CAPITAL HILL AFTERNOON

It was a beautiful fall day in Islamabad, the sun was shining and a gentle breeze was murmuring through the trees.  It was also the tenth of Muharram and a sectarian strife was in full swing as Sunni and Shia mobs battled out their religious differences on the streets of Rawalpindi.  Let them fight it out and I will go for a hike, I thought to myself and stepped onto a hiking trail in Margalla hills that leads up to Pir Sohawa where a few illegally built restaurants do thriving business especially on public holidays.

A few days earlier during a raging party a few of us decided to take advantage of the good weather and go for a hike in the hills during Ashura holidays.  “You will see beautiful birds, all kinds of wild animals and a wide variety of trees and exotic plants during the hike”.  I motivated my friends to get their blood warm for the excursion but alas on the day of the hike, I was the only one who wanted to connect with nature and soothe my urban soul.  It turned out my friends were not really interested in gawking at the birds in the trees but were more into checking out the birds of another kind.

I took trail 2 from the far north end of Margalla road and was happily walking along my way, feeling the freedom of hills in my hair when I noticed a very thin and a very long snake soaking up the sun by the trail side. I stopped to take a long look at this beautiful creature. It was light grey with bold yellow stripes and it moved slightly when it sensed an intruder in its space. Snakes normally creep me out but that day I just stood there and marvelled at its good looks.

Then a thought went through my head as I continued along my way.  It is a perfect day for the snakes to crawl out of their holes and warm their cold blooded bodies and who knows I might encounter more on this hike. It was an unsettling thought so I shrugged it out of my mind and steered my thoughts towards this gorgeous woman that I am trying to woo without any luck. And then as I started getting breathless on the steep trail, my mind started wandering all over the place.

There is a bloody sectarian riot in Rawalpindi and people are dying as I walk.  What if there was trouble in Islamabad, would I be out here hiking in the hills. Should I ask her out for dinner or send her flowers instead and why can’t I see any monkeys hanging out on that rocky face jutting out of the hill, normally there are dozens. I need new trekking shoes and why are there less people on the trail today.

 And then I jumped out of my head when I came across an elderly couple walking down the hill, I thought about salaaming them but then I decided otherwise as they didn’t look that friendly.  Last time when I salamed a woman on this trail, she glared menacingly back at me, nearly wiping me out of my trekking shoes. Before this unpleasant incident, I used to salam everyone who came across me on this hiking trail but now I am super wary and don’t salam everyone and anyone. It is sad but I don’t like getting dirty looks. Like the other day at a television station after a business meeting I shook hands with a few people but when I extended my hand to this woman, she didn’t take it. Instead she coldly told me, she doesn’t shake hands with men. I was rudely surprised and embarrassed.

After a steady steep section on the trail I came to a clearing from where I could see the whole city down below in one glance and it was a beautiful sight. I could see Rawal lake in the distance and the Shalimar cricket ground down below. It wasn’t a clear and crisp day as a thin blanket of haze hung over the city.

As I moved up through the singing pine trees and rounded a corner I came face to face with a family of monkeys lounging right there on the trail. I stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed a couple of baby monkeys frolicking around and two big mama and papa monkeys watching over them. The big monkeys started grunting menacingly at my sight. This is no good I thought to myself and backed up a little hoping the monkeys will move away into the bushes and let me pass but nothing happened. The monkeys kept their ground and looked aggressive. I slowly reached for a stick on the ground and on an impulse started addressing the monkeys in my mother tongue that is Hindko. I loudly told the monkeys that I come in peace and mean no harm to them or their kids. That I am just a hiker hopping along my way and they should just move away to a side and let me pass. Incredulously the monkeys listened to me intently, collected their babies and disappeared into the bushes. I heaved a sigh of relief and continued onwards.

It takes about two and a half hours for novice hikers to reach Pir Sohawa from the parking lot down below but experienced hikers can do it in hour and half. I had covered half the distance when I decided to take a break and gulp down some water. I was disgusted at the rubbish lying around the benches where I sat down to rest. People who litter always amaze me, is it the faulty upbringing, new money, general insensitivity, lack of education or what? Please ask yourself that.

After a brief rest and rehydration I moved along the trail that had now eased off and zig zagged through a maze of high bushes and forked off in two directions. I stopped to figure out which one to take. One looked like a well beaten track while the other looked a bit steeper and less used. So naturally I took the road less travelled and trudged along, keeping an eye out for the snakes when suddenly this long big brown serpent dashed out of nowhere and crossed the path right in front of me. Sensing my presence it stopped for a split second in the middle of the trail and then with the speed of lightening slithered down into the bushes. A surge of fear and adrenalin rushed through me as I took a big gulp of air and quickened my pace to get away from that spot.

What is going on? Two snakes sightings in the span of an hour.  Darn this good weather, it brings out all kinds of creepies and crawlies out of their holes. As the adrenalin eased off, I suddenly felt hungry and looked forward to another half an hour of hiking and then lunch at Monal restaurant. The last bit up to the top of the mountain was steep, tiring and hot as I was climbing on the fire trail rather than taking the easier track that wound around the mountain with lesser gradient.

When I finally reached the top of the mountain and looked at the restaurants down below my heart sank and I nearly lost my appetite as the place was crawling with hoards of coners (irresponsible tourists). I didn’t feel like going down and eating with that teeming mass of humanity for some strange reason. I felt like sitting in a quite café, eating and reading my book. So I took trail 5 on my way back down, looking forward to a grilled fish and this time for the fluttering birds of another kind.