Nomads

Chapter 4, Pt 6- Freedom

It was in the afternoon when they reached Berhampore and decided to have lunch, they stopped in a restaurant. The manager was very excited to see Nasr carrying a guitar and was adamant about Nasr playing it, and singing. Nasr was very awkward and told that he knew no Bollywood songs, and only knew some old band songs and basic songs, and somehow got out of there.

They finally took to the broad part of the highway after getting out of Berhampore and drove at high speed again. Around four-thirty in the morning, they reached near Farakka and saw a major truck accident on the highway. The truck’s front wheels had completely come off with the suspension, and there were onions lying all around. They questioned themselves how they had made this far. They then saw a truck line that stretched for as long as three kilometers on the highway. The drivers had come out, lazing around. They were all waiting for the Farakka bridge to let them pass, it was a sight to behold.

When they zigzagged through the line of trucks and reached the Farakka bridge, Nasr was stunned at the sight in front of him. They were crossing the Ganga river and it was massive. Filled with water and ferries. Although he came from a city between two rivers, Mahanadi and Kathajodi, its tributary, were seasonal, and mostly dry. Ganga was glacial and he was seeing Ganga for the first time. They reached Malda an hour after the sun had set and were very worried if they would be able to find a hotel. They asked at many, but all were filled. They found one hotel, just on the highway side of the town and got a small AC room for eight hundred rupees. Nasr bought a charger from nearby and bought two rolls to eat. Subash didn’t go out and Nasr was too tired to venture into the city and it was getting late.

The next day, set out for Siliguri early. Siliguri was their last stop. It was the end of plain land and the beginning of the Himalayas. It was near the border of Sikkim. The highways were wide but too foggy and cold. They stopped at a tea stall; they could barely see their own hands in the fog. After having some warm tea. they were driving behind a truck to keep them warm from its exhaust. Nasr needed to go to the loo but had to wait for another thirty minutes before any petrol station would come. The station was completely empty and they had a feeling of triumph in their mind. They stopped at Islampur to eat some breakfast. Nasr talked to his mother then. As Silliguri came closer, their heart raced more. Tea plantations had started to appear and boards and milestones of the distance to Gangtok had started to appear too. They weren’t planning on stopping at Siliguri, they would eat some lunch and drive up to Gangtok the same day. They were excited and happy, the highways felt good, the military trucks were passing. They knew their destination was close, very close.

At a small traffic square in Siliguri, they stopped to ask for directions. But their bike keys were snatched by some men. Their heart sank, the men told that they had orders to do that. Nasr immediately called his family to ask and they told him that it was probably Subash’s parents’ deed. They asked to talk with the men on the phone, the men treated Nasr with respect and were making them sit and have some tea or food but Nasr was rejecting everything. They were three men, two from Bengal and one looked like he was from the Himalayas.

Nasr came to know that it was his paternal uncle’s men, and they were trying to keep him safe from the police because apparently Subash’s parents had alerted the police. Nasr was too emotional to think about everything. They were taken to a PG and locked there with those men. Subash kept convincing him that it was the deed of both their families, but both of them were too tired and emotional to think anything.

Nasr’s father called him finally and they both cried over the phone. His parents promised him that once the police thing was over, they would leave him to Sikkim on their own and even help him settle. He was too emotional to think anything. That night, Subash’s parents came and took him away, Nasr was sulking the next day. He had contemplated suicide that morning more than ever in his life. He knew their journey was over, they were so close to Sikkim. At least they could have reached there. As he looked at google maps that how close he was to the Mountains, the blue location icon even shaded the Himalayas in the nearby region. He was so close to his destination, yet so far. He was in despair. He was crying hard, played “In The End” and related to the lyrics-

“I’ve tried so hard and got so far,

But in the end, it doesn’t even matter”

He cried multiple times that day. He was respectfully taken by their men to car showroom workshop they worked in and he made good friends out of them. The Himalayan guy told him that he would even be his proper guide and help him when he came back. Finally, just before noon, his maternal aunt and uncle came to pick him up. He solemnly bent down to touch their feet, and he boarded a flight from Bagdogra airport close to Siliguri. He watched his dreams disappear through the clouds as the clouds. He was still hoping that they would at least let him go. But their journey was left incomplete forever, and all that he had given up to have Sikkim, and a new life. All the tough times they had to face, his dreams, it was all taken away. Their journey of starting a new life together would remain incomplete forever.

Now all he could do was to g back, and wait till he could come back. He respected their words; he would go again. His story didn’t end there.