by Somya Gupta
PureTravel Writing Competition 2023
Like every alternate year we were planning our trip to some unexplored state of India. That year, we decided to travel to God’s own country, Kerala. A significant state in the country well known for its incomparable landscape and tea plantations. I was only 8 at the time and have a very particular selection of memories from that trip, especially Munnar. The town residing in the lap of nature that’s so beautiful that it can turn beasts into humans with heart. The surreal town felt almost like escapism. If there’s a town that can heal, it is Munnar.
Anyways the incident that still gives me goosebumps, to this day, took place at a trekking site near the town. It was Rajamalai Eravikulam National Park. It was a one hour bus ride from the town to the trek. We, as a family, have an image of waking up late on trips and we never fail to live up to it. So, my sister, me and my mother, all were late to catch the bus. We somehow managed to hop on a bus at around 2 pm.
We got on the bus, sat on the front seats and started to wait patiently for other passengers to arrive, but nobody did. The driver took to the driver’s seat, started the ignition and began driving. By this point the day started to get a crisp and chilly feel to it. We reluctantly asked the driver, “Why are we the only passengers?” He turned around, laughed heartily and replied “The traffic is significantly low during this time of the year”. He was a skillful driver, drove successfully while stopping on the hilly route to show us mountain goats. It took us about 1.5 hrs. to get to the spot, it was 3:30 pm and we were sure that we would make it back by the time the sun set. It was an easy trek, with cemented roads built around the hill to reach the top.
We began walking and mid- way to the top, the weather started to deteriorate. It was the month of April, meaning that weather like this isn’t common. Clouds started to gather in the sky, darkness followed and the hill got covered in mist. Weirdly enough by this time we started to notice that nobody was actually on the trail that we were currently on. My mother and sister started to get a hold of the situation and insisted that we go back down. But, I was 8 and largely lacked the quality of having good judgement but also because there was a lady way ahead of us, almost on the verge of reaching the top. I still remember her very clearly to this day. I told my mother, “We should continue, because even this lady is going.” I pointed her out to my mother and she said there’s nobody. She was looking me straight into my eyes while she continued walking.
As I was looking towards her for a few seconds, everything became even darker and foggy-ier. The silence became harrowing, the chirp of crickets made the whole place even more eerier. My mother decided that we should go back against my will and we did. We hopped on the bus and I started to look for that lady in the crowd of people, to find those familiar sets of eyes that stared at me on the trek, but I never found those. My failed attempt at finding the lady led me to question what I witnessed. But I did see her, I really did. She was right there, I remember the way she was dressed up, those eyes were as real as they could be. She was not a figment of my imagination.
Next morning, the guy at the front desk asked us about our day yesterday. We told him the complete story, my mother even made a joke about the part where I “imagined” a lady on the trail. The look on his fresh face changed to the one filled with tension and beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead. He only managed to say one sentence, “The bus that you took was the last one back.”
Photo by Srinivasan Venkataraman on Unsplash
