Camp III Bedani Kund, 12 May 2007

I was actually afraid that our noses would drop off with the cold—and we were to stay in Camp Bedani Kund for two days. Meena did not have any warm clothing on when she reached here and had been deposited in the kitchen tent (which was off-limit for us campers) by Manish. Lien who had got here before us, had swung into action, grabbed the best tent and then lain back to struggle with complications that high altitude brings on. Meanwhile, Priyanka of the girl gang was shivering and her lips looked blue. Manish told us to get the really cold ones into the sleeping bags for which I had to tussle with the camp attendant as they usually never gave then until after tea. Priyanka settled in and as Aparna reached she immediately tended to Lien and got Meena into something warm. Almost simultaneously, I received a desolate Nayanika who had been thrown off Munni and been kicked in the ankle that she had sprained. As Aparna got a bucket of warm water for compresses, the little walkie-talkie that Preeti had brought along crackled up with her voice. It was an SOS call to get help to Liz and Priya.

High altitude combined with the cold and the fatigue had got to Liz. Priya, who had defied the diagnosis of a slipped disc and braved the mountains was trying to keep Liz awake and had yelled across the mountains to Preeti who not only heard her words but even the emotion in her voice. It goes without saying that the Hargopal sisters were made of rare stuff and thank god (and their parents) for that. Preeti, who was nearer the camp than Liz and Priya had radioed Aparna right away. Mules were sent out but what reached them first were two porters to whom Priya reacted famously with something on the lines of I-do-not-need-men-I need-mules. (I do not have access to the exact quotes).

Meanwhile at camp, in all the rush I had forgotten that I had left Ayesha in her yellow raincoat, outside the tent with her backpack on. She had stood there patiently as I had run back and forth with sleeping bags, this time for Liz and Priya. Close to tears by now, I got some lunch for the kids and sat with Ayesha till Preeti came in and we waited for Liz and Priya with bated breath. Contrary to the dramatic images we had of them being carried in stretchers, we saw Liz riding in like Queen Elizabeth the First, ready to boost the morale of her soldiers before demolishing the Spanish Armada. She looked as pale and white as good queen Bess, except that she had this fuzzy woolen cap on. Priya, so much for the men and the mules, walked in with hands in her pockets to be swamped by her fans of various sizes. Once again, we were just glad to be together.

At this juncture, I need to side step from the trek and focus on a shining star: Aparna. If there ever was a healing presence among us, it was Aparna the Lovely. Tirelessly, without complaint, she had cared for everyone from the very beginning—from one sick child in the train to tents full of sick people. She would pull out her medical kit, hand out the doses, and use all possible endearments to make you feel good. The fever would drop with her hug, the breathing would get easier with her words, the stomach would settle down with her smile and all this without a trace of expectation. She stayed awake with each sick one all-night and rose in the morning even lovelier. Except that she had a head full of uncombed hair, a toilet roll shoved into one side of her jacket, a sanitizer in another pocket, medicines in yet another and god knows what else.

And it wasn’t just her—after so many days without a bath, we all had earned the bag lady status (except that Priya said I was a London maid with my headscarf and my need to organize everything ten times and still not find the one thing I wanted). Preeti was perfect too with her mismatched gloves. Completing our look was the bucket that Aparna acquired which we used to American-wash the plates and mugs, and er…a whole lot things, which I cannot recollect. Apart from being lovely, Aparna was extremely environmentally conscious. So were we, till washing up plates in cold cold Bedani Kund. I forced Narayana, the PT teacher to part with some paper plates that I carried triumphantly into our tent for dinner and stashed the plates, which were a story altogether. Meena’s plate had a cute mouse, Ayesha and Nayanika had a Pooh-looking bear parachuting down from nowhere, I and Aparna had elephants (god only knows why), Preeti had the Tasmanian Devil baring is fangs (we know why) and as for Liz she had a plate that was more like a Frisbee and Priya had a cross between a soup-bowl and a plate with a Barbie on it. We called it the begging bowl. “You have no idea what I used it for,” said Preeti in an aside. It wasn’t Spots the Dalmation’s water bowl was it? No—it was the fish-marinating bowl. Thankfully by the time the trek was over, some one-stepped on it and the Frizbee flew into Munni’s keeper’s keep—the rest of us are proud keepers of our famous trek plates, which one day will be put on display for the public.

Now to the evening of 12 May 2007. It was a pathetic cold night. Lien, Liz and Priya had a rough night but what was heart-wrenching was Meena’s ordeal throwing up her little guts out. Aparna stayed awake and barely slept a wink. Actually, except for Ayesha and Nayanika, we all lay there in our sleeping bags, hoping and praying that tomorrow would bring in a better day.