The Silent Savior

I swerved to the right and turned on the wipers. Other than the water pouring down the window shield, being swept away rhythmically, nothing was visible outside. I looked up the highway going straight ahead and tried adjusting the side mirror. On a foggy, rainy, chilly day like this, there was not much of a chance of any driver coming either from front or behind. Even then prevention is always better than cure. 

In the pitch dark, I glanced down at my digital watch. It was 10 to 10 pm. Not really late by any standards. But there was no hope of any restaurant being still open and serving customers in this part of the world.

I had my eyes up on the highway ahead when something swooped screeching down to strike the window glass on the right. In the darkness outside, I couldn't be sure but it must have been one of those predator birds that come down for a prey on a night like this. But I wasn't sure. It could have been a nosy owl, a lost monkey or even a squirrel. 

I drove on past the row of buildings made of stone, wood and mud. At a turning, the headlights from the car, caught a board somewhere : Tshimsham. This sleepy town in between Thimphu and Gedu is actually a thriving market place. The number of hotels like Karna Hotel, Hotel ABC, Ghaley's on both sides, serve some mouth-watering dishes like ema datse, Chinese noodles, Rice and Chicken Curry, Momo. But due to the incessant rains of the last couple of days, all of them were closed. The owners along with the servers must have put the shutters down long back. The weather forecasts for the night had cautioned the people not to hit the streets at any costs. There were possibilities of not only severe thunderstorm and lightning but also life-threatening landslides and flooding in the southern parts. 

God! What made me think of driving on such a horrible night? I couldn't help wondering. It was only then that I noticed the solitary hitchhiker desperately trying to draw my attention with what looked like a hand covered with the sleeve-end. I pressed hard at the brakes and fought hard to keep the car on the road as it skidded to a halt. The man, dressed in a robe the hood of which covered his entire face but for the cold eyes, got in as soon as the door was opened. The chilly wind sweeping in,  made me reach down for the heater. I pressed the acceletor next and turned my head back on the road again. 

My co-passenger and I drove on in silence as the downpour became relentless again. 

It was only after we had crossed Taktakothi towards the familiar terrains of Gedu that I decided to sneak a peek at my fellow passenger. He was remarkably thin for one so tall. His whole body was covered in a thick, black robe that the locals didn't wear normally.

Was he someone from the eastern part? A Tibetan tourist from further North? What was he doing out on the highway on a horrendous night like this? I couldn't help wondering. 

All these were going through my mind as we rode past the sleepy town of Gedu. The rain had decreased in volume by then when my co-passanger raised his hand. I was about to thank him for his company when, even in the darkness inside, I was terrified by the bloodless index finger. How could someone's fingers be so deathlike pale? Was the man anemic or what? I was pondering over the matter as I brought the car to a halt. The man didn't thank me, didn't even throw back a cursory glance at me. He simply got out, closed the door shut without as much as a sound, and disappeared in the gloomy air! 

I kept on driving, in a disturbed state of mind. Where did my nocturnal mate go? Then I recollected the story that students from Gedu used to tell me. Not far from the place where the man got out, there was a stretch of straight, sloppy area near Jumja which was considered risky for the traveller even in ordinary times. There was nearly some 5 yards of the curvy path. That was okay, I guess, but what was not was the sight of menacing surroundings that presented itself to a newcomer. On one side, there were the high, sombre-looking mountains covered with thick forests, while on the side on left there was absolutely nothing! Miles and miles of sheer emptiness! Just looking down the stiff cliff that ended in a zig-zag road almost thousand miles below, gave one the goosebumps! 

Many expert drivers met with tragic ends along the area. Was it not last week that the young driver lost control and got thrown out with all three other passengers? The driver's mutilated body was found by the Rescue Team the next day a few meters above the road below. Only 1 person was saved as his body got entangled in a shrub on a huge boulder some 100 feet down the cliff! 

Thinking about the terrible tragedy, sweats began to stream down from my forehead when I saw him waving at me, five yards or so from the start of the Jumja stretch. 

The ferocious winds and rains made it difficult for me to make his outlines clearly. He was, waving his right hand frantically from the other side, conveying the message that I should stop driving immediately, with a great sense of urgency. I slowed the car down a bit reluctantly and looked down the sloppy sides from the edge of the highway.

And then came the landslides.

I drove the car in back gear like mad just in the nick of time to see the fury of Mother Nature from a distance. Some 100 meters away from where I was, I saw some small stones coming down from the mountains on the right at first followed by some twigs and bigger stones. 

I stood stupified as the boulders then along with mud and sand, came crashing down on the road before crossing over, off the road and down the foggy space of nothingness on the left. As they fell, there was a rumbling, thundering sound all the way down the cliff! 

As Mother Nature's Dreaded Dance ended half an hour or so later, I could see on looking back that there was a thatched house or something similar behind. I shut the engine of the car and came out. I remembered my fellow passenger then. Without him, I wouldn't have been alive to narrate this story. 

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That is not the end of the story, dear reader. Expecting that it would take the BSF people at least an hour to clear the debris, I took a U-turn to head backwards looking for a hotel. 

I was in luck. Some miles away from the dreaded sight, I found one with sparks of burnt wood coming out the chimney. I had missed it while going down as it was away from the highway. 

As I stood near the Bukhari still a light with some small pieces of planks to warm myself, my eyes fell on a picture on the wall. 

"Who is that young man, amma?" I couldn't hide the excitement in my voice as an old, withered lady came out of the kitchen with a mug of tea. 

She didn't reply my question. Possibly, she hadn't heard the question either. 

"Is that your son, ama la? Does he live here with you? "

She looked me in the eye before answering me back all at one go! 

"He was my only child who got lost to me in a landslide some thirty years back, on his way back to the Tibetan Monestry..."

Thirty years? But the man couldn't have been more than thirty!

I could feel the chill run down my spine. Yet, I mustered up enough courage a few minutes later to thank my saviour silently. 

The End