If anyone tells you hiking boots or even sneakers are a must for a trek, thank him and before he has the chance to say, "Welcome," quickly add, "And you are an asshole." And scoot. I wore hiking boots for a trek on Sunday and I ended up with blisters the size of Naipaul's ego! The trek wasn't for wimps, which is just another way of saying it wasn't for me. The hardest thing I can do is bend down a bit to switch on the CPU of my office computer. Imagine my trekking 2,700 feet, which was nothing less than an exercise in masochism. Though I knew it was going to be hard, especially during monsoons, I was kicked about it. It's like enjoying being butt-fucked by strange dicks--please don't be led to believe I'm homoerotic, I just employed a simile.
Accompanying me on the trek was a very indiscreet Anu and we were treated to some flawless courtesy by the organiser of the trek, henceforth referred to as 'Schmuck'. When we reached Virar, he said he had just taken a rick with his co-trekkers to a village called Sakwar which is the starting point of the ascent to Tak Mak fort. So we two had to take a bus, as we didn't have enough money to afford an auto ride costing Rs 300, and then flag a truck on a highway (that's how people travel there). The truck stopped and we got in to be smiled at by the driver, a probable rapist. "Holy shit! I feel anything but good. What if he tries something funny with Anu?" I started thinking how I would pull off a rescue act. When it dawned on me that I would throw in the towel a tad too early, I decided in the event of the driver's misbehaving with Anu, I would tell him to first drop me off at the nearest bus stop. Fortunately, my wussiness wasn't exposed and we got to the village unmolested and unmugged.
I then called Schmuck only to be told that the trek had begun. Organiser extraordinaire! Doff your hat for him. We then took the help of a village boy and proceeded uphill and met Schmuck and his gang. Quite expectedly, I was the worst trekker, and called it quits every ten steps. Meanwhile, I heard someone say, "I'm terrible walking uphill." I thought, "I'm terrible walking straight, leave alone uphill or downhill."
When were reaching the top, I felt I was very close to heaven from where my grandpa waved to me. He looked wan and forlorn because, as I found out a couple of minutes later, he had landed in the Catholic heaven by mistake and was being fed bacon and well-done steak (he gave me a bite of it) instead of avial and olan. The heaven authorities knew he was vegetarian but still made him eat meat and then told him he was a sinner according to Hindu laws.
Finally, we reached as high as we possibly could. Considering this was by far my biggest physical achievement, I wanted to jump off the cliff, except that no one had the balls to push me (I, quite obviously, don't have a fifth of the balls it takes). I decided if I wanted to trek ever again, I would just get stoned. Being stoned, you can climb (and a lot more) whatever you want, not just hills and mountains. And what's more, you needn't move an inch.
Accompanying me on the trek was a very indiscreet Anu and we were treated to some flawless courtesy by the organiser of the trek, henceforth referred to as 'Schmuck'. When we reached Virar, he said he had just taken a rick with his co-trekkers to a village called Sakwar which is the starting point of the ascent to Tak Mak fort. So we two had to take a bus, as we didn't have enough money to afford an auto ride costing Rs 300, and then flag a truck on a highway (that's how people travel there). The truck stopped and we got in to be smiled at by the driver, a probable rapist. "Holy shit! I feel anything but good. What if he tries something funny with Anu?" I started thinking how I would pull off a rescue act. When it dawned on me that I would throw in the towel a tad too early, I decided in the event of the driver's misbehaving with Anu, I would tell him to first drop me off at the nearest bus stop. Fortunately, my wussiness wasn't exposed and we got to the village unmolested and unmugged.
I then called Schmuck only to be told that the trek had begun. Organiser extraordinaire! Doff your hat for him. We then took the help of a village boy and proceeded uphill and met Schmuck and his gang. Quite expectedly, I was the worst trekker, and called it quits every ten steps. Meanwhile, I heard someone say, "I'm terrible walking uphill." I thought, "I'm terrible walking straight, leave alone uphill or downhill."
When were reaching the top, I felt I was very close to heaven from where my grandpa waved to me. He looked wan and forlorn because, as I found out a couple of minutes later, he had landed in the Catholic heaven by mistake and was being fed bacon and well-done steak (he gave me a bite of it) instead of avial and olan. The heaven authorities knew he was vegetarian but still made him eat meat and then told him he was a sinner according to Hindu laws.
Finally, we reached as high as we possibly could. Considering this was by far my biggest physical achievement, I wanted to jump off the cliff, except that no one had the balls to push me (I, quite obviously, don't have a fifth of the balls it takes). I decided if I wanted to trek ever again, I would just get stoned. Being stoned, you can climb (and a lot more) whatever you want, not just hills and mountains. And what's more, you needn't move an inch.
