‘Why can’t we inhale pine scented air all the time?’ my lungs, who have been at the receiving end of the substandard city air, seemed to say. ‘Don’t worry. Soon, I will settle in a cottage in the hills,’ I mumbled (I have been planning this for the last twenty years and shall keep on doing so as long as I live!).
My pupils were getting fully dilated by the picture postcard views all around. It was nothing short of a miracle that this picturesque area of Himachal Pradesh had escaped getting swarmed by the highly disruptive and extremely demanding species named the domestic tourist. This is precisely the reason why I avoid disclosing the exact location. Trekking with me were a few members of the nature club, thought of as freaks by many. Observing and photographing birds, butterflies and plants gives us a bigger kick than super strong beer. We were descending a path paved with stones- a simile for the journey of life. With a walking stick in my right hand, I felt as surefooted as a mountain goat.
Then I glanced upon a beauty- a butterfly with iridescent blue wings. I had to photograph it because it seemed like a lifer (naturalists’ term for a creature seen for the first time in life). But it hid in a nearby bush- as if a diva was avoiding paparazzi. Then misfortune decided to give a glimpse of it lest I developed the illusion that life was like a rose without a thorn. In a millisecond, my walking stick slid on the surface of a rock and I fell down on the path with a thud. The right ankle cried for help- in the form of pain. In true filmy style, I asked for water and even rolled my eyeballs upward. My observant friends sensed that though I was injured, my reaction was out of proportion to the injury. So, they made me get up. Like a typical Indian, I tried to find a scapegoat. Parents, spouse, government, constitution, CM and the PM- none seemed to have a role in this. I had voluntarily chosen the less trodden path.
While I was travelling back, the right ankle slowly swelled to double its size. As soon as I reached home, my better half said, with some justification, ‘I wouldn’t allow you to go on such trips in future.’ But she relented after I reasoned, ‘Those who have a roadside accident don’t stop travelling. Also, nature watching keeps me away from the vices!’
The injury was diagnosed as a mild sprain and I had to walk around with a stick for a few days. My inquisitive acquaintances, while expressing sympathy, invariably asked me the mode of injury. I told them about the fall but avoided revealing to them that I was distracted by a butterfly. Otherwise, it would have been presumed that it was a metaphorical butterfly and not a literal one.
Few days later, there was a brainwave- could there be an issue with the walking stick. I decided to inspect the stick. The rubber cap at the lower end of the stick had worn off- the probable reason for my fall while trekking. Ordered it from an online store immediately.
A lesson for a lifetime, learnt the hard way.
Even adventure should be planned- as if it is a venture!
