The gneiss-granite rock sample made a heavy sound as my father, Dinabandhu Lahiri, a geologist by profession kept it on the table.
Himalayan Rock Study🪨
He was reviewing the reports on granite that typically originated during the partial melting of the meta sedimentary rocks millions of years ago.
Loads of files always formed a heap around his worktable.
He was making a report on his study on the Garhwal and Kumaon Himalayas.
Supreme Natural Beauty🌸
of Uttarakhand
The Himalayan mountains in this area offer simply breathtaking views of snow, rock, that play hide and seek with a visitor through the curtain of pine, oak and deodar trees under the occasional azure sky.
Encounter at Raneth🤝
Garhwal Himalayas, looks on at the geologists who
were always found clinging to the hills and
rocks for sample collection
My father regularly traveled between Ranikhet and Someshwar as the offices of the Indian Bureau of Mines spread across various small to big towns in this district.
Raneth is situated approximately one kilometer north of Ranikhet, looked picturesque amidst the tall trees of deodar, and circuitous roads.
Mountain Guest House🏠
led to the forests below
A remotely located local guest house was reserved for the members of the team.
My mother and sister joined him for a short excursion. A patch of opening shrouded with trees and shrubs formed the rear of the guest house. A makeshift swing adorned the middle of the small opening, and it was the favorite spot where my mother spent the whole of the late morning with my sister in her lap.
Sound of the crunching pebbles under the approaching footsteps of my father broke her sleep.
Routine Chore Turns Critical⚠️
Raneth with its balcony overhangs presented
a pleasant view when seen from the top
During this time, an American geologist from the United States, Mr. Johnson was also visiting and was working with my father.
Just like every day, my father stuck to his usual routine of coming back for his lunch at the guest house. Mr. Johnson was also with my father that day.
Traces of quartz stuck to a few samples flashed the midday sun and formed silver patterns on the faces of the two walkers.
Dense jungle and the foliage formed a dark canopy over the broken road which slowly climbed.
A Single Shot💥
Due to sudden leopard attacks those days, a Martini rifle hung loosely on my father’s right shoulder, and he had unstrapped it to keep it somewhere when the half sleeved right hand of Mr. Johnson stopped my father on his track.
His left-hand index finger was pointing at my mother. For moments, my father could not figure out anything amiss and looked back at Mr. Johnson.
They stood still and then my father saw it.
My mother by this time had seen them and smiled back and started to dislodge my sister and rise from the swing.
Serpent’s Stance🐍
She was still swaying gently and below her moving feet, there was a gap of about six inches.
To his utter horror, my father saw that a five feet fully grown cobra, dark brown to black, its skin sparkled in the sun lay on the grass.
Its hood slightly raised was staring at the approaching and receding feet of my mother.
With left hand raised, my father asked my mother to stay absolutely still. He flung the canvas bag on the nearest couch and held the cold barrel of the rifle as the index finger of the right hand slid from the butt, gripped the trigger. He aimed the muzzle at her feet.
A Deafening Roar💥
My mother completely stunned, eyebrows arching backward muttered “Did you not get anything else to take aim. Are n’t your prank perhaps overshooting its boundaries.“.
The trigger was pressed, a raucous sound echoed around the guest house and the valley. A flock of birds took flight from a branch on a distant tree.
A bluish smoke left the barrel. My father had served the National Cadet Corps (NCC), in his early twenties and picked up the liking for guns and rifles and had become a sharpshooter in the process. My mother, ashen faced, completely taken aback by the incident, was too, starred at the rifle barrel.
Aftermath🔚
Mr. Johnson and my father covered the broken ground to see what had transpired. The cobra’s sheared head lay about four feet away from its body. My mother clinching my sister to her bosom, rose and looked around and saw the dead snake.
The revolving bullet of the rifle had dismembered the cobra’s head in one clean sweep.
Disclaimer: I do not support harming any living being
table. Mr. Johnson had taken this picture to
capture the memory of this incredible couple
Mother’s quivering lips thanked my father for his presence of mind, his split-second decision.
Multi-faceted Man👨
I had seen him wearing the mantle of a bureaucrat who was busy with strategic meetings and visited foreign countries as an exploration geologist and as a consultant, and he too used to score, a perfect 10 in there.
I look at his picture when I feel both, burnt out and elated. A smiling father, a mentor, cool as a cucumber looks back at me, with a slight smile, “Take it easy, son, just hang in there“.
Inference
Usually I have seen, people of incredible caliber, stay calm, are less pretentious and remain at the top of their emotional intelligence.
✨Life of a Geologist, 1960’s Series 👇
| Part 1 | Life of a Geologist, 1960’s – British Doctor’s Haunted 👻 Circuit House: A 👨👩👦 Family’s Unnerving Experience |
| Part 3 | Life of a Geologist, 1960’s – Father’s 🔥 Passion for 🛩️ Flying: A Journey of Dreams and Adventure 🏕️ |
| Part 4 | Life of a Geologist, 1960’s – Geologist’s 🐕 Canine 👥Companion: Raju the Alsatian |
| Part 5 | Life of a Geologist 1960’s – Rajasthan 🧑🔬🌍 Geologist Adventure: Surviving Floods 🌊 |
SPITFIRE GAUTAM 