Travel Diaries

The happening in Manali

It was 5 degrees and I was not wearing a sweater. The only warmth I received was from the Ipod in my pocket, which had heated up due to 6 hours of non-stop play. We reached Manali, after checking out of Simla. The hotel we checked in once belonged to the English, and looked very much like the sets of an old British film. Quite relative, the place had been a British bank once upon a time, and now a 5 star inn by the Mahindras. Nothing new, everything comes under the real estate banner these days. You give them a chance and they’ll turn the Amazon forest into a resort with ayurvedic massage parlor and spa. And their advert headline would read ‘We have no branches’ (pun intended).

Speaking of which, there was an ancient ad poster on the lobby wall. In which a fair lady draped in a wedding gown stood raising her whiskey glass and the headline above her read, ‘Top class whiskey’. The Snow Mountain in the background made the poster picturesque. Later, on close observation realized the mountain top appeared over the glass, now was it supposed to replace the ice cubes or was it the visual play of the ‘top’? I had no clue

Meanwhile in the lobby, my mom was busy reading the activity board and my dad was finishing the room’s paper work. So, I lifted my ass to take a self help tour of the hotel. I reached the first floor and I walked through the aisle. The place seemed very familiar, like a past life regression. I felt I knew this place and I had seen everything around here before. I quite liked my new mental detour; it detached me from my previous thoughts of the ad campaign which I had to discuss with my art partner after returning back to Bombay. The ad campaign which was just a pain, a shit pile which fucked our heads since the time we sat down to brainstorm. The only thing under its alleged reason we did was have more alcohol and talk nonsense. So I continued walking into the black hole of my previous life regression. Both sides of the aisle were covered in blood red wallpaper. And a thick red carpet was spread out on the floor, so thick that it completely muted the footsteps. Even if someone sprinted towards me from behind I would not have budged.

As I walked past an open door, a light breeze blew at me. I looked inside and I saw a fat man watching TV. The memories poured in and I remembered this place. It was not previous birth nostalgia, but the same place where Barton Fink stayed, in the movie Barton Fink. The wallpapers were similar to the ones in the movie, so much that even the flowery design was the same. I had seen the movie twice in the office. And off course, I had come back home tired after work.

The events that followed in the next 3 days at Manali in my hotel were shocking. It had never happened before and whatever occurred was all true. In the night, I got up to pee; when I came back, my sleep was lost to the wallpaper in my room; it had peeled off from a corner. I got up and stuck it back. The same thing had happened with Barton in the movie. The next day I got up to get ready for our sight seeing program. Behind the bathroom door, there was a picture of a man skiing. Even in Barton Fink there was a poster in his room of a girl sitting on the beach and facing the sun. And in the final scene of the film, Barton meets an identical looking lady on an identical looking beach striking an identical pose.

We reached Rohtang pass and the snow had turned almost brown. Lots of people had flocked in and the place was filled with honeymooners and a few Marathi speaking tourist groups. For sure, Mumbaikars are everywhere and we make it a point to reach all heights.

A local chap came up to me and convinced me to put on the skiing gear. He then gave me a crash course, but I only kept crashing. So before I gave up, I allowed my mom to click my photograph. Unknowingly, I posed just like the man in the bathroom.