On the road with Rishad

Hot Tea Across India by Rishad Saam Mehta. Published in 2011 by Tranquebar Press, an imprint of westland limited, Venkat Towers, 165, P. H. Road, Maduraroyal, Madras 600095. Pp: 191. Price: Rs 195.

In this collection of 20 short travelogs author Rishad Saam Mehta takes readers with him on his journeys, whether on his beloved Bullet motorcycle or on four or more wheels, recreating the ambience while narrating many an exciting escapade in his breezy, chatty, humorous style. His adventuresome forays into the Himalayas in the north to Kerala in the south or the Rann of Kutch in the west, hitchhiking with truckers or participating in rally driving come alive as the author is an interesting raconteur.

Regarding the title of his collection, Mehta explains: "If there is one certainty about roads in India, it is that — no matter where you are or what the hour — if you want a cup of tea, you’ll find a chai ka dukaan (tea shop) within a few kilometers.” And what a range of teas he has sampled! From a pale greenish liquid with yak’s butter floating on top in a monastery in Ladakh, to the fragrant (albeit chipped) cup laced with ginger and cardamom in Gujarat, to a brew made with freshly drawn full fat, unprocessed buffalo milk at a roadside stall on the Haryana border that made him unbearably uncomfortable, causing his insides to groan audibly until it became imperative for him to void their contents in the dark of the night, squatting unwittingly on the front porch of a dhaba!
Though the Bombay based Mehta graduated as an electronics engineer, he opted to be a travel writer and photographer, working with Autocars India for eight years before taking up freelance assignments. His passions — road trips, adventure sports, history and food, not to mention the reviving cuppa — all find mention in his roadie recollections. On many trips he was accompanied variously by friends Shapur Kotwal, Chetan Popat and a girlfriend, a colleague whom he chooses not to identify.

Rishad Mehta: exciting escapades

Strange things happened on Mehta’s sojourns. Once, while returning from Pahalgam to Jammu he saw a Jammu and Kashmir Police van parked across the road with five policemen standing outside it, pointing loaded rifles at him. He was ordered to stop and hauled roughly toward the inspector who bellowed: "Why haven’t you been stopping at barriers when you were signaled to do so?” He was also asked where his two companions were. Mehta’s explanation that no one had signaled to him to stop, that he was riding solo, angered the officer further and it took the intervention of another police officer who had just arrived to stop the author from being manhandled. It turned out to be a case of mistaken identity as three foreigners riding Bullets, who had been guilty of ignoring the police signal, soon turned up and were apprehended.
On another occasion outside a hotel in Kargil a young man took an interest in Mehta’s Bullet and wanted to know what it would be worth. About Rs 50,000, he was told. Later, there was a knock on the author’s door and a fierce looking bear­ded middle-aged man walked in saying, "My boy likes your bike and I am buying it from you for him. As you’d agreed with him regarding the price, here is Rs 50,000 in cash.” No amount of denials or explanations being acceptable, Mehta beat a hasty retreat, sneaking out of the hotel less than an hour later. Hearing the roar of the bike as he kicked off, the bearded "buyer” appeared at a window, snarled and then rushed out to give chase. Just then the bike stalled. The enraged man was gaining on Mehta when the trusty bike came to life again and the author was able to race off to safety!
Though the book is printed in a clear typeface that is easy on the eyes it loses out in one major respect — there are no visuals of the exciting locales that he, a professional photographer, has visi­­ted! There are also lapses in proof reading. For instance, Mehta mentions that on a cold night in the Himalayan village of Drass the "temperature fell to 60 degrees Centigrade” when he obviously means six degrees centigrade. While acknowledging his debt to her, he does no credit to the teacher "who taught me to wield the English language as a tool to give free reign to humor and imagination” as the idiom should be "free rein.” But go ahead and read the book. It’s a great way for "time pass.” SHERENE VAKIL