One Waterfall That Captured Three Beautiful Phases of My Life
And tied them in a knot
Phase One — Finding freedom
It was the 4th of July, America’s independence day. Glorious sunshine greeted us on our long-distance drive to Niagara, while all eight of us, including a one-year-old, were crammed in a Nissan Pathfinder.
We had rented the car the night before. My husband was the only one with a US driving license, hence one big car.
Renting a car was not our only problem though. There was zero availability of rooms, as expected.
That is what happens when on the last week of June, you suddenly realize — Oh the 4th of July long weekend is approaching, let’s go somewhere!
But we were determined.
My husband and his colleagues had been staying in a Staybridge aparthotel for the past year and had accumulated several thousand points. Using that, we could find a hotel somewhere near Buffalo.
From the inception until the end, everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. But that is also the reason, perhaps, why it’s so memorable.
It was a very different phase of my life.
My husband had been living in Boston, for the past year and I had just joined him a couple of months ago.
For the first time in my life, I had found freedom. Life in India was nothing short of prison. I was a bird in a cage, dreaming of breaking free and soaring high in the sky.
My life’s remote control was with other people.
When I moved to the USA, I became a free bird. I could do whatever I wanted without worrying about other people’s judgments.
So, doing seemingly impossible things was all the more exciting.
We reached our hotel, checked in, left our luggage, and immediately started for Niagara before the fireworks started.
By the time we arrived, there was no parking left. We finally found one on the roof of a multi-storeyed parking garage. It was almost dusk by then.
The first thing that caught my attention was the mist and a roaring sound, the waterfall wasn’t visible yet.
It gave me goosebumps. This is the Niagara Falls I have read about in geography books and I have finally made it here.
The Niagara State Park was packed to the seams with people and oddly, mostly with Indian or Chinese tourists.
The roaring sound became deafening. It was numbing, thrilling, and fascinating. No adjective in the world can describe what I felt.
And nothing in the world could prepare me for what I saw next.
It was a combination of so many emotions. The sheer wall of water cascading down from that height at such a break-necking speed was unnerving. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. It was perilous.
It was getting darker and we still needed to sort out dinner, something we should have planned earlier.
There were long queues for everything, even for toilets, and finding a place to dine in was out of the question. It was as if, we were standing in queues for rations from the relief teams after an earthquake or a flood.
After standing in lines for what seemed like forever, worrying we would miss the fireworks, we managed to grab some bad-quality overpriced food. We were lucky to find any food at all.
With stomachs full, we now headed back towards the fall. It was dark by now and the light show on the waterfall made it look magical.
Around 10:00, the fireworks started. That was spectacular and was worth all the trouble.
After the show was over, everyone started to rush. We walked along with thousands of people towards our parking.
But the night was still young.
We couldn’t retrieve our car from the parking. There was utter chaos and traffic came to a standstill. No car from the parking garage could go out or come in.
People started panicking and some called 911 for rescue as if we were stuck in a horror show.
One particular man was extremely calm though. He took out a blanket and fell asleep on the roof of his car.
The situation didn’t improve and we figured it could take us all night.
One person in our group had a one-year-old. He wanted to take a cab with his kid and wife and return to the hotel. My husband suggested I go with them too.
So I joined them, and we hailed a cab a few blocks from the traffic.
I wish I could say that was it, but it was becoming a never-ending night.
After I reached the hotel, I figured I had left the room key with my husband. I requested a duplicate key from the reception. They agreed but needed to see my ID, which I remembered, had very callously left in the room.
I told them the same. They offered to walk with me and open the door provided I could show them my ID.
It was a true night of errors because I couldn’t find the damn ID.
Shame, fear, and embarrassment made me sweat nervously while I frantically dumped my stuff on the bed in front of a stranger. It then transitioned to anger toward my husband because he was the one who insisted I go back to the hotel to rest. This was far from rest.
Finally, I found it inside a bag, flashed it proudly, and restored my honor. Pfffft!
However, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep without sharing the day's events with anyone. Since it was midnight I figured I would call my mother in India where it was already the next morning.
It was that era before smartphones. So I used my calling card through the hotel’s landline.
The phone rang and a stranger answered: 911, what’s your emergency?
I had no freaking idea how I had called the emergency number. The ISD number for India is +91, and I must have made a mistake.
I was so dumb-struck, I couldn’t even answer.
I blabbered that it was a mistake. I later found out that this is common for many Indians and the people at the emergency services know this.
The moment I hung up the hotel receptionist called to find out why I had called 911. I apologized again.
My husband and his other colleagues returned almost before dawn and the night finally came to an end.
The beauty of the Niagara State Park was revealed the next morning in broad daylight. The grass was so green and velvety.
The next two days were a blur. We wanted to fit in as many things as possible in that short duration.
We walked to Goat Island. Despite the long queues, we got into the Maid of the Mist boat tour and the Cave of the Winds tour to walk right up to Bridal Veil Falls and got completely drenched (Niagara Falls is a group of three waterfalls — American Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, and Horseshoe Falls).
The next afternoon, we headed home.
But this trip had started with madness and wouldn’t end without one.
We entered Massachusetts around 8:00 in the evening and were super hungry. We were tired of eating overpriced bad food and wanted to dine somewhere fancy. Our GPS told us there was a Vietnamese restaurant in a village nearby, and it was still open.
The food smelled and looked delicious and made us happy. The waiter gave us a special sauce to taste in a tiny bowl. He did warn us that it was quite hot.
I can not digest spicy food, so I steered clear of the sauce. But some people in our group were adventurous when it came to food. Besides, the ego worked too — we are Indians, after all, and accustomed to very spicy food, how hot can it be?
My husband dipped a fork and licked it. He jumped out of his chair and shook his head vigorously. He recalled later that it was as if someone had dumped molten metal on his tongue.
Another one of our group thought he was being dramatic, and decided to try a slightly larger portion. He gesticulated wildly, ran to the bathroom, and stayed there for quite a while; when he finally returned, he humbly accepted defeat.
After dinner, and after everyone had recovered, it was almost midnight. We started again for the final leg of our journey and reached home around dawn.
Phase Two — Responsibility knocks
We returned to Niagara the next year in September after Labour Day. In one year, my life had taken a sharp turn. I was expecting my first child.
My sister was also expecting her daughter and our parents flew from India to Boston. Instead of booking them a plane ticket to my sisters in Michigan, we met in Niagara which was exactly halfway for all of us.
It was a family reunion.
Niagara was a different place altogether in September. That mad rush was gone. We could book a good hotel right near the park.
It was deserted.
This time we couldn’t do all those gazillion things we did a year ago. We walked around a bit and took a boat ride together.
In the evening, we were planning dinner when a Punjabi (from the state of Punjab in India) approached us in front of the park.
He had an Indian restaurant nearby and claimed the food was good. He also offered us a taxi service free of cost. We decided to try.
The restaurant was quite far away, behind a few blocks. There was no way one would have found this place had he not been standing there, advertising. We were amazed at his genius business plan.
He was a Punjabi, so his restaurant had North Indian food but he overheard me wanting Dosa, a South Indian dish. He got me a Dosa from his neighboring restaurant. It was the epitome of collaboration.
Together they provided us with whatever we wanted and fed us well. It was a good evening.
The next afternoon, it was time to go back. My life was about to change in a few months.
Phase Three — Life comes to a full circle
We went back to Niagara again the next year when my daughter was merely six months old.
It was the end of August and the place was getting quieter. We had taken a road trip to my sister's place in Michigan and decided to stop overnight.
I came here when my daughter was inside me so I wanted to come here again with her, to relive those memories.
In one year, much water had flown under the bridge, and my life had changed drastically,
Becoming a mother brought me a sense of responsibility, I had not known before. This was my time to pass on the values I had learned as a child.
I was a bird in a cage, but it was now my responsibility that my daughter understood the value of freedom.
I had not planned any of these trips deliberately but when I look back, they make complete sense. They seemed like three unrelated moments of my life, yet tied in one beautiful knot.
Thanks to Anne Bonfert for this challenge.
Other great stories I loved are:
Tim Ward, Mature Flâneur — The Waterfall That Changed My World.
