And then they all started laughing.
I closed my eyes and breathed. And in my mind, I undid all the planning those two words had triggered.
They find it fun, telling me such things.
They trick me every evening.
And like every time, their trick works.
But then my fears are not totally misplaced.
Why, the other day, the route had broken down at three places. And it had taken 7 hours to get a green signal. And then, one day, I had reached the office late – having braved a caving road and a minor transshipment.
But this last Saturday, topped them all.
The route was slippery through and through.
The Beas roared, fumed and swelled.
The clouds thundered and the lightning crackled almost all day long. A mighty tree broke down. And with it came down, many temporary shops that had nestled under it in good times.
The stretch across Thalout looked beautiful but intimidating with the water about to rise up to the road and the Rainsh Nala imitating a smaller version of the Niagara Falls.
The black mounds of rocks, now, mere rubble, greeted us at every corner near Hanogi Mata Nyaas.
The Jogani Mata stretch was crossed under heavy torrents of water dripping from mountains looming over the road. People crowded the temple, their eyes locked on the cracks, watchful and warning of the final collapse. The muddy debris was sliding down, fast, furious.
Between Pandoh and Dayod, the PWD and JCB people were working hard, to keep the debris off the road. Salute to their spirit.
Sambhal was the nightmare. Two monstrous rocks had fallen and the route had been blocked off completely. JCB’s had failed. And drilling machines were already sweating.
And, here my writing fails me.
All I remember is a rock pierced our car from one side, muddy debris hurled towards us from the other side and ardent, loud prayers filled the air around me.
I later heard they blasted the dinosaur.
Linking up with Trifecta: Week Forty