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Cloud Nine ...a weekend in Ranikhet Sanjay Singh Badnor The Himalayas shone in the twilight sun. The valley below bore a clean virginal look as numerous waterfalls gushed downwards to form gurgling brooks. The intoxicating scent of pine filled the air. The atmosphere was invigorating. Intoxicating. Seated on the terrace restaurant of our hotel, I was offered an incredible 180 degree view of the Kumaon Himalayas, which were drenched in a brilliant crimson glow. Luck, it seems, was most certainly in my favour. I was witnessing the famous Ranikhet sunset, which I was told is rare to see, particularly after the onset of the monsoon. My association with Ranikhet began a long time ago. As far back as I can remember, I would longingly gaze at the white framed canvas, painted by the now octogenarian Bengali artist B C Gue, which hung on the wall of my family home at Ajmer in Rajasthan. It was simply titled Sunset Ranikhet. Sitting at the Cost Plus resort, about 10 km further up from Ranikhet, at Majhkali, I was astonished to be reliving that very familiar painting. The trip to Ranikhet was unplanned. We were in Delhi and the monsoon had not yet hit the city. The wait was beginning to get unbearable in the sultry, sweaty, polluted capital. Instead of suffering this torturous weather, a friend and I decided to escape to the cooler Kumaon Himalayas. On a Thursday night, we boarded an overnight AC bus from Kashmere Gate, Old Delhi, and reached Nainital at 0700 hours, in pouring rain. It seemed futile to hang around, so we decided to catch the first bus to Ranikhet. As luck would have it, we caught a local passenger bus which stopped at every little village and hamlet to take passengers on. The bus was in a sorry state, but since there was plenty of space, initially, we were happy to stretch our weary legs. Our pleasure was short lived. Shortly thereafter, the bus was spilling over with people, postal gunny bags (the bus also doubled as a postal van), vegetable baskets and who knows what else. The simple village folk were oblivious to the chaos and lack of space. They were rather amused to see two city brats, with fancy totes and Walkmans, feeling quite out of place in this typically rural atmosphere. Ranikhet, situated on the lower spurs of the Kumaon Himalayas, lies at about 6,000 feet above sea level, on a rough tableland. Developed primarily as a military station, it consists of two district units -- Ranikhet town and the cantonment, headquarters of the famous Kumaon regiment. About midway between Nainital and Ranikhet, the weather seemed to look a bit more optimistic, which immediately enthused me. I tried to nudge my drowsy friend awake, so that he too could admire the pristine scenery trying to peep its way through the clouds. A few minutes later, thick gray clouds enveloped us again. It began to rain, and rained all the way till Ranikhet. After disembarking from the rickety claptrap that had brought us this far, we meandered through the streets, filled with vividly coloured umbrellas, to the local jeep stand to catch a ride to Majhkali, 10 km beyond Ranikhet. Bright, scarlet signposts bearing the name Cost Plus Resorts, where we had decided to spend the weekend, made our task easier. Visibility had reduced considerably as clouds of mist wafted about. The hotel manager explained the monsoon had just set in and chances of clearer days were remote. We were, it seemed, in for a wet, wet weekend at Ranikhet. Almost as if to prove him wrong, a little while later the weather cleared. From the hotel's terrace restaurant (aptly named Cloud 9), that evening, we were treated to a panoramic view of the Kumaon Himalayas, stretching endlessly from one end to the other. An uninterrupted view of 200 miles of snow clad peaks, swathed in a brilliant glow. Magnificent. One could distinctly spot Nanda Devi (25,645 ft), Nanda Ghoti (21,286 ft), Trishul, Panchkoti and the Panchachuli peaks. Nature was putting up a grand show. The next morning was no different. Light flooded our room at daybreak. In the east, the sun rose majestically over the valley, while a steady drizzle fell in the west. A double rainbow appeared on the horizon. Kahlil Gibran's famous couplet came to mind… Beauty rises with the dawn. Unlike most Indian hill stations, Ranikhet – thankfully -- does not boast of a conventional mall. Malls attract hordes of tourists. Ranikhet therefore affords no 'official' tourist sights. Aadesh, the resort's owner, suggested some day excursions. We set off for the day with Sher Singh Bisht, our Kumaoni driver and guide. The first halt was at Kalika village, famous for its Kali temple, situated on a hill. Photography was not permitted. I dearly wish I could have taken a few snaps of the women sadhus, who were chilling out, smoking chillums. From Kalika we proceeded to another temple, the Binsar Mahadev, a 45 minute drive away, through misty, pine forests. We had a long day ahead and I kept urging Sher Singh to drive faster. He turned a deaf ear and would sporadically point out to a signboard which read Mathu math hitu in Kumaoni. When I asked him to translate, I learnt it meant -- Please drive slowly. A little ahead we encountered another interesting signboard that read -- Halt, look and proceed, leopards have right of way. We passed the quaint hamlets of Tarikhet and Soni enroute, before entering the thick pine forest. We were forced to abandon the car and walk down the winding pathway to the Binsar Mahadev temple. It was built aside a babbling stream, and was wonderfully serene and peaceful, devoid of any tourists. I spotted a pair of birds of paradise engaged in a courtship dance. From Binsar we headed back to Ranikhet to visit the Chaubatia botanical gardens. Devout Sher Singh made us halt at another temple on the way back. This was a shrine dedicated to Jhula Devi. Scores and scores of bells of all sizes adorned the temple courtyard. The temple priest explained to me that any devotee could ask for a boon, and if it was granted s/he had to repay the goddess by offering a bell. Continued

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