I get off the hook most of the times though. So come Friday evening and even before the boss is gone for the day, you will find me surfing the net for places where I could land for the weekend for recreation. For some reason though going on the tour of caverns is thing which I am ready to do any time. You might say that the credit for this can be given to some DNA in the gene pool that I have inherited from my prehistoric ancestors. I do not know much about these things. Why, I was not so sure of the connection between monkeys and humans till my brother was born!

I have been to Luray Caverns in Virginia, Mammoth Caves in Kentucky and Moaning Caverns in California. I still remember the first time they gave me a helmet, I was a little taken aback. But it is like the safety video they show in the planes - just because they show it at the beginning of the flight does not mean that the plane is going to crash or blow up in mid-air.

There are certain difficulties while wearing a helmet. I was born with a small head (My brother is convinced that a bigger head would have been a mere waste of space considering my bean sized brain) so I have to pull the strap of the helmet to a great extent to keep it in place. My hair is of such a wild nature that at the first hint of slight breeze it looks like a field trampled by a herd of wild elephants. Imagine its state after I take the helmet off. But having no other choice I put it on and join the babbling crowd waiting for the tour guide.

I do not claim to be an expert in English language but I generally understand it when people speak in English. The tour guides however, without a single exception have an accent of their own. First time I wondered for a few moments what language the guide was speaking. I soon figured out on listening carefully that if I listen more carefully, I can get it all.

As soon as you get inside the cave, the guide shepherds the group to one of the remotest corners and points excitedly at one of the stones where the rock formation has caused a ministering angel or a fairy to appear. That guide must be gifted with a divine sight because looking up I can't see anything even remotely resembling an angel. Here I must confess that I am not a particularly imaginative person nor I am proficient in the art of drawing. Why, in school my drawing teacher used to chide me for drawing all humans in the picture with their hands perpendicular to their bodies!! Concentration might have helped but I have lost all power of concentration since I sat for the first Physics class. The result is that I stand looking at the stones helplessly while the rest of the group is admiring the serenity on the face of the angel and excitedly pointing new patterns to each other.

I can however admire the beauty of the rock formations without tracing any definite figures in it. The thought that always crosses my mind as I look at the stalagmite formations created ages back is that Nature is always so patient. It takes centuries for water and soil to weave this magic together in such a beautiful fashion. We can give scientific explanations but can we truly understand the process? Isn't it strange that very few human beings absorb this patience from Nature while the rest of us are busy stamping our foot down and complaining about life when things don't happen the way we want them to be.

I remember that in one of the caves, the guide showed us a very beautiful stalagmite formation and commented that it looked like an inverted tiny fairy tale city. I was not too sure that I would see the things the way she did but when I looked at it, it really looked like a miniature fairy kingdom with slanting shining towers. A hush had fallen on the group as everyone, no doubt, went back to their childhood and into the world of Cinderella and Snow White! I think that two things always have the power to take one back to their childhood - a mother's touch and Nature.

The group trots out of this magic kingdom and further inside the caves. There is lots of clear space around and just when I am laughing at my fear at the beginning of the tour that it might be claustrophobic inside, that the guide takes us to a narrow opening and instructs us to crawl through what she describes as "A fat person's nightmare". I steal a glance at the couple with generous proportions and grimace at this not so courteous remark from the guide when I suddenly realize that the person standing next to me is looking at me with the same she-should-have-been-more-courteous-to-you expression on his face!!

We all make it through the door to the other end though - including the couple and of course myself. The ceiling is a bit low here and I am for once thankful for my short stature as I look at the six feet giant standing uneasily at the end of the group. The guide is not bothered as she points to a barred entrance at the far end and announces cheerily "That is the place where a skeleton was found a few years back." I am not a bundle of nerves but I do not pride myself on nerves of steel either. I have heard of skeletons in cupboard but skeleton in a cave is something new. One practical soul queries "Did they find out who the murderer was?" The man must be either a private detective or a cop because he has assumed without proof that it was a human skeleton that was found and the cause of death was murder, not accident. The guide shrugs her shoulders and we get out of the scene of the crime into another section of the cave.

There the guide shows us a spot where marriages were being conducted in old times. Will you believe it if I tell you that she actually shows us two openings on opposite sides of the center stone through which the bride or groom could get out if they did not favor the alliance? What a brilliant idea!! If we had not lost this shrewdness somewhere along the centuries, the society would have been free of costly divorce proceedings and at least one kind of lawyers long time back.

We now come to what must be the highlight of the tour as can be seen from the eager face of the guide. We all stand around her in a wide clear space and she tells us about how the tours used to be conducted in candle light long time back. We all listen with rapt attention as she describes the pandemonium that reigned supreme once when the candle blew out accidentally. "Can you imagine the total darkness?" she asks us dramatically and out go the lights.

Now it is pitch dark everywhere. There are many an audible gasps. Maybe it is my imagination but with the darkness a distinct chill creeps into the air. Despite the presence of so many people, I cannot say who is standing next to me or if there is anyone next to me at all. Suddenly you feel all alone by yourself and that feeling chills you to the marrow. You think of hundreds of terrors that could rain down on you from the bowels of the caves.

The first thought that comes to my mind is that in detective stories someone is always found dead at the end of such an episode. And so I pray that the guide switch the light on before we hear a scream. Nothing of that kind happens though. People's whispers is all that you hear.

It is when you are plunged into total darkness that you realize how much you have been taking light for granted all along. Humans are so helpless without light. We boast day and night about our powers, our nuclear and biological weapons, our automated machinery but we are nothing when fenced in with darkness from all sides without as much as a stick to feel around with. Maybe all the world's dictators and war-hungry leaders should be kept in a cave for a day in total darkness to make them realize this truth. But it is wishful thinking on my part. Who is to guarantee that I will retain what I have learnt by the time I reach home? We all are born with an uncanny ability to forget things that are learnt this way. I will probably go to bed at night taking for granted that I will wake up and see light all around me the next day.

This total darkness has another dimension though - that of total tranquility. You can here people talk but the voices don't jar on your nerves, they don't invade your space but merge harmoniously to provide a beautiful background to your peaceful world. I feel as if I would give anything to stay there for a few more moments when the lights come back on.

As the entire group heads back to the entrance, I steal a last glance at the rocks and finally see something there - a gentle hand of Mother Nature.