It was a beautiful calm and clear day, Sun appeared clearly well in the sky as if to smile towards the earth saying here is my last gift of warmth before the winter takes over. I was glad we too were the receivers of that gift.
The wheels of our Cultus dragged hard on the stones and pebbles of the dirt road, at times crashing with a hard rock which would go bang under the floor of our car and immediately remind me of my family suggesting the car is not the best idea for this adventure of mine. I was so desperate to bring the team of Media Voice to these places, to let them see where people live and how they too can be made part of the change happening.
The songs of Ali Jaan playing loudly on the car stereo while beautiful huge mountains passed by like old friends standing beside the car for long and waving goodbye until they disappear. Fresh cold waves of winter brushed through my hair which was now a mess as I was half outside of the car window excited to feel the Balochistani air and dirt that brought with it the smell of my home and memories of my life...
There were moments when those memories swirled through my mind and my heart would hold me for a while in a smile at nothingness. I am really excited for today I decide because Its been a while... a long while since I spent more then a few hours with my relatives on the mountains, there was always something that brought me back to the town, work, work, a meeting, an important call, work and work but this time I decided to stay more, I planned to stay there for the night!
After about two hours journey we were all hungry, two hours are usually not a good excuse to get hungry but it was the yummy smell of chollay chaat packed along that we had bought in the town earlier that day that allured us to stop for an-eating-break. Finally stopping at the sight of a hotel (named Achanak, which means sudden in English) we hurriedly got out of the car to find that the hotel was deserted and there was no one around. The absence of a proper cookery and plates only led us to a last decision.
We were soon eating from our chollay chaat right from the plastics we got them in, biting into that spicy chaat a flash of memory ran through my mind of a hot day in my home-town in Balochistan when I and my friend Farida were eating chollay chaat with deep loads of spice in it while our tiny hands holding on to the pack and our smiling faces beaming like those of stars on a dark night... we never cared that we had just exchanged my (maternal) uncles shoes to the chollay wala (person selling chaat) to get those chaats and what were to be the consequences, but the chaat, the spice and the taste that dripped slowly down our throats was filling that moment with total splendour... what a wonderful time that was. My memories soon broke with the click clack of the camera by my uncle capturing my evil looking smile that I usually have when I am thinking of some beautiful memories of past.
We took off again, plains finished and a great mountainous range started which is called the Jalebi mor (Jalebi in local language means a sweet made in circles that come on top of each other) This road however is a lot worse then that. We have to stop at many times to check through the path, giving me a good chance of photography plus being photographed. I see a lot of electricity poles which the locals say came about three years ago but the electricity wires are waiting their turn.... The villages where we were going, along with dozens of others in that area have never seen electricity in their lives, seeing these poles and having them fixed in their villages was one of the biggest celebrations for them. I imagined many times during our ride again how would it be like for them to have electricity for real??
