My own episode of ‘Jailed Abroad’ in Garhwal Himalaya

After a 3-4 day assignment in Shimla, it was found that Garhwal in Uttarakhand could be reached via a beautiful winding route. I had always been a light packer until this trip, now I intended to travel & write while traipsing around for an extended period and hence carried 2 bags weighing 20 odd kilos.

Read : An expert guide to Shimla

Colourful blossoms signifying the advent of spring.

A very educated old man sat next to me in the bus, imparting amazing local knowledge. The drive was picturesque, cherry blossoms appeared near Theog and snow walls around KhadaPatthar created a surreal landscape.

I saw the Jubbal Palace from afar as the bus pulled in to Hatkoti just before sunset, famous for the 8th Century Hatkeshwari Mata Temple on the banks of Pabbar river.

Even after wandering for an hour, I couldn’t find a place as every accommodation possible was booked for a marriage, the whole town in a festive frenzy. After some phone calls, the PWD Rest House Caretaker agreed to let me in. The temple bells rang as I rushed to the evening aarti at 7. There were fewer than 10 people in that moment of tranquility. I closed my eyes and an unknown fear encapsulated my thoughts, perhaps imagining the impending disaster that was to befall me.

Magical landscape enroute Hatkoti.

I was keen on extending my stay in Hatkoti for another day, but luck had deserted me. I made my way to Hanol in Uttarakhand, crossing over the border into Uttarakhand at Tyuni – also the confluence of Tons & Pabbar river. Hanoi has been declared as the 5th Dham by the Uttarakhand Govt. courtesy of the Mahasu Temple. The Mahasu Devta is revered as the most powerful of all mountain Gods.

Drums were out and people gathered in the sanctum of Mahasu Temple. The weather was cloudy and I was intoxicated on nature, walking to a pretty village nearby to see the Maha Shiv Temple. The Pandit enquired about my caste & only upon hearing my last name allowed me to sit in the prayers.

Inside Mahasu Temple, popularly known as the 5th Dham in Uttarakhand.

It was an aarti, the kind of which I had not seen earlier. A long and elaborate ceremony which was attended by the entire village. Designs on the door looked like ancient Egyptian Symbols. I was invited by the wife of one village priest to stay at their home and savour the local cuisine. Mist & clouds gathered as evening came, while delicious chai indoors kept me cozy. Aske – Rice flour pancakes cooked in steam were served, I savoured them with glee while It kept pouring all night.

My next destination was going to be wherever the road took me. After waiting for an hour, a bus appeared, its destination being Barkot. I was lapping up the views from the window, green & yellow fields separated by the Tons river. A chance conversation with a gentleman in the bus resulted in me getting down at Mori instead, the Har-Ki-Dun trek was a possibility. My intended place for the night would be Sankri now.

Entrance of the Maha Shiv Temple in Thadiyar.

In hindsight, this was my first error. My worst fears were about to come true. I caught a direct bus that would take me to Sankri, that never started. After hanging on the road for the best part of an hour, a meagre breakfast was had. Another bus came, broke down after going only 3 kms ahead. My instinct told me to instead go to the original destination, Barkot. I came back to Mori and got into a bus to Purola. Alas, that broke down too in Mori itself.

A taxi-wallah seized the opportunity and started shouting ‘Sankri, Sankri’. Everyone clamoured for a seat and I jumped in too. We set off but the smart fellow that he was, stopped halfway in a place called Naitwad and said he aint going no further. It was here on the street that I met with ‘the locals masquerading as tourists.’

Beautiful terraced fields separated by the Pabbar River as the road crossed into Uttarakhand at Tiuni.

They were 3 guys and were going to another place close-by, and said that I would love the natural beauty there. I have always been in awe with the kindness of mountain folk (6 years of solo travel) and had no reason to suspect them of any wrong-doing. The shared taxi was off and running, arriving at a place called Dhola after a 1 hour drive. The hamlet was on the other side of a hanging suspension bridge.

Immediately on crossing to the other side, the words Rupin Pass were visible written on the walls of a dhaba. I asked my co-travellers if this was the same trail, they confirmed and then told me we were indeed headed that side. I would not have dared to trek with 20 kilos on me. Immediately this concern of mine was shared with them, and one of them said ‘We have come together, don’t worry – we will take turns with the bags.’ My worries were put to rest.

The bus breaks down, a mixture of circumstances to bring me down.

Content after a tasty lunch of rice & dall, my heart sang amid the dense forests with the pretty Rupin-Supin river flowing. They were well behaved and seemed like genuine travellers. I was very happy to be embarking on a trail few knew about and the opportunity of staying like locals in the winters made me very excited. We left for a nearby village for the night, an hour’s walk away, they said.

It was a beautiful path by the river and various streams crossed us by. We reached in the nick of time as it started raining and snow was visible in the upper reaches of the mountains. Beautiful three-storeyed wooden houses in nowhere land with cattle living on the lowest floor welcomed us. One of the guy’s relatives lived here as we entered our room made of Deodhar wood. My olfactory senses were in for a treat, the natural aroma emanating within the entire house.

Walking along the Rupin-Supin River.

I took my DSLR out and began clicking pictures. Dinner was organically grown red rice and locally grown rajmah. It might be the most delicious meal I’ve ever had. The lady in the house served us lovingly and ensured all of us ate well. Their fourth friend who lived nearby also joined us for dinner.

When I woke up the next morning, it was immediately known that a 212 VIP perfume & iPhone headphones were missing. I knew for certain that it was one of them who had done it. Without making too much fuss, I politely told everyone about my loss in front of the lady. The boys said, ‘The bag was opened in Dhola, perhaps they might have been left there.’ I wasn’t convinced but chose to believe their story as they confidently asked me to check their bags if I was suspicious. My mood was made better over chai & photographing the locals while listening to stories.

A view of the first village leading to Dodra – Kwar.

I had carefully locked my bag and kept the keys in my pocket, to avoid further damage.

After a lunch of more red rice and wonderful dall, we headed towards the bigger village of Hadwadi, because the fourth guy had his home there. This was a steep walk across the river and took around 3 hours. This home was even more palatial than the earlier one, made entirely from Deodhar wood. There were some ancient looking temples in the village, which gave it a feel of being lost in time.

We immediately cleaned the hitherto closed room & set about preparing our dinner. When I saw my bag, the lock had been broken down and my iPod was missing. I didn’t know what to do. I told them they were the ones who were robbing me. I was slapped, beaten, kicked with boots & threatened with my life. They didn’t agree with the accusations. I realised the kind of danger I was in and tried gathering my senses.

Phone photographs because the dslr was lost.😦

My heart started beating faster and faster. I thought I would faint. It was night, I cried and told them to let me go that day itself. They took turns slapping me and told me to not make any noise; talked among themselves, murmuring that I should be done away with and my body thrown in the river.   I still had a Nikon dslr, a Macbook Air, an iPhone & cash (4000 Rupees) on me.

One of them took me aside and told me not to worry as we were all going to walk to Dhola the next day. Its funny how we cling to a little ray of hope when everything seems down and out. I had given up on my stuff and the animal instinct of survival kicked in.

I don’t remember how the night passed. I knew inside my heart, they were not going to let me walk away just like that. Inspite of promising that we would walk back, they were chilled out and relaxed till 9. Then I insisted I be left alone on my own. It made them agitated, this talk of mine. One of them bought an iron rod from somewhere and waved it at me. I froze.

Artistic doors fascinate me, in Hadwadi village.

At that moment I told them my bags were theirs and that I wanted my life to be spared. They started pacifying me and quickly made lunch. I was forcibly told to eat and wipe my tears lest anybody in the village know what was happening.

One of the guys and me left earlier than the others to walk to the village where we had stayed the first night. My money had already been taken away except for a paltry sum of 500 Rupees. They kept asking me for my atm card, which I had safely hidden. Once in the open I felt relieved, almost as if fresh life had been injected in me. Upon reaching, I tried to start walking all the way to Dhola but I was warned to not even attempt doing that. My heart shuddered to think if I could survive another night in captivity.

The other three reached a little later with a live chicken in hand and commanded us to join them. I had no choice in the matter and we ended up at a fortune teller’s den. It seemed that they wanted to scare the living daylights out of me, I’m ashamed to say but they managed that. After some weird rituals, the chicken was sacrificed on top of my head. They say a man’s strength is judged on how he reacts when everything has been taken away from him. I didn’t flinch and confidently got up and asked if we could continue to Dhola or I make a hue & cry.

View of the wooden houses from top of Hadwadi Village, I was told this is enroute Dodra-Kwar as the road is blocked in winter.

They were taken aback at the sudden turn of events. I had assumed the worst case scenario and in my own mind wasn’t gonna be alive to see the morning. We started walking towards Dhola, where all this had began. I was almost running, the incentive of being a free man made blood course rapidly through my veins.

I had told them repeatedly that I wasn’t going to lodge a Police complaint nor tell about them to anybody. That was one thing that put them in a fix, whether to believe me or not. We reached Dhola before sun down, but they had more plans in mind to harass me.

They grabbed my bag and took it to one of the rooms on top of the dhaba. I was like a broken record who just wanted to escape from their clutches. When upstairs, they threw open my bag and made away with the dslr. I said don’t bother, take it all away. They were convinced the first thing i’d do after getting somewhere was report to the police. One of them tried to reason with me asking about getting money from the atm and wanted to take the 500 Rupees I had. I cried and cried and said I had nothing left and how was I supposed to walk back home without my ipod & dslr camera.

How I wish I could turn back time and pretend it never happened.

One of them walked up with a cane in hand and made a waving sound, the door was closed when they started pushing and shoving, resulting in me getting shit scared again. Various accusations against me started to fly, one said ‘you have raped my sister’. Another said ‘you have stolen ancient jewellery from our home’. I understood the grave implications of what that meant and gave my word, saying ‘I give a Rajput’s word, what happened here, stays here.’

My heart was stuck in my mouth as I could not fathom a way out of there. Someone suggested that they should come to drop me to Mori the next morning and make money out of the atm. I had given up on life and thought of it as a bonus if I made it out safely out of there. One guy was going to Shimla and wanted me to go with him, I kept resisting.

My night passed in relative peace as the owner of the dhaba slept in the same room as ours, the other rooms being fully occupied. The little pup from the dhaba made squeaking sounds which seemed like music to my ears. I woke up at 7 and told them I was going. They made flimsy excuses to keep me waiting, but I kept at it, moving here and there so that the world could see me. They were hell bent on accompanying me to Shimla. Shared taxis were visible on the other side of the road. At 11, one of them got frustrated with me and shouted ‘run, you bastard.’

I didn’t look behind, took both my bags and walked steadily to not invite any attention. While crossing the bridge, I noticed the Nepali worker at the dhaba was following me. There was a mini tempo going all the way to Shimla, but not leaving anytime soon. I stood in the middle of the road, breathing again, my mind refused to believe my ordeal was over. I was hungry and hadn’t eaten anything since lunch the previous day. I didn’t even have water with me.

A shared taxi came, was full, but they stopped and i jumpedin , the Nepali didn’t see me. I counted 37 people on board, some of them sitting on the roof & some just standing.

There was a range of emotions flashing in my eyes. I controlled my tears even though it seemed like the most natural thing to do. This taxi stopped in Naitwad. I walked across town, wore my clothes inside out, removed the hat & changed my appearance a bit. After walking for 10 odd minutes, I asked for a hike from a two-wheeler till Mori. The wind-in-my-hair moments on the motorcycle had a crazy feel, just 2 hours ago I was struggling, hanging on for dear life.

Escaping from the danger zone. In hindsight it feels like hollywood style.

In the meanwhile I had also thought of an alternative way out, different from the route those guys thought I would be on. At Mori, I thanked the guys who had given me a ride; withdrew some money from the atm, wore a jacket inside out and walked out of the town.

Two roads bifurcate at Mori, one going to Shimla & the other to Purola. There is a Forest Department office at the intersection from where I could not be visible even if someone had tried to follow me. I was ecstatic, realising I might be out of danger. I bought a bottle of water & a packet of glucose biscuits.

The first mode of transport that appeared was a small auto meant to haul luggage. I hitchhiked to Purola, 35 kms away. We stopped for food at the main market, right opposite the Police Chowki. The dhaba wala was astounded to see me struggle for every step, I ate in a haphazard manner. My head started spinning awkwardly, perhaps with the zillion thoughts crossing my mind.

I decided to stay here in Purola and decide my next course of action. It was a shabby little room but felt like luxury, I was free. I had posted about this incident on twitter, with a single tweet and ending with I’m alright. Serendipity ensured the best part of a week was spent recuperating at a serene place near Uttarkashi. Perhaps, that description of beauty would require another post.

Read : Doing the unthinkable – Solo Trekking to Zanskar

Let me here take the opportunity to thank these twitter friends. I might have never recovered from the initial shock, but for them. For calling me and letting me cry. For making me believe in the goodness of strangers again & For convincing me to do what thyurbanmonk said.

It would be a travesty to try and thank Pallavi auntie, Michael & Pranav for everything that they did for me. I hope if ever the time of calling comes, I am present to be of any kind of help. I owe my sanity to you, for keeping a stranger in your home and treating him like family.

The choice between hating and forgiving can become the story of your life.

35 Comments Add yours

  1. What a shocking tale, but I am glad you are safe It pains me that hills which were one of the safest travel destinations are also learning from rest of the touristy type places and some people are trying to make a quick buck. I do hope the culprits are caught and brought to book.


    1. It is shocking indeed. I didn’t have the heart to officially report them as I was ‘unofficially’ told that I was lucky enough to have escaped alive from the clutches of murderers.


  2. You are a true star.
    Being able to go through so much and have the courage to write it all, means a lot by itself.

    Hope you’re doing better.



    1. Haha, its fun to read this comment now that the experience is a little blur in my memory.🙂


  3. You’re a true star.

    Having to go through so much and being able to express it all over again. It takes a lot more than I can ever imagine.

    Hope you’re doing better.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. pflead73 says:

    That was so unlucky. I am glad you survived it somehow.


    1. I swear! Unlucky is the right word. But I’m richer for the experience, anyhow🙂


  5. Neelima says:

    What a frightening ordeal! It’s a shame you had to go through the horror in a place as beautiful as this, the villages indeed looks like a land lost in time. Happy to know you are safe and even happier to know that after such a harrowing incident, your good faith in strangers and travel isn’t lost.


    1. I’m sure time is a good healer. Experience is always a good teacher, I guess. I hope my faith in ‘the goodness of strangers’ never wavers.🙂


  6. Nisha says:

    That must have been a terrible experience. I hope you’ve overcome of this incident and be more careful in future.

    I also learnt a lesson.


    1. It was. I hope I can trust my intuition more and perhaps hope that my luck doesn’t desert me again.🙂


  7. Pradeep Kumar says:

    It’s very frightening to hear this because only 3 weeks ago, I was there in Sankri via Purola and Mori.
    My experience was entirely different and the village folk were wonderful and helping.
    Glad you were out of the situation without any more physical damage.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It was frightening indeed. Lets just say I was a trifle unlucky for circumstances to have conspired against me to teach me a lesson to not trust everyone blindly. I have learnt my lesson and these days travel with a little more caution. I am glad to know you had a nice time that side.🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  8. I just can’t believe it………….the lines when the priest asked you about cast made, me to Never Go to such places…the other one is Malana…while SHIA made us all equal then why this Cast thing still existing…no matter how beautiful places like these….ones self respect is of more worth than the egoistic nature of such places (NATURE is SHAKTI and no Humans is above HER)….and of your experience….our earth had such people in old times too…but now things are worst…..people have changed…and it is REALLY nice to see that you made it out….a lesson for all and a reminder to me that NEVER ignore your senses(6th)….and I wish you good-luck for future…may Mother Nature and Mountains look after you…Best Wishes from Dhauladhar ” I Dev Bhumi, While We see Beauty and Indeed Everyone was Nice and Honest…But Now Time Has Changed and there are FEW that now are Good”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Baba. What an enlightening read. Couldn’t agree more. Thanks for the good wishes🙂


  9. Madhura says:

    Shubham! Oh fuck. This pains me. I’m struggling for words here…
    This hould NOT have happended. The Hmalayas are one scared placeaway from all this madness, this should not happen here. I must say you’re a brave soul… kudos to you for having emotionally survived this ordeal. I’m sure it must have cost you every ounce of strength to even blog about this… well done.
    I am still pained though. Heart-breaking tale. A bit disappointed in my heaven Himalayas…


    1. It was disappointing indeed. It was a tough decision when I decided to write about it; I didn’t want travellers to become scared listening to such a tale. I hope my luck never deserts me again :))

      Liked by 1 person

  10. This is one of the scariest tales I have heard. And that it happened to someone I admire so much, makes it so painful. The saving bit is, that they spared your life. An Indian tourist being found murdered wouldn’t have made much noise in that part of the country. But the fact that you kept your wits, and made it out proves, yet again, that you are made of a different grain.

    Peace and more power to you, Shubham.


  11. Hehhee, thank you thank you Pratishtha to find words of praise even amid this gloomy post. I just pray that my luck doesn’t desert me again.


  12. hackernewbie says:

    Fuck! This is unbelieveable!

    I never expected to be like this!
    So glad to know that you made it back safely!

    Another reason to never ignore the gut feeling!!

    Wishing you more wonderful travel ahead!



    1. I totally agree. Sixth sense works. Thanks for the good wishes.

      Liked by 1 person

  13. Kalpanaa says:

    My goodness! What a terrible experience. So glad to hear that you’re safe and escaped without too many losses. You certainly kept your wits about you, despite everything.


    1. It was sure scary. I guess we all are blessed with mental strength and good sense when we need it the most.🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  14. asheesh says:

    I am just speechless reading this experience. You are a brave man.
    I am from uttarakhand and it pisses me off reading that all this happened in our own dev bhoomi. Sorry on behalf of people of Uttarakhand.


    1. Thank you Asheesh for the good wishes. I tried my best to let Uttarakhand be good to me by roaming around in Kumaon for a slow travel sojourn but am sad to say ‘A state with amazing natural vistas and culture’ is lacking in basic hospitality. I was troubled everywhere by random people, umm except perhaps Munsyari. It was a one off incident. Where are you from in Uttarakhand?


  15. trablogger says:

    The best thing, you live to tell the story!
    That is a great story, unfortunate that it really happened. Well as someone who didn’t have to go through all these, I can simply tell words like ‘whatever doesn’t kill you, make you stronger’!

    Safe travels.


    1. I agree with those lines, and yes very glad that I somehow lived to tell the story. I am forgetting as a bad dream. Thanks for the kind wishes🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. trablogger says:

        You’re welcome🙂


  16. Vidyut Lokur says:

    This is so unfortunate. Something much milder has happened to me and I get livid everytime I think of this.
    All’s well that ends well.

    By the way, very well written and very gripping.


    1. Aww, what happened mate? I am glad I penned this down, what a crazy memory!


  17. Nikhil Agarwal says:

    My heart was pounding while I was reading the story. It has really disturbed me and I want to share this to all my hiking buddies, because it’s really important for us to realize how much things can go wrong when we are out of luck. Thanks for sharing your dreadful story.


    1. You have summarised that brilliantly. Yes, things can all go horribly wrong when someone is unlucky. Stay safe and happy travels Nikhil.


  18. Stuti says:

    I am yet to come across a weirdo like you, backpackers generally go about with one bag and manage very well in that!! Never have I heard any photographer/travel writer carrying a suitcase. Not following your instinct the next mistake. And by your article I feel you love materialistic things more than life!! The places mentioned above generally have good people and yes I have been there to a few you’ve mentioned, but never can I be a fool to tag along with others if i am solo. Especially if I dont know them at all! 1:3 is a bad ratio and you went ahead with 1:4, like seriously!! Hoping you learnt from your mistakes and am sorry but I just couldnt show any sympathy towRds this incident!


    1. Thanks for the visit Stuti. Yes, it was a stupid decision and how I regret carrying a suitcase. I think it was one mistake after another and then a lot of bad luck. I have been more careful since and try and avoid being totally impromptu with my travels. You are entitled to your opinions🙂 Cheers and happy travels


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