Over the high pass

We were on the campaign trail with Haryana Vikas Party leader Sukh Ram in the depths of Shimla district. At 5 pm, when the morning's thun...

We were on the campaign trail with Haryana Vikas Party leader Sukh Ram in the depths of Shimla district. At 5 pm, when the morning8217;s thunderburst had mercifully abated, we decided to head back to Chandigarh. Helpful villagers informed us that there was this scenic short route from Ballag village to Solan which would help us save at least three hours. With visions of dinner and a bath at home after a bone-racking day, we turned on to it and started moving.

Fifteen minutes later on a kuchha road, we reached a terrible stretch of slush, resembling a melted bar of chocolate. Appearances in this case were not deceptive, for no sooner had the sturdy Ambassador driven over it that the wheels slipped; the car skidded violently and there was a loud snap as the axle broke. As we got out, our feet were sucked into the stick-jaw like mud.

And lo and behold, all that we could spy on the deserted mountain road was a tiny village 300 yards ahead. A village called Dibbar Dhali which didn8217;t have a single telephone, forgetabout an STD booth. Whatever happened to Sukh Ram8217;s proud claim of bringing the melodious ring of the telephone to every home in every village in Himachal? After a day spent listening to the revolution the quot;telephone Congressquot; had wrought in the state, this was an ironic brush with reality.

The villagers gave us all the bad news 8212; the nearest workshop was three hours away in Solan, the last bus out had left at 9 am, and there was nowhere to stay. The comforting sight of a lone tractor gave me some hope. An hour later we tracked down the driver who agreed to tow us 16 km to a place on the hill called Chadhol. There was a small resthouse there where we could spend the night. So far so good. In the pitch dark, we were slowly towed up a slippery, uneven mountain road 8212; a journey which took over an hour.

When we finally clambered out at Chadhol and walked towards the resthouse8217;s twinkling lights, we got another rude shock. It had only three rooms and, sorry, all of them were booked by Sukh Ram and party. Ifwe liked, we could seek the help of the junior engineer in his adjoining two-room cottage. After much imploring, this worthy agreed to give me a bed in one of his two rooms. Later he hospitably carried across food from the resthouse to feed us.

By then Sukh Ram and gang had arrived and settled into the resthouse. Soon afterwards, his band of hopelessly sozzled workers entered into a brawl with the drunken BJP workers who had come to greet them. Hearing the loud altercation replete with the filthiest abuses, one of the Haryana Police guards inside came out in civvies and attempted to intervene. A violent worker promptly hurled a stone at his head. Bleeding and enraged, the cop clobbered his assailant on the head with his rifle butt. At this, the crowd went berserk, throwing stones at the windows of the resthouse amid cries of quot;Sukh Ram, bahar niklo.quot; The leader eventually had to flee in a panic.

Locals informed me later that this was a very dangerous area. Illicit liquor is brewed in every home andthe menfolk are a dissolute lot who drink all day while their wives sweat it out in the fields. Drunken brawls are a common occurrence here, they complained 8212; particularly before elections. And this time tensions are running high between BJP and HVC workers as they have a consensus candidate. But these incidents hardly endear them to the locals. Or for that matter to weary journalists.

Thank God, tomorrow was another day.