It was Friday the 13th (June, 1997) when I started in my Maruti 800 – DL 2CB-9279 from my friend Pradip’s place at Gurgaon at around 5.30 in the morning. I was taking this car to Mumbai – my new home after having spent 15 years in Delhi.
Like many other youngsters, I was crazy about the thought of driving. In Calcutta I developed a special affinity with the Private buses. At Phuntsholing, Bhutan, I had the first taste of handling the steering with our office Driver Vinod. I still remember the red number plate of our GM’s car BWP 5486. The car used to ferry me to & fro home across the Torsa (river). That was one of the few perks which Mr Peris offered the young Chartered Accountant for having volunteered to drift to a godforsaken place. With Vinod in control, I would manouvre the vehicle all the way down the hill from a Gumpha we used to visit. Imagine my delight when on arriving at Delhi from Phuntsholing , I found a car and a learner’s licence beckoning me. Our factory was at Sahibabad near the Delhi Border. It was an industrial area and you needed your own vehicle. I was told to learn driving on day 1 itself. It was God-sent for me. I enrolled with a driving school and was given a free hand to practice on (once again) a white Ambassador DEB 369. 15 years went by in Delhi. The driving licence obtained in 1982 was supplemented by a Heavy Vehicle one a few years later. Such was the penchant for driving. Many a time I would think of driving down to Calcutta from Delhi!!
The chance finally came in 1997 when I got a transfer to Mumbai. The Company’s policy permitted transportation of only one vehicle (the white Maruti van). And… I decided to race the 800 to Mumbai.
The family was already in Mumbai. I flew down to Delhi to give final touches at the Delhi office and took off on that morning. The thought of covering the entire distance all by my-self was not that comfortable. So I roped in a friend Solanki to partner me on our 1400 km long drive. I was aware of the road up to Chittorgarh , having driven there with the family once. The driver of the truck ferrying our house-hold goods had told me to take the Nashik route from there. I was not aware of the way after Chittor. I knew the alternate route was the Gujarat one from Udaipur.
Now on to my great Journey-
Solanki was already waiting at the pre-designated spot for sometime on the Jaipur Highway. I could sense that he had become a bit restless at my delay. We drove on. National Highway 8 - Dharuhera-Shahpur - before 3 hours we were on the outskirts of Jaipur. The camel- carts had already come on to our sight. We had breakfast at one of the Dhabas and by-passed Jaipur city. We continued on the NH8 and drove towards Ajmer. Taking the bypass at Kishengarh we avoided Ajmer town. The journey thru the hills on both sides was fascinating. Soon we reached Nasirabad. The next stage Nasirabad to Chittor (167 km) on NH 79 was thru the town of Bhilwara and we covered it in three hours. Solanki and I rotated ourselves on the steering at regular intervals. When we reached Chittor it was about 4 pm. No visit to Rani Padmini’s palace. No seeing around in the fort.
And then we had our confusion. We were to take the Udaipur –Ahmedabad route from there. But a shopkeeper we talked to suggested otherwise. He insisted that the Ratlam route was shorter and directed us on that.
So we took the road again and I now know that it was NH79. The road conditions changed. We passed thru the town of Neemuch. I knew of Neemuch as the headquarters of the CRPF. I was happy to associate my driving thru the town. I learn now that it was the birthplace of the CRPF in 1939. It was a big British cantonment and NIMACH meant North India Military Artillery and Cavalry HQ. (Just as MHOW means Military HQ of War). Then came the towns of Mandsaur and Pratapgarh. I was aware of these towns as the soap stone powders for our detergent plant used to come from the mines located here. I remember some of the Indian airlines Pilots used to announce when the aircraft would be cruising over Pratapgarh, that we were at the middle point between Delhi and Mumbai. It was getting slightly dark when we crossed Mandsaur. It was also drizzling a bit. And then there was big hissing sound in the car. Immediately I knew the source. While at Delhi I had bought a second hand air-conditioner and was carrying that with us in the car. The road conditions were bad and I knew that in the turmoil the gas had leaked .With a sense of relief as to the source, we moved on. The distance of 213 kms from Chittor to Ratlam took us quite some time. Finally we reached Ratlam around 10.30 quite exhausted. Ratlam is on the Mumbai-Delhi Rajdhani Route and is in the state of Madhya Pradesh.
We were looking for a hotel. The one we got was having a party going on and amidst loud music we entered the place. In the room we found that the doors did not have latches. Somewhat concerned we used the two chairs as blocks against the door and went off to sleep. I am not sure now whether we had kept the lights on or not. In the wee hours of the morning when we were departing, we could not find any hotel staff to pay off our three hundred rupees. I think with great difficulty we woke up one of the guys and paid him off.
By 5.30 we were on the road again. We were to take a turn at Chota Nagda and take to the hills of Dhar Ghat. I still remember the cup of tea we had at the turning. Amongst a whole lot of truckers we were the two enlightened ones and got some special treatment from the chai walla.
Solanki was interested in seeing the Dhar Ghat. He had heard from truck drivers that the ghat section was a challenging drive and that they are extremely cautious on this section. Sure enough, the moment we started our climb, we found stalled heavy vehicles up the slopes. We didn’t find the gradient to be very steep, but whatever, for the laden trucks it was a nightmare. The axles would break and they would get stalled. I am sure there was a bunch of entrepreneurial mechanics available at hand to cater to the replacement of the axles. On the way we saw temples and sand dune types. We were actually passing thru the old historical town of Mandu – the place of the epics of Baz Bahadur and Rani Roopmati. Sorry – we didn’t have the luxury to get into the various historical structures scattered all around. We drove on for some more time and hit NH3 (the famous Agra-Mumbai Road) around 8 in the morning. Solanki was impressed with my speed and the distance we had covered after the few hours of sleep that we had at that hotel. The milestones showed Mumbai to be 500 odd kms away. Look at the detour. Travelling thru Rajasthan, the straight route was thru Gujarat. But here we were – Rajasthan to M.P. and then onto Maharashtra. Today, almost 13 years later we’d definitely prefer the Gujarat route as the Ahmedabad highway, I hear is a treat to drive on.
Once on the NH3, the road conditions improved tremendously. There were only trucks with an occasional smaller vehicle coming on to our view. We stopped at a place called Shirpur for breakfast. The next big stop I remember was Dhulian or Dhule. Mumbai was still 350 kms away. It was about 3.30 in the afternoon. Soon the Western Ghats started and we were driving on the ghat section. We saw various types of accidental sites. We saw the front engine portion of a Loaded trailer lying in a nose-dived condition on the rocks when negotiating a bend on the ghats. The trailer was standing intact. Then we saw cleaners placing rocks at the rear wheels and making laden trucks move literally centimeter by centimeter. These things are seen to be believed. Remaining within the contours of our city life will never give us such firsthand experiences.
The journey to Nashik was on the hills only. We could feel driving against huge wind pressures. The sound of the wind would definitely make the weaker humans giddy. I would love to go back on this trail some day.
We were a good 200 kms away when the sun set. I was feeling unwell. Having consumed all sorts of food on the road for two days, I was having stomach aches. We waited for some time. Then Solanki took over and we neared Mumbai. It was raining in stretches. I wanted to cross the octroi check-post without getting caught with the air-conditioner. The intermittent drizzles helped me in that. We reached western express highway around 10 pm. I was new to Mumbai and was not conversant with the roads at all. Somehow I remembered the Powai road and moved onto it. Finally we reached our Lokhandwalla home at Tarapore Gardens around 11 p.m. So we made it in about 30 hours with a halt at Ratlam for about 6 hours. Not bad!!! I must thank Solanki. Without him it would not have been possible.
The years of craze for driving a real long distance finally materialized at the age of 40. I don’t mind doing it all over again. Road conditions are much more improved today. All the best to anyone and everyone who wants to give it a try. Ciao.
