Page 219 - Musings 2020

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The Man who Saved 15 and Inspired Millions
Yatharth Gairola 2018B5A40939

‘I could not stop myself from falling off the newly inducted Mil-Mi-17-V5. My brother gave
me a hefty shove, thereby propelling me into a terrifying peregrination with the clouds
beneath…’

Teeming with the mesmerizing beauty, the untamed jungles, the towering peaks, and the holy
temple, the Kedarnath town tempted my family to spend a rewarding and rejuvenating
vacation with it even in the midst of the ravaging monsoon.

We reached the Kedarnath temple’s base camp, Gaurikund, on the eve of 16 June, 2013. We th
were gracefully embraced by the surprisingly pleasant weather in the lap of the great
Himalayas. We were relishing the serene weather at the foothills of the Himalayas hardly
realizing that it was a cataclysm in repose, the lull before the storm.

Rubbing my eyes, I woke up to catch a glimpse of the clouds rising from the indolence,
transforming their hue from white to grey. The air gained momentum, changing its flow from
streamline to turbulent. Contemplating the possibility of a heavy downpour, my father
instructed, “Quickly get ready, Yatharth. Let’s move before it starts to rain”. We wore our
shoes, packed our bags and advanced our way for the 14 KM trek to the great temple of Lord
Shiva, the Kedarnath.

Completing half of the great odyssey, we reached Rambada where we were welcomed by a
sudden outburst of rain. Taking shelter beneath a shop, we were waiting for the rain to slow
down, warming ourselves with a cup of tea. ‘Channnnn…’ my cup of tea slipped from my
hand as I heard a deafening sound of a cloud burst.

We felt the commotion in our surroundings. The Mandakini river raged, flooding the area
extending from the majestic Kedarnath temple(3583m) to the gaurikund region(1982m). A
blustery wind was sending flurries of rain against the window. Humongous landslides, dark
thunderclouds, sudden cloudbursts, tempestuous winds, shattering windows, crying faces, and
frightened hearts – it was not an ordinary indication.

“Jay Hanuman gyan gun sagar…”, I heard my mother pray. “Om namah shivaya, Om namah
shivaya”, I heard my father chant, when suddenly, ‘Chak-chak-chak-ckak…’ the sound of the
great copter, seemed to answer all our prayers bringing with it a ray of good hope in the
Rambada region.

“15 people at a time, 15 people”, the 6 feet army pilot squealed to the disaster victims waiting
to be rescued. My mother dragged me inside, her husband leading the way. Soon after having
a seat in my savior, the Mil-Mi-17-V5, I felt the tremendous ‘g’ force as I rose up with the 4
Quintal whirlybird. Seeing its awe-inspiring blades cut through the gusty air, I was
dumbfounded. Then I saw the copter turn and accelerate towards the safe land of
Rudraprayag.

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