The idyllic rhododendron town borrows its name from a 350 year old temple of Shiva, Mukteshwar Dham, situated atop the highest point in the town, within the Indian Veterinary Research Institute campus. Close to the temple precincts lie the overhanging cliffs, Chauli-ki-Jali, which are used for rock climbing and rappelling and provide an excellent view of the valleys below.

The first weekend in April saw soaring temperatures in Delhi and a mere suggestion from a friend was reason enough to pack our bags and board the next available train to Lalkuan in Uttarakhand. Shafiq Bhai was waiting for us with a taxi at the station there and Ajit Ranade joined us as we set off to Mukteshwar on what turned out to be an eventful journey.

We stopped for lunch at the Udipi Restaurant just outside Kathgodam on the road to Bhimtal where I suddenly realised that on one of my many stuporous visits to the washroom in the train I had placed my wallet on the shelf and forgotten all about it on my way out! What a nightmare! I admonished myself for having done such a silly thing. Ajit sought the help of his secretary in Mumbai to report the loss of credit cards to the respective banks. I contacted my friends in the railways to figure out if anything could be done to retrieve the wallet-that too in a weekend. We decided to visit the Kathgodam station.

Mukesh, the station manager, immediately dismissed us, saying no one in his memory had retrieved a loaded wallet after misplacing it on the train. Despite his misgiving he spoke to the corresponding station manager at Lalkuan and learnt to our relief that the train's departure to Delhi had been postponed, it was still on the platform-and promised to get the washroom of B1 coach checked. We rose to leave when Mukesh recalled he had the mobile number of one Pal who was the man in charge of the coach attendants. Pal contacted Jitender, the B1 attendant, who later admitted that he went into the washroom reluctantly as the cleaners had already been there and had never reported anything. But lo and behold, the wallet was unscathed, perched prettily upon the shelf. Jitender immediately called Pal who in turn relayed the good news to us in Kathgodam. Unfortunately, by this time the train had rolled out of the platform and Jitender refused to hand over the wallet to anyone as he wanted to hand it over to me on his return to Kathgodam next morning! None of us could believe that the wallet had been found intact and that a junior employee of the Indian Railways felt responsible enough to want to hand it over in person. A thought crossed our minds that he could as well say that the purse had no money. After all his word was the final verdict. The noble Jitender rekindled our faith in humanity.

We got into the taxi and continued as planned. The road ahead took us past the half-filled Bhimtal Lake and up the tree lined route to Sargha khet. Winding uphill we passed through blooming red rhododendron trees-the profusion was breathtaking. Rhododendron arboreum is one of the most widely distributed species in the world. The tree, often more than 100 feet tall, and has beautiful blood red flowers in large, tight trusses of up to 20 flowers. Each flower in the truss measures about 2 inches across. Some forms at higher elevations are pink or white. The species was introduced into England in 1811 and became a parent of many colourful hybrids, being crossed with hardier species, such as the 'Nobleanum' (caucasicum x arboreum) and the 'Russellianum' (catawbiense x arboreum).
At Sargha khet we were received at the hospital (where I will possibly practice in the future) built by CHIRAG an NGO working in the area on issues of health, environment and employment, by Dr Bisht and the technician, Ram Singh. They showed us around the well designed premises-located on the roadside at a promontory, illuminated by ample natural light. The hospital has been built on land gifted by a local. The setting sun and the red riot of rhododendrons paved our way to the residence of CHIRAG's Executive Director, V K Madhavan. The founder couple of the NGO, Kanhaiya Lal and Dr Lakshmi Iyer live in Sitla about 45 minutes away from Sargha khet.

Situated almost 8,000 feet above sea level, Mukteshwar is among the grandest of the hill stations of Kumaon. The British chose it for its remote location and its cool and clear, dust-free environment to locate a centre for veterinary research. In those days when refrigeration was difficult, the naturally cool climate of Mukteshwar was important for experiments. Consequently, the Indian Veterinary Research Institute (IVRI) was set up and Sir Ronald Ross (who isolated the malaria parasite) worked here on the cattle plague. For many years, the headquarters of the IVRI was based in Mukteshwar-it became a sort of Shangri-la for the community of dedicated scientists. They discouraged tourism and access to the place was so difficult that only those with an active interest in veterinary science and research sought it out. And there were pilgrims of course who came to visit the Shiva temple 'Mukteshwar Dham' that stood in solitary splendour on the town's highest hill.

Today the situation is quite the opposite. Mukteshwar, only two hours away from Kathgodam, is visited by hundreds of tourists. All along, lodges and private estates occupy scenic locales and vehicles busily ply to and fro. Provisions, once painfully carted on horseback or by porters from Nainital and Bhowali, are now readily available. Agricultural activity in the area consists chiefly of potato farming and terraced orchards. The Dham is surrounded by a open paved veranda, in a rough octagon, and tiny bells are strung from the roof that runs around it. Prayer flags flutter in the strong breeze and sometimes the tinkle of the bells is all you can hear in the pristine silence. It is an exquisite and calming experience.

Dinner was with the Lals at their splendid home in Sitla. After spending a memorable evening listening to the grand old pioneers of CHIRAG and gorging on delectable dinner and home grown mulberry dessert we ascended the path leading to the guest house. Little lanterns lit our way and we could see lights shining in Almora in the distance.
Early morning next day I took a walk among the orchards and photographed a cacophony of flighted creatures. Madhavan returned from his jog and we settled down on the verandah with countless cups of tea plied by Aloka. Little Adya was chattering away about her school interspersed with accounts of the laughing thrush who she refers to as 'paagal chiriya' (mad bird) since it always places her nests precariously on slanting rafters. Soon it was time for lunch and then we got ready to leave for Kathgodam.
The taxi took us via Simiyal village, Talla and Malla Rajgarh, Bhowali, Bhimtal and finally to the station. Jitender was there with my wallet. Words failed me as I tried to express my gratitude to this virtuous man, however diminutive and humble he looked. Railways and Indians should be proud of him.