A Paijful Journey to Lasht Yarkhoon

I was a college student. A few days were remaining for our college to be closed for winter vacations. I was happy and thrilled to meet my family specially my mother whom I love the most. I dared to access the principal with an application asking his kind permission to grant me an earlier leave. I became more exited after the application got approved. I went to a local Hotel and asked the manager to make my reservation for Yarkhoon Lasht. He nodded in positive with a soft voice saying yes and then went busy taking down the names and addresses of the passengers staying in his hotel. I relaxed in the chair for some time then suddenly I saw the driver coming upstairs proudly. The drivers are said to be the POILOTS and they enjoy a good social status and respect. It is an honor to have good and friendly relations with them. Simply they are the privileged class. They are perfectly cared by the hotel staff as they earn their livelihood by the passengers brought by them. The driver directed the passengers to get ready tomorrow early in the morning; everyone responded quickly setting their luggage and took all the necessary preparation.

I came back to the hostel and got up early in the morning at 4 o�clock with a fear to be left behind. At about 5 o�clock I was in the hotel again. They Toyota Jeep was ready to leave fully loaded with bags of rice, salt, tea, cottons of banaspati ghee, kerosene oil, wood and what not. Hardly I secured a seat over the top comparatively comfortable than the others. We waited for the driver for some time. He appeared laughingly and advising the conductor to seriously care the goods loaded. He got in checked up the system talking to the passengers and at the same time. We started our long and tough journey. Don�t ask about the fast blowing winds becoming more threatening up to Booni because of the metal road. All the passengers were continuously smoking to avoid the feeling of immense cold. After a brief debate and discussion we agreed to take our lunch in Mastuj. Taking our lunch we got in again. The weather became pleasant and we enjoyed the partially hot glimpses of the sun for some time. Then all of a sudden clouds appeared in the sky and it started raining heavily. The conductor arranged a big plastic sheet and we got refuge in it. We could see nothing except hearing the cries of plastic sheet falling an easy prey to the winds and its scuffle with the drops of rain. No one was ready to bear the suffocating environment under the plastic sheet any more and a decision was made collectively to stay in Zhopoo. At might night the rain stopped. The next day we rushed back to our pre-occupied seats over the top with hands and faces unwashed and hair uncombed. The road from Zhopoo to Lasht is extremely dangerous and the motor moves like a snail. In simple words it is a journey on foot following a jeep moving a head of you. At 3 o�clock PM we reached lasht our destination. The readers may think of it a self made story. No dears it is an unfortunate fact that even in this modern are of technological development we are living the life of pre-historic people. This is the story believe me I myself have experienced several times.

Muhammad Din Chitral
[email protected]