A Leopard, a road and a memorable walk in Ramghar Uttarakhand

I've often been asked why, from walking 10,000 steps a day, I can increase it to 20,000 in Himalayas where the terrain Is rough. While I hate using the walking machine or thingjamay  in the gyms. The answer is simple: the view, my dear, the view. This is the road to Dak Bungalow, and the best part was when I saw a leopard cross the creek below me. He seemed more shocked than I was. We exchanged glances. He was rather young and inexperienced, seemingly out of place and apologetic, with a grin that said, "Oh hi, we weren't supposed to meet. Please don't report this to the forest department."

I was simply admiring the bees and flowers. I chose not to mention that I knew the Chief Conservator of Forests for Uttarakhand. Name-dropping rarely ends well, especially when a leopard, tired of forest trails, wanted a stroll on the nice tarmac road humans had built in his territory. Plus, he was quite friendly with me; with my physique, I could have fed him for a week or two. So, we decided to avoid involving the Uttarakhand Forest Department. Besides, who knows how that would end? Government officials are notorious for their excessive paperwork. My father, a government employee, had a file on me filled with health records, birth certificates, academic records, clothing purchases, school fee receipts, and even telephone and electricity bills. To keep it short, both his and my experiences with bureaucracy led us to conclude that discretion and non-disclosure were the best options. With a brief exchange of glances, we continued our respective journeys.

I refrained from offering him any advice. Young people today tend to react violently to unsolicited advice on civility and gentlemanly behavior. I suppose it was my father's tennis racket and powerful forehand and backhand that kept me from becoming the kind of thug the current generation seems to want to emulate. So, we ambled along, with me gaining wisdom about the attitudes of young people, while the leopard might have been contemplating his near-miss. Had he used the word "uncle," I might have been compelled to give report him to the forest ranger. But like a good, old-fashioned gentleman, he simply ambled away and jumped down a steep incline without injury. I made a mental note to mention this to his parents if I ever met them. After all you never know who you will meet in the Himalayas from Saint to sinner, all have made their abode here plus Indian parents have a knack for humbling their children, and they would undoubtedly pull him down a peg or two . "Call me uncle, will ya?" I mused.

As the sun began to set, I took out my torch and continued my walk, encountering a cow or two. Along with a few idiots who seemed to have learnt how to drive their motercycle  viabvideo games and were trying to set land speed records on Village roads. I beleive you call them politely as Morons of the first order of Bharat

Then, I received a call from my nephew warning me not to walk on the road below due to roaming leopards. I decided not to tell him about my pleasant encounter with the young leopard, as unmarried nephews with younger sisters have a tendency to preach. It made me wish he were married, as then he would understand the power of  woman's words, which even a passionate missionary can't match even though his faith Christ might be as much as St.Peters which is not saying much since they did denying knowing Christ but then you get the general idea.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave when we get married... But that's a story for another time. Dedicated to R.C. Dikshit, IPS who always had a new story to share.