Chris, the windswept, blond, and rather dishy Scottish instructor reassured me that it’s going to be OK. That the cables are strong enough to lift a minibus full of people, and I am mercifully much lighter than that. But I am dismayed to discover that even after much cheering and comforting by him, I am unable to contain my anxiety. Or is it sheer fear? It bursts out through my vocal chords as a range of grotesque sounds: from a throaty groan to a shrill squeal. There it is, my first ziplining moment at a modest 150 feet from the ground and 350 metres long‑the first part of the 5-tier ziplining experience, stretching across 1.5 km and the longest in Asia. Standing at the precipice, I am aware of the Terminal Velocity of the human kind. At a random posture my body freefall at a speed of 117-125 kilometres per hour, if the harness or the cable happens to give way. My mind goes into a flashback mode.
A charming weekend was planned at The Kikar Lodge in Ropar, Punjab. Sitting amidst lush foliage, and a forested estate spanning 18000 acres, it houses 30-odd cottages, a few common rooms, holiday package inclusive of set-menu meals, and is the perfect setting of peace and luxury. The rooms, I looked up on the Internet, are comfy-cozy with a dash of rustic country-living thrown in for good measure. I was thrilled.
As the early morning Himachal Express chugged in at the tiny Anandpur Sahib Station, the air was nippy and almost electric with mysticism. The lodge’s Innova was waiting for the transfer but first it was the time to do the unavoidable. The day began with a whistle-stop tour of the venerable Takht of the Sikhs‑the Anandpur Sahib Gurudwara‑the massive complex is clearly an important religion centre. An ardas began at 8 am, about the time when I entered the sanctum sanctorum, almost as if on a cue. Almost immediately, the prasada arrived: a mildly warm, sweet and greasy halwa that caressed the nerves of this overnight rail traveller from Delhi.
Next, I headed-off to my planned vacay spot‑The Kikar Lodge, which is about an hour’s drive from Anandpur Sahib. En route came a soothing journey into the rural Punjab with its bullock-carts and ‘Bullets’, dung-cakes adorning homes with football-shaped overhead watertanks, urchins playing unending games on the roadside, voluptuous women in colourful Patiala salwars catching up with the day’s gossip at the community tubewell, the mustard-fields immortalised by popular Hindi cinema, and a hedonistic aroma of ghee, pickle and earth.
As I took it in all, a dented but resilient sign board of Kikar Lodge appeared, pointing at the right direction. The mood was set. I straightened my back in anticipation. The Innova took a sharp turn at the bend, passed a tiny village with a handful of houses, their daily lives almost spilling onto the road. Up ahead emerged the gate to the lodge, but unlike a grand and concrete road that should lead to a fittingly luxurious haven, there was a dusty and dirt track instead. Nice touch, I thought.
The setting was of entering a National Park‑genuinely forested, wild, and unruly. After passing by a large area covered with wild shrubs, bushes, indigenous trees, an orange orchard, a few gentle swells of the ground below, and a generous parking area, we came to a halt in front of the concierge of the resort. From there it was the regular check-in and checking out process.
Being the peak season it took a while to arrange for my room (I guess a late check-out by some leisurely vacationing couple) but the management politely invited me for breakfast to which I promptly accepted. The modest but decadent spread comprised of some cereals, scrambled eggs, toasts, vadas and sambar dal, and stuffed-to-the-brim parathas. I skipped the rest and attacked the parathas, abandoning my New Year’s resolution of healthy eating, and relinquishing in front of the high and mighty Punjabi food.
The way to my room was almost a short trek from the reception and the common areas, with a foot bridge thrown in for the added effect. My room, a single-cottage affair with an en suite bathroom and a private patio, was a part of the ‘new wing’ of the resort. This section is newly constructed to cater to the resort’s growing demand in the North, I am told.
As if it were a divine conspiracy, the weather started to change rapidly at noon. Temperature dipped to a marrow-numbing three degrees Celsius, it started to drizzle with occasional hails and there was the cold Northern wind than require heavy-duty woolens to beat. Once indoors, I shut the doors and windows and curled into a ball in front of the single, rickety, electronic blower to thaw myself. Rest of the day was spent in an attempt to keep warm while sifting through TV channels.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of sparrows. On my patio a handful of these tiny birds had broken into a cacophony of community contest with a few silvery slivers of sunrays as a backdrop. Without much ado, I got ready to set out to explore the vast property. By my bedside I noticed pamphlets enticing the guest with a range of adventure activities‑from paintball to mud-biking undertaken by Xtremeways and Flying Fox Ziplining.
Before an experience, comes a preconception. The chanced knowledge of Flying Fox Ziplining experience whirled in my mind but I reminded myself about the mild acrophobia (or fear of heights) that bothers me every now and then. After much cajoling the self, the idiot-proof, point and shoot camera lured for some social-networking-worthy images and I thought of the adulation that would follow with conquering ones fears; I caved in.
Cut to the present and pregnant moment, it’s my turn zipline. The rest of the group has left already, hooting cheerily as they zipped. I try to shrug the nagging fear of freefalling, the terror of the height or even the embarrassment that I may cause myself in front of my fellow ziplining enthusiasts, and think about the bragging rights for attempting such a daredevilry. As instructed by Chris, I ‘sit’ on my harness, clench the pulley with my right hand and get ready to be dangled, whizzed, and swayed.
But as my feet leave any sign of a firm ground and I float on a crisp wintry morning air, I experience a profound silence that is not only overwhelming but addictive. The feeling is of riding the winds and getting carried away. Not only I look down but after the initial tingle in the spine, I begin to even enjoy the vast and verdant views. I am a different person, I already know.
And for the second and the subsequent rounds, I volunteer to be the first one to let go.
Getting There
Road:
The Kikar Lodge is located 320 Kms from Delhi via Panipat, Ambala, Chandigarh.
From Chandigarh it is 70 Kms via Mohali and Ropar. On arrival at Ropar (do not take the right turn to Manali), cross the Satluj Barrage, at the end of the barrage, turn right and continue for 27 Kms to Nurpur Bedi. The Kikar Lodge is about 3 Kms from Nurpur Bedi (follow signages)
Rail:
The nearest Station is Anandpur Sahib (about 14 kms or 20 min drive). The Kikar Lodge is about 70 Kms from the Chandigarh Station (1hr 30 min drive).
The Kikar Lodge
Village – Kangar, Nurpur Bedi
District Ropar – 140117 (Punjab)
Telephone: 01887 252218, 252219, 9478964971
Basu and The Bees 