Panchgani trip - 1

A bunch of us set off for Panchgani one rain-drenched morning a few weeks ago. The five hour drive from Bombay, though a bit long, was not tedious at all – the view provided sufficient distraction, and there were friends and a music system for further amusement. It was the kind of journey that made one want to break out into ‘suhaanaa safar aur yeh mausam haseen’ (assuming one was one of the same vintage as yours truly, of course); intermittent downpours caused by the heavy grey monsoon clouds thudding across the sky, hills nearby covered with a canopy of green, hills in the distance wearing wreaths of vapour on their crowns.









We had been lucky enough to get rooms at a highly recommended place called ‘Il Palazzo’, fewer people must travel to Panchgani during the monsoon season. We caused some consternation in the kitchen when we arrived – I had omitted to mention that two of our group were vegetarians, the lunch that the hotel had prepared had mostly non-veg items. They quickly managed to rustle up enough for a meal for two vegetarians though. (Note : For non-vegetarians, meals here are like being transported to paradise –mutton, chicken and fish – all in one meal and all delicious. The amount you hog makes you feel quite guilty, though not guilty enough to skip dessert.) Lunch was served in a small porch-like area just outside our rooms, which gave us the satisfaction of looking out at the tall trees in the garden swaying in the rain and added an exciting picnic – like feeling to the meal. Like pythons that need to rest after a heavy meal, we all collapsed into bed after lunch, only to emerge in the evening at the sound of the tinkle of tea-things being laid for those in neighbouring rooms.



After tea, two of us set out for a small stroll. We stayed off the main road and walked along small streets set with cute cottages. We passed a charming and modest temple, all white with a reddish-orange border like a Bengali sari. We meandered up and down roads at random, seeing where they lead to. By the time we decided to return, it had darkened a bit and we could see a fine mist descending down the hill onto the road. A breeze that had simultaneously sprung up in the opposite direction seemed to push the mist back. The long white fingers of the mist retreated, regrouped and then rushed downhill again. Fascinated, we watched the wind and the mist sparring to establish dominion over this part of the road. The mist was victorious eventually and we decided to hurry back to our hotel before it got dark.

Around this time, we heard the evening call of a masjid, the silence it made its way through and the deep baritone of the person calling to the faithful in an unhurried rhythmic cadence made it a very peaceful sound, one we hadn’t heard in a long time in the din of the metropolis we live in.

As it got darker, the walk was loaded with the faintly-remembered atmosphere of hill-stations visited during childhood. Trees loomed over us on both sides of the road, not fully visible due to the mist, just a darker shadow against the grey misty night; street-lamps were a circle of yellow light diffusing through the halo of fog around them; the light filtering out through chinks in window-curtains all but reminding us to scurry home quickly lest we get lost and Mummy is unable to find us ever again.

The walk reassured us that the decision to come to Panchgani had not been wrong and this was a great place for a short weekend away from Mumbai – easily accessible, yet not too crowded, and really green, with just the right amount of activity for a peaceful indulgent escape. We resolved to fully explore the place the next day.

By,
Zen