall caters more to the natives than to the tourists who are happy to be fleeced by the high priced merchants, restaurants and souvenir shops on the main Mall.

In the centre of the Mall is a place known as Scandal Point which is now adorned with a statue of Lala Lajpat Rai, the well-known Panjabi freedom fighter. I was curious to know how the place got its name. I was told by a “reliable source” (my driver) that during the British period, the Maharaja of Patiala, whose kingdom was nearby, was caught there with a white girl which created a scandal, thus the name Scandal Point.

In Shimla, we hired a car to take us to Kufri mountains. To get there we had to park the car 2 kms from the peak and had to cover the rest of the journey through slush covered hike on what everyone called horses but were, in fact, mules. These mules are well trained and have memorized their 45-minute journey to Kufri peak very well. When we reached the peak, the mule trainer told us that we had two options: go back in 20 minutes or less or enjoy the scenery for 90 minutes, with no middle ground. The reason for these strange options was that if we were to take the second option, the mule would go back and bring back another passenger while we waited.

From Kufri we could see the mountain range which separates India from China. As in every other tourist place, telescopes had been set for various distant sights. One of the sights shown by the telescopes was a ‘temple’ set in a picturesque spot. The amazing thing about this temple was that it was not used for worship but specially built for shooting Bollywood films.

The next day we went to the Hanuman temple at Jakho which revived some early childhood memories for my wife. She remembered seeing some Langoors (lemurs) there but now all we could see were an army of aggressive monkeys who aggressively approach people and some of them even want to search people’s pockets and handbags to see if they can find any goodies for themselves; they do so fully secure in the knowledge that Hindus won’t harm them because they are considered the progeny of Hanuman. For those who know the story of Ramayana, the temple is associated with a story from that legend. When Ram’s brother, Lakshman, became unconscious during a battle with Meghnath, Hanuman was sent by the Vaid (doctor) to the Himalayas to bring a specific plant called “sanjeevni booti” which would have revived him. However, Hanuman could not distinguish one plant from another, so he carried the entire mountain with him. Jakho temple is situated at the place where Hanuman was deemed to have stopped for a brief rest.

From Shimla we rented a car to go to Kulu, Manali and Dharamsala. The drive from Shimla to Manali is full of breathtaking scenery. We travelled on narrow, winding roads which hug the mountains on one side and have the river Beas on the other. The river flows sometimes in narrow streams and sometimes in wide span, sometimes at the road level and other times deep below the road. The water is pure and clean but keeps changing its colour. The roads are narrow and the turns give a new meaning to the phrase “hairpin turn”. Sometimes, an oncoming vehicle has to stop to let you pass.

Manali is the place where we had gone for our honeymoon 35 years ago. Back then, it was an idyllic little town nestled in the mountains. Now it is the honeymoon capital of North India. Both Shimla and Manali were full of Indian tourists, mostly honeymooners. A strange phenomenon we noticed in Shimla and especially Manali was the sight of several honeymooners roaming about in pairs. We couldn’t tell whether they had planned
their honeymoons together or just made friends while there. In any case, I think there were more honeymooners in Manali than we see at Niagara Falls. The big attraction for people in Manali is the snow. After seeing Bollywood lovebirds rollicking and frolicking in the snow in many films, the Indian honeymooners want to do the same. As a matter of fact, wherever we took a guided tour in India, the guides invariably reeled out the names of the Bollywood films which were shot at that particular location.

As I suspected, the place where we had stayed for our honeymoon has not survived the town’s fame and prosperity. Back then we had stayed at a log-hut in an apple orchard run by the Bannon Family, some Anglo Indians or Englishmen who had stayed back in India after independence. Now the same place has been turned into a spanking new mansion called John Bannon’s Resort.

Manali also has a small foreign population attracted to it by its natural beauty. They run restaurants serving Italian and other European foods and run curio shops. From Manali we tried to go to Rohtang Pass towards the Chinese border but the road was closed to traffic a few miles from Manali because of the snow (memories of Canada, eh!). Here we drank some untreated mountain fresh water; the real thing definitely beat the so-called mountain spring water sold commercially in bottles.

The next stop was Dharamsala. We stayed a few miles from the town of Dharamsala at the house of a returned NRI with an American wife. We were surprised to see that the American wife and children were all quite happy in the middle of nowhere at a place which lacked the amenities of an Indian city life, let alone those of the U.S. There were, of course, the desi compensations of a large mansion and an army of servants plus a colony of foreigners in the nearby McLeod Ganj. McLeod Ganj is the headquarters of the Dalai Lama and attracts a large crowd of his white followers, especially Germans, French and Israelis. We also got the best (and least expensive) Alfreddo Fettuccini in India in McLeod Ganj at an Italian restaurant run by a Tibetan.

Himachal Pradesh used to be a part of Panjab until 1966 and Panjabi culture and enterprise continues to be strong here. Panjabi dhabas dot the narrow but well-kept Himachal highways, with names like Panjabi Dhaba, Vaishno Dhaba and –most popular of all- Sher-e-Panjab Dhaba. These dhabas have now gone somewhat upscale and provide China and cutlery (and even private bathrooms, instead of the vast open backyards). Our most surprising experience of a dhaba was on the highway to the Rohtang Pass. There on one side of the road in full glory was a sign “Ludhiyane di Rasoi”, in both gurmukhi and english, a dhaba run by a sardar and his sardarni. His specialty was makke-the-roti and sarson-da-saag. I am one of those rare Panjabis whose favourite dishes don’t include this Panjabi specialty, so I asked him if I could have something else. I seemed to have hurt sardarji’s pride who insisted that I tried his makke-the-roti before anything else. I did and it was really delicious. My wife asked if she could have some makhan and shakkar to go alongwith makke-the-roti and it was provided in no time at all. He would have even provided lassi, except that the milkman from the village had not delivered that morning because of the heavy snow the night before.

One cannot visit Himachal without noticing the large number of temples there, both large and small. They are mostly devoted to mother goddess, the famous ones being Jawala Devi, Naina Devi and Chumunda Devi. These temples attract many pilgrims. The newest place of pilgrimage, though, is the massive Buddhist temple built by the Dalai Lama at Dharamsala which attracts a large number of foreign tourists, especially from Europe and North America.

A somewhat unusual feature of the Himachal temples was to be stopped sometimes on the highway outside a temple. At one such stop, we were offered prasads in donas (a cup made of large leaves) which was quite delicious. Suddenly, our driver asked if they had some “ghota” which I found out was a local term for bhang (marijuana). To my horror, the people went inside and brought the ghota for the driver. I told him that I would not let him drink (marijuana) and drive and he answered, “sir, but I was doing it all day yesterday and you didn’t even notice”. We fervently prayed to the Devi for a safe journey until we reached our destination.