The 2160 kms road trip to Gujarat - A journey of self discovery and spiritual enlightenment

The Road trip – 2160 kms in Gujarat over 5 days – Transformative experience

Cities covered:

 Thane – Rajkot – Nageshwar – Bet Dwarka – Dwarkadish – Somnath – Diu – Vadodara – Thane

It had been a long while since I went for a road trip and a vacation. Busy with a 10 month long mega technology transformation program that chewed away even the weekends and holidays, as we got closer to the go live date. Go-Live date happened smoothly beyond expectations, and the stabilization phase was going through with minimal disruptions.

It was time for the-holiday. With war clouds on the horizon, travel to anywhere in the Middle East for a short holiday was out of question.

The theme was to reach all the four corners of India before exploring other parts of the world. 2023-24 we were at Kanyakumari, 2024-25 we were at Kashmir. 2025-26 was the time for the West end of India.

The spiritual quests need to be quenched first. Time to visit the two jyotirlinga and the shaktipeet in the western India.

The planning for the trip started. The logistics are far easier when two like-minded wanderlust couple do the planning.

Did I say road trip? Yes.

1.  Car was serviced – Tata Nexon (Fearless Petrol DCA variant) completed 2 years, and the annual mega service was done in early Feb – oil change, air filter, AC servicing, spark plugs replacement. All done. 

2.Tyre rotation, wheel alignment and balancing done.

3.Car sunshades (winter was over and the sun was getting brighter) and neck pillows were bought from Amazon.

4.Car tyre inflator was charged fully. Even offline Google maps were downloaded in both of our mobiles. Redundancy!

N Now comes the route planning.

Shall I trave via ferry from Bharuch to Somnath first, then go to Dwarka and come back to Thane via Rajkot? Or do the opposite? Can I extend it to Pavagarh (shaktipeet) from Vadodara, Statue of Unity, blend in some watersports (scuba et al). Explored air, train, hybrid transport and finally settled for a 100% road trip.

Few ground rules were set.

1.      Wont drive for over 12 hours on any day. Taper off the driving distance with every day of holiday, so that the fatigue does not build up

2.      Strictly no/less night driving

3.      Stop wherever you please – bio breaks, food, refreshments. Explore places of interest nearby

4.      Emphasis on comfort than cost

5.      Wanderlust traveller mindset on a 4-wheeler.

Leaves applied and approved. Budgeting done. Hotels were booked. Packing done. Wifey packs like a Gujarati when traveling to Gujarat. Enough knickknacks to feed a small army.

Day 1: 26^th February 2026 – 6.30am - Hit the road from Thane to Rajkot (657kms  - 11 hr drive).

The skies were still dark. The holiday spirits were burning bright. Within 15 minutes of the start, we encountered a terrific traffic jam in Ghodbunder road. Took 30 minutes to get it cleared. By then sun was up.

Crossed Fountain and took the northward road to Gujarat. I was doing a lot of weaving through the heavy truck traffic all the way till Vapi. Entered Gujarat at Bhilad.

The concrete roads were bumpy. Not a pleasure to drive. The concrete roads had eroded at few places, prematurely. Could see evidently cost cutting in building the highway. Will it last 5 years?

After 2 hours and 30 minutes of driving, stopped for a breakfast at a traditional Jalaram Kathiyawadi hotel.

Filled the tank at Gujarat at a Jio-BP outlet. Jio-BP is running a Rs.2 discount for petrol between 10am to 5pm. Petrol at Rs.92 something is wow! Almost the same cost of diesel in Mumbai.

The expressway NE4 is a delight to drive. Wherever there is asphalt the roads are smooth. Concrete surfaces are the bumpy ones.

Lunch was at another hotel Giriraj Kathiyawadi restaurant near Anand. Recommended by Google Maps baba. Good, sumptuous food.

Took the left turn to Rajkot and we could see the traffic thinning superfast. The roads in Gujarat were super smooth unlike the Maharashtra sector, which were bumpy and uneven surface. Speed increased to 100kph from 80 something in NE4.

Topped up the fuel once again at Vadodara border. The real tank to tank mileage had been 17.1kmpl. Reached hotel in Rajkot by 5.45pm.

Even though the hotel was in the prime part of the town, there was nothing outstanding about it. Hotel Evergrand Palae was a never grand place! Went out to eat some street food basis my Rajkot native colleague’s recommendation. It was good, but we were not in a condition to enjoy them fully. 

We were so tired on the first day of the trip, we went to sleep superfast after dinner. 

Day 2: 27^th February 10am – Rajkot to Nageshwar, Bet Dwarka (227kms – 4h 30min; but it took 6 hours)

Up to Jamnagar the traffic was smoother. Thereafter there was massive congestion of pilgrims walking towards Dwarka.

Chaos, and the surrender

Pilgrims were choking the road – men, women, children, elders all dancing, blaring loudspeakers of bhajans, from their accompanying Boleros, traffic blocked every 100m.

Pilgrims’ vehicles were parked on the left lane – offering water, refreshments, food, leaving just a single lane for the rest of the traffic to flow. Traffic was indeed crawling for km after km. Utter chaos! 

Google maps said, there is a 55-minute congestion until Nageshwar.

On a hot noon time, this was causing lot of irritation and bad mood. No one cares for honks. Find a gap, zoom past, right or left. Does not matter. It was stressful indeed. Who on earth thought of half of Gujarat walking their way to Dwarka for Holi? 

In the turbulence of mind, a sudden Aha! moment occurred. If so many people, of faith, were traveling by foot in a hot day, without complaints, with total surrender, here is you, YOU, whining and complaining in the cool AC comfort of your car! 

Who has better devotion – you or them?  There are Muslim brothers fasting in the holy month of Ramzan. What sacrifice are you making for yourselves? Is my feelings worth it? Were not I superficial and shallow?

The Aha moment vaporized the irritation. The ego melted away making the heart surrender to the devotion of Krishna. The mindset shift helped me keep a cool, calm and equanimous composure for the rest of the journey.

Detour

Google suggested to go through Dwarka through a detour of 20-30 kms. The coastal road from Dwarka to Bet Dwarka was practically empty and scenic too. Beautiful smooth road where one can do 100kph easily.

Had great darshan at Nageshwar – the first Jyotirling in our journey.

After Nageshwar we went to Bet Dwarka, which was an island.  Now there is a beautiful bridge connecting the island with the main land.

Since there were lakhs of pilgrims expected to the town, all the touristy places were closed. Took darshan of Bet Dwarka temple and scooted to Dwarka city for our hotel.The roads were blocked for the pilgrims, and it took a while to reach the hotel. We lost our way in the small bye lanes of Dwarka.  The hotel sent someone in a e-rickshaw to pilot us back to the hotel. The Grand Dwarika hotel, right on the banks of Gomti river, very near the Triveni Sangam is recommended for stay. Very courteous staff.

As soon as we reached the hotel, we refreshed ourselves and got into the line for the darshan of the Lord.

Krishna indeed does his magic in his kingdom, and he energized both of us. The travel tiredness just vaporized. We also learnt we had the darshan on an Ekadashi day.

1. Like Thaipoosam at Palani, Pournami girivalam at Arunachala lakhs of devotees travel to Dwarka around Holi by foot. Never knew it earlier.

2. Men, women, children, elderly - all walk singing songs and bhajans unmindful of the sun (temperature around midday was 28 C and a hot bright sun)

3.  For the padyatri (pilgrims on foot) there are a whole bunch of volunteers who provide water, refreshments, food, tents to rest, including mattresses) all along the highway at every kilometre. There were not many trees to give shade along the highway. We were witnessing this, in not just 10-15 kms but the major part of the 130kms journey between Jamnagar and Nageshwar. Must have crossed several lakh pilgrims on foot.

4. There were no Government signages (including Modi's), or any visible Government support for this. All services done by seva organizations, mitra mandals in a self-regulated way. Society was designed and aligned for this.

5.  No movie songs converted to Bhakti songs were played. All were original folk songs. Some sounded like the traditional Garbha renditions during Navratri.

6. No movie poster anywhere in Gujarat. 

7. The temples in Dwarka, Somnath have no ticketing system for entry. Or Government selling tickets and pocketing revenue. Everyone gets in the same queue.

8. No one jumps queue or fights their way for darshan. Short cut entries were minimal.

9. Even the cops doing the security duty, crowd control were kind, smiling and helpful.

10. Food was abundant (almost everywhere unlimited food) and inexpensive.

That brings the moot point. When a system works without rules, laws and in a self-regulated way, it is the culture of the place and the population, that binds it all together. 

Swadharma is always > BNS

Day 3: Dwarka to Somnath (235 kms – 4 hours drive)

The next day after breakfast, we decided to leave as lakhs of pilgrims were reaching Dwarka for Holi. After some initial crawl navigating pilgrims on foot, we reached the highway that takes us to Somnath.

Scenic empty stretch of very good road – Arabian sea on the right, windmills on the left it was a flowing landscape. A delight to drive.

During the drive, took a detour for Jambavan caves – a natural limestone cave with religious significance. A must visit place.

Reached Somnath by lunch time.

Stayed in Hotel Aditya Man Singh about 1.5 kms from the temple. Recommended place to stay. Food is expensive though.

Took a rickshaw on hire to see all the places of importance (costs Rs.800 to cover most of the points)

After visiting all the places – Krishna was injured by a hunter at Bhalka Tirth), Triveni Sangam, the Chandrabhaga devi shakti sthal and few others.

Reached Somnath temple around 7pm. It took a while to get the lockers to deposit bags, mobile phones, smart watch and remote keys.

Reached the temple just in time after the arti (we could hear the arti being performed while we were just outside the main temple precincts)

Excellent darshan of Lord Somnath in his beautiful temple abode.  We could not get the ticket for the laser show as there was a lot of wait time.

Day 4: Somnath to Vadodara (473 kms – 8 hours 30 minutes)

Day 4 we went to the temple early in the morning – it was not at all crowded and we could have multiple rounds of darshan of Lord Somnath as well.

After breakfast we departed to Vadodara.  Another 8 hours of smooth drive along the coastal road from Somnath with a short detour to Diu - a small union territory.

Thought it will be vibrant like Pondicherry or Goa, but it was no where near so. Went to Pandava Gufa, right on the banks of Arabian sea. Ideally the shivlings supposed installed by Pandavas during their 14-year exile period, are submerged in the sea water. Due to low tide, the sea had receded quite a bit.

The landscape after crossing Bhavnagar became flat lands, devoid of trees and the road was arrow straight for kilometers together. However, I was not in a mood to drive hard.

By evening we reached Vadodara. Stayed in Hotel Effotel by Sayaji, a nice hotel. Recommending this too.

Went for some shopping in Raopura road. What is a road trip without some shopping for the best half who has put up with the monotony of the road trip?

Day 5: Vadodara to Thane (385kms – 6 hours)

After a heavy breakfast, departed Vadodara at 1030 hours expecting traffic in the notorious Ahmedabad – Mumbai national highway. What can be a 6-hour drive, can become a 9-hour drive as well, depending on traffic conditions just outside of Mumbai.

Speed set to 110kph in cruise control in the NE4 stretch. However, NE4 on the return leg, felt bumpier. The sweet spot for this road for a Nexon is somewhere 85-90kph in this stretch, despite the tyres filled with Nitrogen.

Topped up the tank right outside of Gujarat border (petrol is damn expensive in Maharashtra. The three-digit figures are psychological mind block)

Had lunch between Virar and Vasai and the day had been hot – 36 deg Celsius.

Finally reached home at 4.30pm ending the 2160kms road trip. I must compliment Tata Nexon for making a gem of a car.

1.  Rides well. Suspension and vehicle dynamics are fantastic. It is a highway mile muncher.

2.   Holds composure even in bumpy roads and potholed roads with aplomb.

3.   The 7 speed DCA is a breeze in stop and go traffic too.

4.   Engine has enough grunt to drive in 3 digit speeds all day. The engine is at 1700rpm at 80kmph in the 7^th gear and barely cross 2200 rpm at 110kph.

5.   While the road speed limit is 120kph, I was not going beyond 110kph for two reasons:

a.      The road is damn too bumpy in the MH sector when compared to GJ sector

b.     The incessant beeps on reaching 118kph is a nuisance.

6TThe best mileage (tank to tank) I ever got was 18.1kmpl when driven at 80-85kph in the Somnath – Vadodara sector and in the Rajkot to Jamnagar stretch.

7.  When pushed beyond 100kph to 110kph the mileage drops to 16.6kmpl. (tank to tank filling before and after a NE4 run)

8.   Most of the ride was in cruise control on NE4 highways. The cruise control downs a notch and accelerates much harder than my style of driving.

9.   The overall 2160km drive had a MID mileage of 18.9kmpl. In real world it could have been 17 -18 kmpl easily.

OK. What changed during/after the trip?

During very long drives, the body runs the car. The mind freezes on its own and reboots itself at some point in the drive.

You are in the Now without any thought. Just being one with the car, everything, everyone around. Alert yet restful.

Wifey complained that I was in some dazed state. Not talking, not listening. Just be!

And a spiritual tour to holy places comes with its own energy changes. Stresses and complaints of daily life vaporize to nothingness. The mind stops chattering and at some point, it stops and goes through a reboot.

Fresh perspectives emerge for the same daily situations. Gaps emerge between thoughts and response.

Flow state is restored. Mind aligns to the natural rhythm of Life. Peace!

Soma (moon) controls mind. Somnath brings in peace of mind never experienced before.

The deities reveal themselves at those holy spaces. Surrender, gratitude, magnanimity, thankfulness to the grandeur of life that has been given. That shall be given.  For this body, the earlier bodies – ancestors, family members, protector angels and everyone.

No complaints or prayers asking this and that. Just be.

I had to lose myself, to find my new self.

End old stories to rewrite new chapters from fresh new pages.

The smartwatch reported deep sleep of 2 hour plus (never had this much deep sleep before), and sleep was sound, as the body was tired. However, I was not oversleeping on any day, as the mind was fresh, with less thoughts to drain it.

Refreshing the mind when the body is tired is quite paradoxical, is it not?

Prelude – To the book “The road more travelled”

The roads are eternally waiting with some lessons. 

Only for those travellers who have the curiosity, courage, initiative and the drive. 

Travelers come and go, all the time. 

Trading distance for memories, relationships, lessons of life. 

I will not be able to see the whole road until my destination. The vision stops at the horizon, at a distance. 

What lays beyond is I won't know. 

I need to travel only to the distance what I can see. On reaching the point what I saw earlier as the horizon, the road opens up some more. Another set of  new experiences until the next horizon. And it keeps doing, until I stop or the road ends.

Does not matter, wherever the road takes you, keep walking.

 

Aa!

 My day did not start well. There was some trouble in the stomach. It was nauseous and I felt like throwing up. There was excessive saliva and dehydration too. 

Was it the biryani packet I rummaged late last night? Or the junk food I keep eating all the time, when anyone offers to me. How many times do I regret eating food, I am not supposed to eat and suffer later?  There was comfort food. And food that gave comfort. I keep eating all the time. Or was it my periods?

I was slowly dragging myself to see if I can meet Echumi akka in the next street. 

She was my best pal, ever since I moved in here. She was beautiful with big black eyes and she had lots of neighbourhood youngsters trying to catch her attention. Some were trying to get close to her also. She never used to mind their advances. She was kind, soft in heart and if things were about to go out of hand, she used to take help from her other elder sisters. Her elder sisters supported Echumi and put the other adolescent youngsters in their place.

Her elder sisters were worldly wise, but were always tired and busy running behind their kids. They keep lamenting "what sins did I commit in the past, to be born with these rakshas people?" Echumi used to say their elder sisters looked very beautiful when they were her age.

However, time has ravaged her elder sisters. They looked malnourished, uncared for, by their family. The stress to survive through each and every day has taken a toll on their body and mind.

One look at them, anyone can see that they were sleep starved and totally fatigued out.

"BAAAAM"

A scoundrel on a two-wheeler was scaring my wits, with his loud horn. I was furious. We were eyeballing each other for a while. He would have been burnt if I had the powers. 

The loud horn's noise made my stomach rumble even more and it made me even more anxious. I felt like I will shit then and there. An old lady pacified both of us and I dragged myself to Echumi s place.

Echumi had an injury in her leg. There were flies who were trying to lick the blood, caked on her leg. I felt even more sicker seeing her injury. 

She did not answer how she got hurt. She just mumbled, some rash driver hit a hit-and-run on her last night. Poor girl. I was about to cry.

She was asking feebly "what brings you here?"

Told her my symptoms from the morning and I told her it is getting worser and worser every moment. I started to cry.

Echumi was nonchalant. Her eyes were sorrowful and she gave a 1000 yard stare.

Least expected of her. I expected her to come close and comfort me. She did not even move! May be her injury?

She drew a long breath and sighed. What she asked, shook me to the core!

Did you sleep with anyone, recently?

I was aghast. I said "No di. I think this could be some bad food, I ate. You know I keep eating...whatever Murugan brings from his home."

Her eyes went wide.

She interrupted. Her voice rose. Her voice was quivering.

"I told you so many times, to avoid the company of Murugan. Did he touch your private parts?"

I was trying to think hard. In fact, he did three weeks back. We were close. His hands were all over me. He rubbed... it felt good too... and the pain.. did not expect that.. that too, from him..

I was reliving my experience, and lost in thoughts.

I hesitantly said "yes". But, I did not understand what was wrong with what Murugan did, and why she was asking this.

She screamed her lungs out.. "I KNEW"

Her eyes filled up immediately. She came close, put her forehead on my shoulder and said this crying softly.

"You are too young to understand the ways of these people dear. Murugan has inseminated you. You will soon get a calf. Every single day you will be milked dry even while your calf cries hungry. Whenver your milk production goes down, you will be made pregnant again. Again and again.. The day you fall sick and stop producing milk, you will be sold to slaughter. My sisters are already going through this. I have just started. You have also joined this vicious cycle now" 

I was too shocked and numb. 

In a temple nearby, a preacher was extolling the virtues of Gau matha. Obviously, I did not understand.  

After all, I am a street cow in Chromepet. 

ரொம்பத்தான் யோசிக்கிறேன்?

 அயல் தேசத்து Senior citizen நண்பர் ஒருவர்.

 எனது கை பேசி directory இல் சேமிக்கப்பட்டு உள்ளார். இந்தியா வரும் போது சந்திதுள்ளோம்.

ஆனால், தொடர்பு கொண்டு பல வருடம் ஆயிற்று. 

திடீர் என ரக ரக மாய் WhatsApp ஸ்டேட்டஸ் மெசேஜ் கள். எதிலும் அவர் படமோ, வேறு புகைப்படங்கள் எதுவும்  இல்லை. போஸ்ட் கள் வைத்துப் பார்க்கும் போது 

வயது இருபதுக்கும் கீழ் இருக்கலாம். பெண்.( I  appa , பூக்கள் என்று பல வித status messages.)

Message செய்பவர் அவருடைய குடும்பத்தினர் ஒருவரா? மகள் அல்லது பேத்தி மாதிரி?

அப்போ அவருக்கு என்ன ஆச்சு? நம்பர் மாற்றி விட்டாரோ? 

அல்லது.. அவருக்கு எதாச்சும் ஆயிற்றோ?.. ,

நம்பருக்கு டயல் செய்து கேட்கவும் தயக்கம். ஒரு வேளை கெட்ட செய்தி எதுவும் கேட்க நேர்ந்தால். 

(அது சரி. இன்னமும் டயல் என்று ஏன் சொல்கிறோம்? அந்த மாதிரி டயல் போன்கள் போன நூற்றாண்டின் இறுதியிலேயே காலாவதி ஆகிவிட்டதே.இன்னமும் டிஜிட்டல் யுகத்தில் போன நூற்றாண்டின் குறியீட்டு எச்சங்கள் , save கு floppy disk symbol போல)

ரொம்பத்தான் யோசிக்கிறேன்?

ஒரு வேளை அவருக்கு இளமை திரும்பி இருபதுக்கு போய் இருந்தால்?எதோ metaverse ஆமே? நமக்கு வேண்டிய உருவம், பால், இனம் என்று எப்படி வேணாலும் அந்த மெட்டா உலகத்தில் இருக்கலாமாம்.

அதுவும் whatsapp இல் தான் படிச்சேன்.

 திரிசங்கு சொர்க்கம் மாதிரி கற்பனை சக்தியின் எல்லையால் வடிவமைக்கப்பட்ட ஒரு மனோ தேசம். எனது கற்பனையும், உனது கற்பனையும், நமது கற்பனையும் சேர்ந்து சங்கமிக்கும் மனோ வெளி. 

மெலிதாக புன்னகைத்தேன். 

ஆமாம். ரொம்பத்தான் யோசிக்கிறேன்!

Survivors

Scene 1

It was early evening. Dark skies about to burst rain any time. He had the urge to reach to his home, before it started to rain. 

He was restless. Impatient and edgy.

The rocky knoll, where he was standing was still hot with the afternoon sun. He needed to reach the other side. The knoll had lots of thorny bushes and he must be watchful where he was setting his foot.

He heard some rustling sound. His sixth sense said, there is some danger nearby. The smell of the humid air, had a tinge of putrefying blood.  He could sense that the animal is going to charge towards him in the next one or two steps. The big dotted one!

He was getting angry. The animal was blocking his way to his home. He had lost few of his family members to the wild animals recently. Including his child born during last summer. He felt sad, as the memories flashed - of putting the remains of the child half eaten by the big dotted one, to rest.

The anger grew up to a full rage. His body tightened and the breathing became fast and heavy. His fist tightened to an iron grip. He could hear the growl and more rustling of leaves.

In a flash, the yellow colour of the big dotted one, leapt towards him from the high ground.

“Whack”

The club landed exactly on the side of the head of the big dotted one. The momentum of the leap along with the sudden hit, made the big dotted one to lose balance and fall with its face down on the rock. He ran behind, and landed another big blow, breaking the spine of the big dotted one. 

Big dotted one tried to fight back – clawing its paws in the air. He was determined. His rage was uncontrollable. He kept hitting until the growl turned to a whimper and ended with just spasms.

By the time he reached home, rain started to pour in thick and heavy.  He ran into his home and could see that his wife and kids were all cuddled together tight, sitting in the corner.

He could not see his other clan folks. His wife was relieved to see him and ran towards him, leaving the baby down. She must have also heard the growl. She saw the blood stains, some minor injuries and the frayed club.

She wanted to say something. But she could not.

He wanted to say something. But he could not.

Because language was not invented by then. The year was 10,000 BC. All they did was embrace each other.

Peace.

Scene 2

Rampal held his pike tight. Anxious, fearful. He was uttering a silent prayer and looked around. His cousin Kishan was also muttering something. Tried hard to hear what he was saying. It turned out to be a filthy curse.

Rampal could even smile, when the raiders can turn up any time.

The village elders had warned. Every fourth or fifth generation, it was repeating.  The wealth of the five rivers, created lot of animosity and jealousy with the desert dwellers. They rallied young clansmen, created an army and march towards the land of five rivers, to plunder. The promise of wealth, food and women never failed to turn on youngsters.

The raiders were relentless.

This time the villagers had advance information through the herdsmen. They could see the scouts of the desert dwellers hiding in a bush in the knoll. The herdsmen raised the alarm to the village elder, informing about the scouts in the hills trying to reconnaissance the village. 

If the scouts go back to the desert men across the river, then their army will certainly land in. Humiliation to their clan women, loss of relatives and friends. The village is as good as gone. The face of young Bano came to his mind.

The Village elder quickly raised a small group of men to deal with the desert army’s scouts and sent them to the hills with the instruction, Never let them escape.

 

The leader of the scout was not aware of the ambush in-waiting. He and his fellow men, scanned the perimeter and they crossed the small patch of open area in the hill, overlooking the village. They will camp tonight in the shades of the bushes, eating their last remnants of the goat meat and the flat bread they had packed with them two days back.

After a while...

 

The scout leader gave an expression of surprise when he saw Rampal. A fearful villager with wide eyes and open mouth. The villager was about to say something.

Rampal was equally surprised. The scout leader was well over 6 ½ feet, broadly built and tanned. If the scout party escapes, that is the end of his village. He had heard of scary stories from the village elder,who kept reminding him of the atrocities of the desert men.

The scout leader then, saw the pike in the villager’s hand. He was too close to the villager. He reached for his short dagger in his waist band.

No one spoke anything.

Rampal drove the pike straight to the heart of the scout leader and let out a war cry. Kishan and the other villagers joined in soon. The scout party did not anticipate the ambush. They could see their leader falling down in slow motion, hand still waving the dagger in the air.

They quickly went on high alert and started to engage the villagers. For the next few minutes – metals clanged, blood spurt out of wounds, verbal abuses thrown on each other and cries of pain were heard in a cacophony of languages.

Rampal’s hands were trembling. Everything happened around was so swift. He was not prepared for this. He never saw such a mayhem. 

He and another injured scout - The last men standing.

Rest of all the party had killed each other. Blood flowing down the rocks. Badly injured men slithering in their own fluids, mumbling and trembling. They wished they died sooner.

Rampal still had his pike in hand. The scout had a sword in his hand. Both men were trembling. Fear, rage, not sure.

The scout said something in his language that sounded like let me go. I will not harm you.

Rampal did not say anything. He was seeing deep into the dark eyes of the scout, anticipating his every move. Muscles tensed up. Few more minutes passed. The scout was also not lowering his sword. Stalemate.

Rampal wanted to puke. He was overwhelmingly emotional to see his friends dead and half dead. Kishan’s life was about to leave his body. In the middle of spasms, Kishan was asking for water feebly. All Rampal could do was cry.

The scout saw Rampal’s dilemma. But he was not sure, if he should lower guard.

For a moment, Rampal got distracted. The salt of his sweat got in to his eyes. He wanted to wipe.

The scout charged at Rampal with a battle cry, sword held at his hip level, forward.

How Rampal moved, he could not understand. The Kabaddi reflex he gained while playing with his dead friends?

He quickly moved away from the line of charge, swung his hip and shoved the pike towards the charging scout.

The scout lost balance, fell face forward cutting himself with his own sword across his stomach, in the melee.

What Rampal saw was, the scout on the ground, writhing and trying to get up. He lifted his pike and gripped it hard.The scout slowly turned around. He still had the sword in his hand. He was clutching something with his other hand.

Rampal was horrified. “I can not fight him if he has two swords.“ I have been barely trained few days back.

Then he saw. The scout holding his intestines that had popped out through the cut in the stomach. He was not bleeding much though. The scout was holding his stomach, either out of pain or  reflexively. The scout bent down and saw his own condition.

The scout waved his sword angrily. Muttered something in a different language, which Rampal presumed to be an abuse.

Rampal held his pike tight. Should I fight him or should I wait for the next move? 

Rampal felt nauseous. The earth was spinning around him.Rampal wanted to sit down and pee.

The scout tried to stand up, but the pain was coming in big waves. He remembered disemboweling few villagers earlier. Few of them had survived a day or two before dying finally, on their own. He did not want to die in pain like this. He did not recall any other injuries in his body. Can he reach to the horse tied up, down the hill on his own? The medic in the base camp, can probably stitch him up to survive another day.

He needs to put an end to this villager. He is the last man standing. The scout waved his sword to the villager.

The scout was injured but he did not seem to be affected much. Bloody desert warriors.

The scout yelled in his language – “Come fight like a man. You dirty @##$#$ @#%%el . I will @#$@ your family”

Rampal heard something like Bano , and the scout was showing action with his sword, what he will do with Bano.

Rampal was enraged. He charged forward.

The scout was expecting this. He raised his sword and swung hard.

 “Whack”

Rampal was lying on the ground. The blood was warm and gushing through the wounds and it was smelly. He remembered the face of Bano before passing out.

Bano’s face was up close. Rampal was looking to his right and left. Searching for the scout and his pike. It was his home in the village. Bano was wiping him with hot water “You are a hero now. The second team of villagers found you all. Only you had survived. The village elder is proud of his son in law”.

Rampal did not say anything.

She hugged him. He was aroused with the relief. The nameless, faceless genes of his ancestor in the Scene-1 woke up in Rampal’s body and smiled. 

Sambogh time.

Scene 3

His residence was on the hill top. Overlooking the Arabian Sea. The view of the glimmering sea was something, he always enjoyed, whenever he was stressed out with one or the other event. Those were the days.

Roy took his revolver. He had decided long back how to end this. Referred to Internet for the forensics report of US homicides. Plus his own police department files.

He knew the best position and the place to discharge his weapon. He set the safety catch off. Pulled the trigger. The angry hammer released with a pretty loud Click.

With a wry smile, satisfied with the dry run, he took the mobile phone camera, put it on video mode. Adjusted the camera angle and the settings.

He looked around. He saw all his awards, medals, family photograph. It meant nothing. Nothing!

The emptiness of his mind was eating him alive - day in and day out. His best days were behind him.

 

With the habits of an organized officer, leader of the Delivered his final speech towards the camera in short and crisp language, holding no one responsible for his death and thanking his doctors and his wife for fighting along with him.

While the camera was still running, loaded the revolver, without much thinking (what is there to think now?), took a deep breath, adjusted his back rest, sat deep in his chair, placed the revolver close to his face, and …

The barrel was cold. The AC was humming. The loud noise was what he heard last. A flash of light. 

Rampal and the unknown ancestor were nodding their head in disagreement, as their genes in Roy's blood was angrily bubbling out of the exit wound towards the carpeted floor.

They were saying in unison “tch.. tch.. Is this for what we survived all through? Fought all hardships that were thrown at us - war, famine, wild animals, disease in so many centuries? What you did was utterly wrong! Where did you lose your fighting spirit? You failed us! ”

Roy was looking at his ancestors nonchalantly with an expressionless face. Very dead.

Note

Inspired by Himanshu Roy. Om shanti.

Link below: 

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/mumbai/himanshu-roy-former-mumbai-top-cop-commits-suicide/articleshow/64122715.cms