The last 10 miles of the road to Nako has one hairpin turn after another. Since the traffic had been stalled for 4 hours, as we climb, I can now see the yellow and red lights of cars painting the mountainsides at several levels. From a vantage point, on the opposite hill, it would have made for a spectacular long exposure photograph. But we are all cold, tired, hungry and impatient to reach our night halt now so the convoy is moving as fast as it can on these challenging roads. As we climb, the arid rocky mountainside starts to turn from brown to white as snow appears, first in patches and then in swathes. With every turn the temperature drops, air thins, and the engine temperature of our gypsy keeps rising. It’s close to the danger mark but just under and so we keep going.
It is at this time that Jatin, who is driving, decides to spray and swipe the dusty and hazy windscreen of the Gypsy. I notice and approve of his decision. But, 2 turns later our windscreen is dusty and iced. Actually, it is much worse that it has been before the spray and swipe. That is when we both remember the forgotten Romanov.
For those uninitiated in the art of driving in sub-zero temperatures, let me elaborate. Eleven hours ago, at our daily briefing in the morning, Puneet, our expedition leader, had advised everyone who didn’t have Vodka to buy Vodka on the way. So, we stopped along the way to do that. Jatin went to liquor store, made enquiries about all brands of Vodka available and settled on a brand that could be consumed by vehicles and humans alike. After some price negotiation, the Bolshevik-sounding Romanov was purchased. It was then carefully wrapped and safely secured in the corner of the boot of the vehicle, to be retrieved at the appropriate time. At the appropriate time, which would have been at the lunch break, we both forgot about the Romanov. So, going at 40 kms per hour up a dusty, hazardous road on a super cold December night, when we decided to spray water on the windscreen, it froze before we had the time to wonder where the frost on the windscreen was coming from.
“Now what? Should we stop to add the vodka to the water now?”, I ask in mild panic. “It’s too late now. We stay with the convoy and follow the lights”, comes the composed reply from Jatin. So, exhausted, cold and now half-blind, we follow the tail lights of Shibu’s Isuzu, hoping for nothing more than reaching alive.
It occurs to me that I have placed my life in the hands of a man who I met only 2 days ago.It seems absurd but then trust can never be gained by intellectual reasoning – only by surrendering your destiny in the hands of another and hoping for the best.
