Chapter 19
Addy the explorer
JIMMY
“Are we using books to exercise?” Aditya's shoulders droop with the weight of the bag.
“Here, let me help you.” I place the black-and-grey backpack on the gym's reception counter. Aditya's eyes widen as he pulls out one ragged old book. His fingers move on the cover in reverence.
He reads a few pages and stares at me. “Jimmy, where did you find this? Damn! The book is a 1952 edition of Jim Corbett's famous treatise on man-eaters in Kumaon. You can't find old editions except in some college archives.”
I preen under the admiration shining out of Aditya's eyes. “Brian says this would be a great read to identify possible leads. A few more British-era books are in the bag.” I point to the desk.
“Where did he find them?” He rushes to pull all the books from the bag.
“Brian inherited a small library when he bought the cafe. He has preserved the books.”
“Does he keep new books also?” Aditya flips through some books in better condition.
“Nah, those are from Bhatia ji. The resort also has a small collection.” I join him in arranging the books into the bag.
“Thanks so much. How do I even—” He stops mid-step on his way to kissing me when he realises where we are. He fumbles his way into hugging me. We step out of the gym, and Aditya backtracks into me. His head bumps into my nose.
“Ouch!” My eyes water and squeeze shut at the pain. When I open my eyes again, I understand the problem.
“Oh, Jimmy. Does the whole of Almora know about this?” Aditya panics at the sight of the group gathered outside the gym.
“Umm, I did not tell anyone.” I rub my neck, nervous about the gang waiting for us.
Addy looks at all the people gathered and crosses his arms.
“Okay, I may have mentioned our plan to Sahil while having breakfast last Wednesday at Brian's place.”
Addy continues to drum his fingers on his arms, so I continue my confession, “...And when I met Kiron for the fittings for my new dresses on Thursday, your name came up. I am not sure if I mentioned the expedition.” I turn to the five people surrounding us for protection.
He shakes his head in dismay.
Brian and Kenny, dressed in khaki shorts and white cotton shirts, look like the British explorers of yore with their bamboo wide-brim hats.
Sudhanshu and Kiron are wearing matching floral-print kurta shirts over white shorts.
Sudhanshu fidgets with his blue ball cap.
He warned us not to hound Aditya to take the group along.
Sahil stands by the Jeep, which is packed with backpacks filled with supplies.
Kiron adjusts their neon blue sunglasses before walking up to Aditya.
“Hi. I have news for you. We made a list of all those above seventy-five years in the locality.” They point to Sudhanshu, their accomplice, who sent out feelers to his local contacts.
“Then we spoke to them and filled out a form, so we have as much information on the local history as possible.
You know what they say, right from the horse's mouth.”
“We brought a map.” Kenny nudges Brian. He walks up, takes out a piece of paper from his bag, and shows it to Aditya.
“This is an old trail map of the region around Almora. I found the paper tucked in one of the books in our library. The cafe exchanged a few hands after the British family left in 1947, but everyone preserved the books after them.”
Aditya grabs the map like a candy stick and scrutinises it. He looks adorable with his focused eyes, peering at the yellowing paper from behind his glasses.
“I asked my grandfather if he recalled anything from his youth. Dada is ninety years old. He gave me a few leads for the treasure hunt,” Sahil butts in.
Oh, boy, the glare Aditya gives us all. I hide behind Sudhanshu. “This is not an expedition. We are not going on any treasure hunt. Historical discoveries are not made in a day. We will need to do a lot of studies and take many painstaking walks in the forests.” Aditya expresses his exasperation.
“Yay! He said ‘we.’” Kenny high-fives Sahil. Aditya slams his palm on his head.
“We can help you study the Anthropos.” Brian turns to the others, chest-puffed, using the technical term for some of the figures painted in the caves. We all had a hard time memorising some of those in our secret planning sessions.
“Yes,” all of us say in unison.
“Guys, what are antho-antho?” Sahil rubs his temple, trying to recall the lessons.
Aditya smiles. “Some cave painting sites have half-human forms. They are called Anthropos.”
“What would these forms represent?” Kiron latches onto the breach in Aditya's stern demeanour. Smarty-pants.
“Some consider the figures and expression of primitive man's longing to be as fast or strong as those beasts.” Aditya falls for the trap.
“Pfft, you historians are too dry. What if they were paranormal beings roaming the earth tens of thousands of years ago? Like the half-human, half-eagle Garuda in Ramayana.” Kiron pats Aditya's arm.
“Oh yeah. Where did those paranormal beings disappear? Evolution does not happen in reverse.” Aditya scoffs.
Kiron, though, is not giving up on this argument. “They must have fled on alien ships. Haven't you heard about the theory on pyramids and other strange monuments worldwide?”
“Guys, stop this intellectual discourse. We will be late.” Brian pulls Kiron and Aditya apart.
Aditya takes a deep breath. “Okay, if you all insist. But be warned: history is frustrating, patient, back-breaking work.”
“We are all experienced hikers.” Another round of ‘yeses’ follows Kenny's statement.
“First, we must have breakfast. Hungry stomachs make everyone cranky.” Kiron mothers Aditya, and moves him towards the Jeep.
“But I—” Aditya protests.
Kiron silences him. “First stop is your house, where, while you and Jimmy freshen up, we will get the breakfast ready.” Kiron pushes him to hop onto the middle seat, sandwiching him between both of us.
I mouth a silent apology to Aditya. He is still in a daze about being kidnapped. When I broached the topic with Sahil, I did not expect all my friends to latch on, but here we are, ready for our version of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Kenny made all of us watch the movie last night to set the mood.
Brian takes the driver's seat, and Kenny joins him in the front. Sudhanshu and Sahil take the rear seat. Brian's black Thar Jeep thunders as we drive to Aditya's house. I hope he will calm down by the time we reach his place.
***
Everyone scampers to take their places when Aditya emerges from his bedroom wearing dark blue jeans and a pastel yellow polo t-shirt.
On purpose, I called dibs on the shower and made my escape. This way, Aditya and I avoided spending any alone time. The gang had caused this trouble, so they should douse Aditya's ire.
Aditya sees right through our shenanigans. “Sudhanshu, reading a book upside down makes a dumb man. Kiron, the spatula is too big to spread butter on toast. And Jimmy, why are you wearing two different types of shoes?”
My throat goes dry. Is Aditya still upset?
“Come here, hungry tiger. Eat first. Growl later.” Kenny drags Aditya to the dining table, where a buffet-style spread of egg and veg sandwiches and steaming masala chai awaits us. We gather around and eat in silence, no one daring to speak.
Aditya takes pity on us. “Has any of you been to Lakhudiyar, the group of rock shelters on the banks of the Suyal River about twenty kilometres from here?”
“Ah, I remember a small board marking the place on the road to Jageshwar Dhaam between Petshaal and Badchina,” Sahil recalls.
“Yes, the same one. Those caves or shelters are believed to be millions of years old. The fascinating paintings on the rocks depict animals, people, and geometrical designs done by humans in the Stone Age. For example, there is one in which a group of people is dancing. If I recall correctly, thirty-four on one side and twenty-eight on the other,” Aditya informs us.
“Oh, right, an occasional tourist does mention the caves. The rock paintings are in red, white, and black. But most visitors are disappointed to make the precarious climb and find the faded shapes.” Brian adds his two bits.
“Two similar sites are Farkanauli and Petshaal. In fact, within a fifteen-kilometre radius, there are many similar sites.” Aditya elaborates on prehistoric rock art in India and around the world. I watch in fascination as he delivers his passionate discourse on stone-age living.
“Ah, yes. Bhimbetka is famous.” Kiron gets excited about the most famous rock paintings from India. “I came across some photos on the net while searching for motifs for a saree printing commission.”
“So, what's the plan?” Kenny asks, as he clears the table along with Sahil.
Aditya surveys the six pairs of expectant eyes. I even add a pout to the drama. He laughs, and we all let out a collective sigh of relief.
“As you all are prepared to trudge with me on this agonising expedition, we should go to the Lakhudriya caves. The visit will help all of you understand what we will be exploring.”
A loud cheer explodes in the room. Yays, yippees, and high fives are added to explorer, Indiana Jones, and treasure hunt as the gang jostles one another out of the house. We may not discover anything of substance, but these trips will add meaning to our friendship.
A family is forming, not of blood or genetics, but from bonds forged through the peaks of success and the valleys of despair.
This is despite living in a country where we are pariahs.
Someday, one day, as Kiron says, things shall turn our way.
A new hope rises in my chest, and I come to terms with one profound reality — I am in love with Aditya.