Sudiksha, a curious-three, and I, a slightly-bored-forty, recently traveled together to Ranikhet along with other family members.

“Oh, it’s a long way off. It will take us seven eight hours to get there,” I said.

After about half-an-hour she wanted to know if we were within striking distance. I told her it was still a long way off. She asked the same question within about twenty minutes.

“We’ll get there when it’s dark,” I said.

“Oh, that’s a long way off,” she said.

When we reached the foothills at Kathgodam she was tremendously excited at seeing the hills.

“Will there be snow?” she wanted to know.

“If we’re lucky…” I said, and then to get her in the mood, I inhaled deeply and said, “Hmmm, I’m liking the air!”

As we climbed the hills, she started inhaling deeply and saying, “Salil Tauji, I’m liking the air!”

“That’s nice. How much are you liking it?”

She thought for a moment and said, “More than twenty.”

“When will the road stop going round and round?” she wanted to know next.

“When we have reached Ranikhet.”

“Salil Tauji, now we are going down!”

“That’s because we have to cross a hill before we reach Ranikhet.”

“How many hills do we have to cross?”

“Three more,” I guessed.

“Hmmm…I’m liking it!”

We reached when it was dark. Actually we reached well after sundown and Sudiksha wanted to know why we hadn’t reached as soon as it was dark.

The next morning those of us that managed to get up early went out for a short trek to catch the sunrise. Sudiksha was with us. After walking for a kilometer or so she came up to me and said, “Salil Tauji, I’m tired now.”

“Shall we turn back?” I asked.

“No, I was thinking, I could sit on your lap,” she said.

I hoisted her on my wheelchair and she sat astride on my lap. She inhaled deeply and said, “Hmmm…I’m liking it!”

We were staying in the cantonment and the trees had various signs. I’d read them aloud in a sing song way.

“Is this a new song?” Sudiksha asked me as I read out, “Ped dharaa ka bhushan hai, karta dur pradushan hai.”

“Yes,” I said hoping she’d join in.

“It’s a funny song. Stop singing it tauji.”

Then I found a nice one and started singing again, “Dharti ki yahi pukaar, Vriksha se karo mera uddhaar.”

“Has the earth caught a cold, tauji?” Sudiksha inquired, after hearing hte lyrics a few times.

“Why?”

“Because they are saying to apply Vicks.”

In the afternoon we drove to Machkali. The view of the Himalayas was gorgeous and Sudiksha wanted to know the flavour of the snow on the Himalayas. Then, answering her on question she said, “Looks like Vanilla.” I had not thought of Nanda Devi, Trishul, Nand Kot and the Pindari glacier as being vanilla flavoured and the thought was yummy.

We ate at a restaurant that provided an uninhibited view of the Himalayas. The moon was rising from behind the Himalayas and the moment was breathtaking. All of us stood in the balcony, transfixed. The balcony was on a cliff edge and there was a sheer drop of about sixty feet. As we stared hypnotically at the majestic Himalayas, Sudiksha’s voice came through, “Mujhe rabbits ke paas jaa kar susu karna hai!”

I almost feel off my chair. It felt like I had been touched by a Zen master. What a concept – Rabbits ke paas jaa kar susu karna hai. Ever since we’ve returned from Ranikhet I’ve been telling my wife, “Mujhe bhi rabbits ke paas ja kar susu karna hai.” All my education – physics, chemistry, mathematics, geography, history, civics, commerce, business administration, what not – and I had lost track of the real meaning of life.