Malana - Lost in Time

For a long time, I had planned to trek to this mysterious village, I’d read about in newspapers. Backpackers claim it to be the most amazing experience in their web logs. Trekking enthusiasts are equivocal that nothing invigorates their senses more than the site of this hamlet. I finally got the chance in July this year. My friend Patrick, a French citizen, was as anxious as a five year old on his first day at school. He was already bewildered by the variety and number of people he had seen in India. Now this mystical village was an ideal target of two adventure-hungry trekkers.

The Journey
We boarded a bus that would take us from Chandigarh to Bhuntar. This ten hour journey through the hills wasn’t quite comfortable. Patrick was in positive frame of mind. The humid heat and rickety bus could not dampen his spirits. The ten hour journey uphill surprisingly did not bring any relief from the heat. Contrary to our belief, Bhuntar turned out to be a big town with bustling market. We overlooked the fact, that it is the closest airport to Kullu. And Kullu is one of the largest districts of the state. Then, there was another winding ride of one hour to Jari. We had to start our trek from this village.
The Trek“Just a 7 km trek from Jari to Malana” we thought, only to discover the most grueling expedition waiting for us. The locals pointed towards a never-ending steep rocky trail as the path to Malana. We puffed, panted and almost fainted during our seven hour trek. Most amazingly, a gentle black colored dog started to give us company right at the start of the trek from the Jari Dam. He slept outside our room in Malana and also braved the crazy village dogs. All this left us baffled. I would often tease Patrick as the cartoon character “Shaggy” and now his “Scooby” seemed to have found him. Poor Patrick had a problem of vertigo. The gorges on our trail were intimidating enough to make a gorilla go weak in the knees. Even this couldn’t diminish Scooby’s camaraderie. Our heads were ringing with the lack of Oxygen, the eyes were popping with the breathtaking sceneries and the mind was cursing the decision to make this trek. We could understand why these people actually remained oblivious to the rest of the world.

The Destination – Malana and the Malanese
Imagine a village isolated from rest of the world. For centuries, this village named Malana, has been able to sustain a lifestyle that one can only find in the pages of a history book. The clock stopped ticking for these people centuries ago, when Alexander’s army was retreating from North India. Don’t be surprised if you see thatched roofs, water drawn with wooden buckets, people with brown eyes, fair skin and rough cotton clothes. The site will give an instant impression of a European village of middle- ages. Noted historians conclude that the residents of this village are descendants of the Greek army. If you scamper a few kilometers, in any direction, you would fail to find any similarity with these out-worldly people. The locals speak a language of their own. It’s a mixture of Tibetan and Sanskrit. It’s one reason why, the people from neighboring villages limit their social interaction. The Malanese, as they are called, follow a strict code of conduct. They neither interfere with the environment surrounding them, nor do they let anyone do so. A number of signs all over the village warn the visitors to not to touch any object. Children are shooed away from the tourists as if they carry a communicable disease. Be careful enough to follow only a few demarcated pathways, visitors are not allowed to venture everywhere. Sometimes the visitors are almost made to feel unwelcome. I wouldn’t blame the villagers for it. They have to be conservative and cold in order to preserve a legacy as old as India’s history.

Patrick was really excited about the “Igloo” tent he was carrying. He had got it all the way from France, just to be able to use it. He was all geared up to plant the tent again. This time at the edge of this mysterious village. It was humid to an extent that any breeze you felt on your face, seemed to stick to the skin. A warm shower seemed imminent. The trek had left every bone rattled in my body. Every joint creaked, every muscle screamed. I begged Pat to decide and stay in the cozy guest house. It wasn’t going to be easy. Finally, we decided to toss a coin. I won.
Cribbing and grumbling, Patrick moved our stuff in the cozy room, which had no furniture except for an almirah and a beautiful shade-lamp. We ate like wolves and slept reminiscing about our escapade. Thankfully, I was able to feel my legs and arms in the morning.

The Descent
The trek down wouldn’t have taken us more than 2 hours but for Pat’s vertigo. He was trembling, going weak in the knees. Now and then Scooby would try to lead us and cause much panic to Pat. “Chien!”, he would shout, kicking in the air. We were only too happy to have covered just half of the route in 3 hours. We had one one final meal at the edge of the Jari Dam Project. We summed up our experience basking in the glory to have become the member of the exclusive club of the trekkers. Patrick was feeling sad about parting from Scooby. He fed him generously and requested the local shopkeeper to feed the canine as and when he could.

Return to the Present
On our way back, we took a break of a couple of hours at Bhuntar. Had no idea that Mint tea and black coffee tastes so good. Inside the small cafe, were excited backpackers from all over. A 4 feet something, Japanese couple. A group of young tourists from Kilbut (Israel), in search of “Nirvana”. Germans and Belgians dressed as if they have a role to play in a movie on Asterix comics. We tried to our best to not to behave like a couple of Xenophobics. However, this daring trek had certainly lent an air of pride in our lives apart from many interesting stories to tell.
It’s so easy to turn on the television to see the world the way media wants us to see it. It’s so easy to form an opinion about life of people here. It does take some back-bending to actually “know” one’s own country. And more than that, if you want to know about the people as well. Ask Patrick.