In less than half an hour, we left Bhaktapur also, a very crowded city, and the bus was crawling smoothly ahead. Both of my friends were busy gazing at the girls who were wearing flimsy and sequined dresses but were looking beautiful and attractive apart from the appearance. They were sitting just next to our seats in the second row and were looking at us and chuckling.
The sunny weather had turned cold, and it was looking so beautiful that I could not prevent myself from murmuring songs. I slid the window pane fully as I eagerly wanted to look outside and noticed splendid weather, however, I guessed the weather would soon be going to shiver us.
Meanwhile, I noticed the beautiful girl who was sitting in front of us. She had a stunning beauty with tall height, dressed in an attractive yellow and green mixed embroidered kurta-salwar (suit). She had got a fair, smooth, and good-looking oval face with a pointed nose, looked like a delicate bud just now stretched its arms and bloomed widely, light blue exhilarating eyes, looked as thousands of divers wanted to sink into its deepness, and black and brownish colour mixed long thick hair that shone brighter than the sun. When she would twitch her hair that caught everyone's attention rigorously, soft pink lips looked as though anything could be burnt down on the spot if she would touch with her lips, cute smile was enough to kill the vagabond lovers, a perfect curvy body structure, on which I guessed, she had sprayed an expensive perfume whose pleasant and unfamiliar fragrance was pouring out in the bus and entering into our nostrils.
She had got such a naturally gorgeous appearance with a pleasing speaking tone when she would articulate any word that sounded as if she was appreciating the entire world with her melodies like a nightingale.
She looked like a mature girl of about twenty-five and might belong to a wealthy middle-class family.
She seemed as if she worked in a prominent news agency company and was on a break from her work and returning to her family.
She was a completely packaged girl who looked so appealing with whom I could spend my entire life just watching her face and wanted to sink deeply into her beauty.
In a second, I scanned her from top to bottom as I was going to paint her on a canvas and exhibit it in an art gallery just to look at it all the time.
Almost all the boys in the bus were staring at her adamantly. My two notorious besties also were not failing to take her a look. Most tall and beautiful modern girls are arrogant, but I found her to be an innocent and shy-natured girl.
She used to speak less even with her friends but would smile attractively most often.
I found that she also looked at me time and again when I turned to my friends to talk or when I looked out of the window. Though I got busy talking to my friends or looking outside, I also did not miss any chance to take a look at her, but when I tried to look at her face, she jerked her hair and turned in front and pretended as if she was not trying to look at me. Sometimes our eyes contacted each other. When it happened, she had a wide grin on her face, and I also smiled.
Now I literally fell in love with her, but I was sure that she didn't have any positive feelings towards me as I guessed she might have certainly been engaged already with someone lucky.
I was thinking of her; she was either single or engaged. She was so beautiful that I assumed she certainly would have a boyfriend or fiance.
I wished that I would talk to her for at least some time if she would have been sitting next to me sharing the same seat.
Anyways, this was the first time ever when any journey came up with such an amazing feeling and happiness, and now with it, I was anticipating something good fortune to happen on a further journey.
In a blink of a moment, we reached Banepa, a contaminated place where all dirt and dust was airing. Black smoke produced by big vehicles blocked our vision, and it was exceeding the amount of contamination in the city. For a while, we were stuck in the traffic, for I was thinking of when the bus would leave such a stuffy and contaminated area. By the time, Jeetu stood with his camera and snapped the first photo of the journey, which was followed by some other subsequent snaps that might also have half covered the passengers of the bus.
The bus drove smoothly ahead to the east side and abandoned the noisy city behind. We were far away from the noise and pollution of the city. Leaving the hustling and bustling city behind, our eyes had started to catch some glimpses of smaller hills, and the mind had become cool because the weather usually gets colder after passing Banepa area. We soon were going to be lost in the tranquility of the beautiful hills which I was in much need of for a long time.
The bus was moving along Arniko highway with all fun and noise, and sometimes it seemed as if it was going to fly because of bumpy roads.
"Guruji, how much time does it take to reach Chautara?" Som questioned restlessly.
Before the driver replied, somebody behind our seats who was an old man and knew a little English, spoke, "Bhai, it will take around three and half hours. We'll reach around three."
"Thank you sir!", Som said.
"Are you three going to visit Chautara?" he asked.
"Yes! But we'll go to Panch Pokhari also the next day," I replied.
"Humm! I guess you three are going for long Spring holidays, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes sir," We replied in unison.
The man looked so gentle and amiable and continued chatting with us. I noticed that he liked to talk and chat with strangers or fellow passengers willingly. That of his habit manifested that he was a really good human.
"Panch Pokhari is a very beautiful place for visiting and spending holidays," he added.
"Timro gaun ghar kata paryo, babu- Where is your village?" He spoke in Nepali this time.
"Palpa district, sir!"
"Oh! You're Palpali. And, you live in Kathmandu."
"Yes sir,"
He asked us about our origins and talked about his village and his family. He was from the same village Chautara and lived a little uphill from the Chautara bazaar. He flowed some essential information about the village which had been very important to us to explore the place.
"Chautara is a beautiful place, blessed with natural settings and well known for exotic natural beauty. The flowing and rumbling sound of streams and waterfalls will mesmerize you. It has got several luxurious homestays and resorts where you can enjoy paragliding, rafting, hiking and so many other things"
The man had described the place so meticulously that made me think that he used to work like a guide earlier.
"Where do we take lunch and what time?" Som asked to the driver.
"We'll take it at Sangachok," he replied. "We may take at about half past twelve."
"Bro! Have patience until twelve,"
"Okies!" Som said.
Now we were revising our schedules and discussing among us where to stay and where to go after Chautara and Panch Pokhari as we'd been planning some more places to explore. I frequently talked about my book as well which I planned to write about our whole journey and already drew a draft for it, but I was a little desperate to end it because book writing could be a really arduous job since it was my first attempt. Hearing my words, some people from the back seats, including some girls, laughed at this as It. They thought that it was a bad joke or I boasted. But this did not bother me. One of the old men from the back seat encouraged me and said, "Chhora, timi kitaab lekhna gai raheka chhau? Yo ramro kura ho. Afule aanteko kaam lai pura garna ko prayas garnu parchha."
"Hajur buba, thanks! ma lekhne chhu," I replied.
Hearing my words, she looked at me with a sweet smile. Once again our eyes contacted each other, and this time I kept gazing at her until she had turned her head to the other side.
The driver was driving with all pride, happiness, and feelings upon the loud music that was coming out from the speaker. With the loud music and speed of the bus, it was getting even noisier and swerving on the bumpy road like it was dancing crazily. The passengers were chattering like a flight of sparrows, some were singing with the loud music of the speaker, some were drowsing due to dizziness, some especially, girls were busy eating food stuff, and some were busy talking on the phones perhaps with their friends or relatives, but the driver was rapt on changing songs like a DJ of the discotheque until he found the best song and was sailing the bus towards its destination simultaneously.
The bus abandoned Panchkhal and we soon were going to reach Dolalghat within a few minutes.
It was midday, and it struck nearly twelve, and the weather had been cool. We showed up at a beautiful place called Dolalghat- a place with a quiet and peaceful river flowing between two peaks. The Sunkoshi river which is the biggest part of the Saptakoshi originates from the Himalayan ranges of Tibet and flows from the east part of Dolalghat. The place is often considered as a picnic and shooting spot and offers the visitors magnificent views of snow capped mountains at the back while the front is adorned with smaller hills. The river and the wide shore on one side of it allow the visitors to relax and enjoy its beauty and tranquility or play in the sand.
By the edge of the river, some boatmen and fishermen were keeping their boats ready to sail them in the river so as to go for their business purposes while a half dozen semi- naked and carefree local children were screeching and splashing water at each other and some others who were at a far distance, were playing with hard and smooth pebbles, rubbing them upon each other and throwing into the river like we used to do when we were small.
That scene made me nostalgic and reminded me of when I used to study in primary level and play like this with classmates on the edge of the stream near the school at the time of lunch breaks. I had stored all those moments in my mind and still cherished them since childhood life is the best moments of one's life.
For me, even this place had been very special since I'd never been to this place before and had not witnessed such a beauty of the flowing river in the country. The sound of running water in the river was truly enticing and relaxing that wad forcing me to get out of the bus and stay for some time but could not do so as the bus was going to leave the place soon. This place might not be exciting for other travellers because they usually did regular up and down via this way.
The bus drove through the bridge to the north side for about twenty more minutes, and we arrived at Sangachok.
It was full of small and big hotels and restaurants, vegetable and fruit shops, grocery stores, and others.
The driver stopped the bus near a small hotel 'Hajur ko mitho khaja ghar'. I was astonished by the name, seeing on the long and old strip hoarding and reading it out as it looked so funny. Anyways, it was a big and popular one where many visitors were entering for lunch.
"We take lunch here," he announced, "And, do whatever you want within half an hour, after, we leave the place,"
He drew the line of restricted time like a match referee.
There were many other hotels and restaurants nearby but we also preferred the same hotel, following the driver and other passengers.
It was full of people with a roaring noise like an auditorium hall. We caught comfortable chairs and a table near the driver and the conductor.
We had been fiercely hungry and could wait no longer for food, but I felt too thirsty as well and first wanted to quench my thirst with water. I gulped almost half of a full jug and then passed it to Som.
Som and Jeetu also looked so thirsty and finished all the water of the jug, drinking one after another.
A man of about 35, who was short in height, came to us and asked, "What will you take for lunch, sir?"
"Three veg lunch," I replied.
We waited for our food. Until our food arrived, we glanced over the people in the crowd. In the meantime, a man next to our table, was feeding his daughter with his hand with all love and care. She was a small and cute child aged about 5 years, but I couldn't see her mother near her. She might have lived far away from them and they two were going to see her. I turned my head to the other side and saw a lady eating so hurriedly, two morsels at a time as she seemed to be very hungry or she was going to miss her bus.
After some minutes, a small boy came with three steel thalis of food, placed them gently on the table that contained items- a heap of rice, fried dal in a bowl, my favourite aloo cauliflower, some pickles, curry including salads. We did not take much time to finish food and got up in a few minutes. It's because firstly, we were so hungry and secondly, the sweet taste of the food had increased our hunger level even more.
This time, Jeetu paid for the bill.
The driver and his helper were still enjoying their food and chewing meat. It might be mutton this time. On another hand, some passengers also were still eating, and some had already finished their lunch and were waiting for the driver outside the hotel, who was now about to finish his food, sucking his fingers as he got some bits of spices around them and licking the thali as I thought he found the meat so scrumptious. He looked hungrier than us and it seemed his stomach was not full and wanted to ask for some more.
But he rose up, finishing his food followed by his helper. The time limitation was fixed by him, got over, and everyone was ready to get into the bus. Some of them were already in and were oozing out on their seats.
I was not seeing Jeetu anywhere, so I turned my head around to look for him. Suddenly I found him standing alone by the edge of the road, enjoying some puffs of cigarettes instead of clicking photographs with his camera which was still hanging on his neck. By the time I looked at the sky, the cloud was going to be dark and smoky as it seemed that rainfall would occur soon.
On the other hand, the driver also unwrapped the thick packet of cigarettes, took one himself and passed one piece to his helper. The driver lit it with his own lighter, which was carried by him and also helped his helper to light his properly. Now both of them were enjoying themselves, inhaling puffs of cigarettes, talking to each other about food, not caring of the weather as it would be going to trouble us a little.
The driver and his helper also were aware of it that it was going to rain within a while, but they did not care and just waited until they finished their cigarettes.
"Guruji, malai lagchha aba hidne bela bhai sakeko chha- I think it's been time to move,"one of the passengers said.
"Hajur! Pakkai pani! Mero churot ko antim sarko na siddinjel please kurnu hola- Yes, sure! Please wait until I finish the last puff of my cigarette," he said, ignoring the man's worries. "Na attinu- Don't worry!"
'Humm" the passenger muttered.
''Yahan bata Chautara aba tees km matrai ho ra hami aba ek ghanta bhitra ma tyo thau pugne chhau- Now Chautara is about 30 km from here, and we will reach the place within an hour," he added.
The driver and his helper also were aware of it that it was going to rain within a while, but they did not care and waited until they finished their cigarettes.
Finally he threw the last remaining filter portion of the cigarette away and frantically moved to his seat.
He pressed the starter of the bus and engine started to give off nasty smokes.
"Sabai jana gadi ma chadnu hola- Everyone, please get in the bus," shouted the conductor.
The people, whoever were here and there, hurriedly rushed back to the bus, hearing his voice.
As soon as he started to count the number of passengers, someone from the back seat yelled, "Guruji, pakhnus! ebta yatru aauna baaki xa- One passenger is yet to come."
"Ko ho tyo manchhe- Who is that person?" the driver asked.
"Uha ebta budho mancche hununchha, waha ma sanga nai ebtai seat ma basnu bha thiyo- He is an old man who was sitting with me on the same seat," the man replied.
He was the same old man who was sitting in the back seat, talking to us and delivering essential information about places.
The driver decided to wait for his arrival for some moments.
All passengers were anxious about their destinations rather than about that poor man. Now some of them had been restless as they were being too late to reach their destination before dusk. The time passed and about half an hour was gone, but he still did not come back. We got to know that he was travelling alone back to his village from Kathmandu.
He left his bag on his seat but did not inform anyone of us for a late arrival.
"Uha ahile samma aai pugnu bhayena, hamile uha lai aba chhodera hidnu parchha- He still hasn't arrived. We should leave him now," the conductor said.
"Hudaina, hamile uha sanga ra aru kasai sanga pani esto garna sakdai nau, hamile uha lai ajhai kurnu nai parchha- No! We can't do that with him nor with anyone else, we must wait for him for some more time," one of the women from the back seat uttered angrily.
"Tara, hamile kati ber samma kurna sakchhau, tapai sabai lai dheelo bhai raheko chha- But, how long can we wait for him? You all are getting late," he remarked.
"Where has he gone?" "Where has he gone without letting anyone know?" I muttered.
We were having conversation about the man and a small dispute among us cultivated whether we had to wait for the man or not, but we just waited and waited restlessly for him.
After more than half an hour late, we saw the old man walking back, murmuring to himself, looking as though he was drunk fiercely.
Yes, my guess was right, when he came nearer, he gave off nasty smell of local wine. He was fully drunk, he might have forgotten himself in the hotel to enjoy some drinks. We, especially I was shocked to know as could not imagine that time by his appearance and soft-tongued words that he was a complete hell drunkard.
"Thank god! at least he came back," I said.
"Buwa, kata haraunu bhako thiyo? Hajurko kaaran le garda hami sabailai dheelo bhako chha- Buwa where were you lost? We all have been late because of you," the driver said angrily.
Following the driver, others also rebuked him badly for his negligence like parents do with their small child, but nobody cared about his age.
"Sorry! ma chhama chahanchhu- I beg a pardon," the man murmured, "Dhanyawad! Malai kuri dinu bhako ma- Thank you for waiting for me!"
"Thik chha! Tara hajur le dherai raksi khanu hudaina- Alright! But you should not drink much wine," driver said, "Tapaiko ko family ma kasaile esto na garna ko laagi bhandaina- Nobody in your family asks you not to do so?"
"Sabaile bhanchan, tara- Evrybody says, but .....," murmured the old man.
Everyone just listened to his words and fell silent later.
The bus again drove on its way after more than half an hour late and left Sangachok. We were now 30 km away from reaching Chautara.