Alone to the Top: A stupid but challenging Night Hike in my sophomore year

I live in Dharan, which is a half hour drive from its nearest city in the Terai region. The hilly region of Nepal starts from here. One of the highlights of this city is a place called "Chinde Dada," which is famous for the scenic views from the top of the hill. As soon as you reach the top of Chinde Dada, the entire city of Dharan can be seen at its feet. Along with Dharan, you can also see Tarhara and Itahari. The view extends to infinity, especially if you visit at night. The lights of every house in the city can be seen as a masterpiece, like someone planted fireflies instead of rice in a never-ending long field. To reach Chinde Dada, you must first cross the city area. It takes about one and a half hours to walk through the city. After crossing the city, you must walk for about 45 minutes in the jungle, up the hill. Houses will start to appear, and following the road for an additional 30 to 45 minutes will lead you to the top, if you are a fast walker. In total, it takes about 3 hours to reach Chinde Dada on foot. I wanted to go to Chinde Dada with a friend, as I knew the road would be scary even for two people. However, my friend was not interested, so I decided to go alone. I confirmed my decision 20 times before finally going on. I was scared to walk on the road, and the road lights went off for a few minutes, which added to my fear. But I knew that I was a stubborn person who wanted to push myself, and I rarely find myself pushed enough during the day. I wanted my muscles to tear off when I did something. I decided to go out even though I was alone, so since I decided to go, I was also being pushed by my own decision and manliness. I wondered how long I would last, as it was just the beginning of the road. As I walked, the 10-minute walk I had dreamt of, where I would enjoy the houses, roads, and nature, alone, was nowhere to be seen. The only thing on my mind was if I had made the right decision. What if the police caught me on the way? It was around 10 o'clock, and the roads of Dharan are insecure because of street kids who always disturb the passengers. A year ago, when I entered Dharan for the first time, everyone had warned me about the insecurity in this place, especially at night. I was going through all of this as I walked, and my heart would suddenly get dense, even if I saw a person coming towards me. Not to mention, the security officers on the road seemed like they would catch me. Everyone seemed like they were going to attack me and catch me. I was still going on, for I knew deep inside that whoever I encountered would be a new person and a new chance to communicate a real situation. I believe that even fools can be maintained by a good conversation. As I walked, sometimes the darkness would slowly enveloped me, and I could only rely on the light of my mobile phone for guidance. Along with darkness, I was also afraid of the stray dogs that roamed the streets. I knew that a single dog would not pose a problem, but I soon realized that they often formed groups and claimed their territory. At every chowk, there were about 4 to 5 dogs, barking at anyone who dared to cross their path. The number of vehicles on the road also decreased, and I could only see one every 10 minutes or so. I was also aware of the potential danger of the street kids who disturbed the passengers and the insecurity of the roads at night. I was being barked at by stray dogs and watched by the drivers and some passersby. I was wearing a big red jacket and a half pant, and I knew it was still cold out. The wind was getting sharper, but I was sweating. I was moving faster than my usual pace, wanting to cross the city as soon as possible because it was already night, and I did not want to get involved with the officers. I was about 1 hour away from my home. I had been to Chinde Dada before, but my memories were hazy as I had crossed the city in a tempo last time. As I walked, I encountered a fork in the road where I was supposed to take a left turn, but I was uncertain of the direction. The streets were eerily empty, and I feared that I would get lost in the abyss of darkness. But fate intervened, as I stumbled upon two wanderers who were about to enter a home. I urgently signaled for their attention and they saw me. "I need to reach Chinde Dada, can you please show me the way?" I asked. "Where do you stay?" one of them queried. "Down in Sampang Chowk," I replied. "Go straight from here and take a left turn at 'Zero Point', you will see a bridge. Climb up from there," the other one instructed. "Thank you," I said gratefully. "Be careful on the way, it's incredibly dark. Why are you going up there?" the first one inquired again. I hesitated to answer, as I myself was unaware of the true reason for my journey. "Just going," I said with a forced smile. "Take care then," they said. "I will, thank you very much," I replied, before continuing on my perilous journey. The darkness ahead was daunting, but I was determined to reach my destination and witness the breathtaking view from the top. As I continued on my journey, I found myself becoming calmer. For the first time in an hour, I felt humble and even considered staying with the two wanderers I had encountered earlier. I began to question my decision to go alone, and my energy began to wane. One side of my brain was consumed with thoughts of how I could return home safely. I reached 'Zero Point' and my mind began to race again. "What if I return now? I've already walked enough for today. It's my first time outside in the dark, so it's okay if I don't complete the journey today. I can't possibly go that far. There are street lights here and I'm scared, but there won't be any street lights once I enter the jungle. What will I do then? Maybe today I should just go to the end of the city and attempt the whole thing again next time? I think I was stupid about this decision. There are other things you can grow from, and what am I getting from this trip?" I have always been attracted to people who learn by pushing themselves. I have a deep respect for people who grow by pushing themselves in small things in life. The best way to push yourself and know your limits is when you are alone. I have a great dream of going out alone without any destination in mind, just to work hard daily and grow from every possible experience. I remembered the days when I was at home. My mother would be resting in bed and I would talk to her but I couldn't sit still. I always wanted to do something. I never wanted my time to pass without me doing something. When I found nothing to do, I would move from one corner of a room to the other, letting my mind wander in its fantasies. My mother would suddenly stop talking and shout at me, telling me to stay on the bed. Still, I couldn't stay down because I just wasn't capable of it. It was at those times when I had nothing to do that I would go out and make my own archery set and start hitting a tree. I did it so many times that I can now make a very good primitive bow and arrow. Today's decision was supposed to be a first step towards my goal of going out alone. As I was about to leave the town, I realized I had taken the wrong turn and had walked too far. I slowed down and looked around for anyone who could help me find my way back to my destination, Zero Point. Luckily, I spotted a man who appeared to be around my age, engrossed in his mobile phone and standing outside a house. I approached him and asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me where Zero Point is?" The boy, who was slightly smaller than me, gave me directions to return to Zero Point. After walking for a few more minutes, I came across a man who was stumbling and unsteady. He was thin, around 40 years old and wearing a hat. It was clear that he was drunk. He slurred, "I...am trying to...find...a giant football...have you seen it...boy?" I knew he needed help and I decided to assist him. "Do you remember anything else?" I asked him, trying to gather more information about where he needed to go. He muttered something about a big tree and a temple. With this information, I held his hand and guided him to a peepal tree and temple nearby. He was coming with me but I needed to push him a little to reach the temple. I was already tired and it was getting late. I wanted to leave him there and asked him if I could go. But he was still unsure about where he needed to go. He kept talking about the giant football and didn't seem to remember anything else. I was afraid of getting caught by the police and didn't know what to do. I thought of taking him to the police station, but he got a hint of my plan and refused to go. I was starting to feel scared myself and it was already eleven. I told him that I would have to leave him there if he wouldn't go to the police station. To my surprise, he told me to go. I asked him to take care and then left towards the left turn that I had been searching for. He sat there at the temple, and as I moved away, my mind began to chatter again. "Maybe he was in the habit of drinking daily and getting home late. I think he didn't need help in the first place. Did I do the right thing by letting him go all alone in the middle of the night? Where will he go now? On the temple? What if the police get him? It would be better if they did, at least he would be safe. What is wrong with people like him? Why do they drink so late? Are their lives so bad that they need to drink every day? How would I know about their lives? After all, I am a gifted person. I was gifted with strong and independent parents who taught me to dream. Where would they get this privilege?" As I reached the bridge, I sat there for a few minutes, and thought about all the dogs that had barked at me. About 50 dogs had trained me that day, and I was no longer afraid of them. I had learned the phrase "A barking dog seldom bites." I thought about Pushkar Sah, who had cycled the world, and "Sadguru," who had gone out in his early days in search of knowledge. They motivated me to believe that the night was not scary, and if they could travel every day at night, why couldn't I do it for one day? But little did I know, the real test of my courage was yet to come. As I crossed the bridge, there was a hotel just off the bridge, and I was scared by the pet dog that suddenly barked at me while crossing. I crossed the hotel and was now stunned. The moonlight was very dim, and the dense darkness that followed was something out of my imagination. There was nothing but darkness. I realized the difference between walking in a streetlight and getting afraid of the police and dogs versus the darkness. This was complete horror. I walked a few steps and, after I could walk no more, I decided to sit down and think it over. I turned my light on and focused it in one direction, then in another direction, just to make sure that no spirits, wild animals, or snakes were coming from any direction. I was sure I couldn't go on. My motivations had been working until now, but I was blank now. This was a completely different dimension of fear that I was facing. Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the bushes. My heart started pounding as I aimed my flashlight in the direction of the noise. To my surprise, it was a rabbit, staying peacefully. I let out a sigh of relief and realized that fear can play tricks on the mind. Then I remembered one of my elder brothers who had just graduated from college. He was the one with whom I had been here for the first time. Vijay Kumar Sedhain, whom I had always admired and respected for his outstanding leadership. He was the most dedicated, hardworking, and transparent person I had ever seen in my life. I would ask him a question at 4 in the afternoon, and he would search for the answer the whole night and then answer me at 3 in the morning. He would call me and say "Ashutosh, do you remember the question you asked me yesterday? I got the answer. The answer is..." He was an ideal man. He had the energy of hundreds of me combined together. He had told me the last time we were here that he would come here every time he felt down. As I closed my eyes and sat there, memories flooded my mind. I thought of the things he had said to me, my friends, my parents, and the decision I had made. I tried to clear my mind, but the fear of the unknown was overwhelming. I imagined a person staring up at a small tree with two branches and an animal peering out from the bushes. The darkness of the jungle was increasing as I ventured deeper. The turns in the road and the bamboo bushes were terrifying. I thought I would eventually grow accustomed to the fear, but it never happened. My mind was focused on one thing: reaching the top no matter what. When the fear became too much, I found a spot where the bushes were low and the moonlight was bright. I sat on the road and gazed at the city below, the lights stretching out into infinity. The view would have been beautiful, had I not been alone and afraid. My senses were heightened, and I couldn't appreciate the beauty of the surroundings. I walked for about 40 minutes, my senses on high alert. The darkness was overwhelming, but the occasional hint of moonlight provided some relief. I walked quickly through the dark parts of the jungle and never wanted the moonlit parts to end. Finally, I saw the first house on the hill, and I knew that safety was within reach. The sight of the house made me feel secure and I couldn't wait to get closer. It took me another 10 minutes to reach it, but I was already feeling lighter. As I continued walking, I saw a sign on the side of the road that read "Welcome to Chinde Dada." I was overjoyed and jumped for joy. But then I realized that my legs were giving out and my water bottle was almost empty. I still had 20 minutes to go to reach the top, and my body was starting to feel heavy. My throat was dry and the wind was strong. I had been so focused on my destination that I hadn't paid attention to my physical state until now. The moonlight was clear and illuminated the path ahead, so I no longer needed the light of my mobile phone. I knew that I couldn't turn back, but I was determined to reach the top and ask for a place to rest for the night. I had no money, but I was determined to make it home. I had pushed myself too hard and my stamina was nearly depleted. I loved walking in slippers, but I knew that I would never do it again on another hike after feeling the ache in my feet. Despite the pain, I finally reached the top. I was exhausted, but the view was breathtaking. With nothing left to worry about, I sat down and took in the beauty of being on top of the mountain at 1 o'clock in the night. The wind was strong, but I felt a sense of accomplishment wash over me as I sat there, with my hands wrapped around my chest, feeling both content and regretful for my poor clothing choice. As I sat there for half an hour, I knew that I had to choose between going back the same way, which was too scary for me, or asking someone on the hill for shelter. I refused to do the latter, determined to return home. I couldn't accept that I, who always pushed myself to my limits, would give up that day. I got up and decided to take a shortcut down the mountain that I had heard about but had never taken before. It led me to the first house I had seen on my climb, and I knew that the jungle would be scary once more. But this time, I was ready for it. I turned off my lights and walked down, taking in the city beneath the hill, the dancing trees along the way, and the sky whenever I could. It felt like the most beautiful night ever, and I felt like I belonged there. I no longer wanted to return to the noisy city, and instead wanted to stay near a tree, if possible, become a tree, forever. The jungle path was so beautiful that it healed me in some ways. I was completely surprised and happy, feeling a sense of completion. As the road led me back to the city, the barking dogs and deserted streets that frightened me before, on the contrary, seemed friendly. I passed the temple where I had left that drunk guy, but he was no longer there. The only sound was the sudden gusts of wind that would touch me every 30 seconds, and I couldn't help but laugh. I finally reached my home at 2:45 in the morning and knocked on the door. Ashish came and opened it. I washed my feet and said, "Bro, I did it!" I went to my bed, took the blanket, covered my whole body. As I lay there, I wondered if it had been stupid to go out that day. But in the end, the sense of accomplishment and the memories of that beautiful night made it all worth it. I slept till 11 the next day. Top of Form Bottom of Form