Darjeeling
Darjeeling, now popularly known as Darj, is my destination
for the 2nd time after exactly 10 years. My first visit to
Darjeeling was in the summers of 2010.
I always wanted to go back to The queen of the Himalayas with
Maa, as Maa is extremely fond of mountains,
Thus, after a quick
planning, Maa, me and our extended self, little Cookie, started off to conquer
the Queen of the Hills in the summer ofree 2016. Flights booked, Hotels reserved,
itinerary made, packing done and leaves applied for. An hour’s flight took us from
Kolkata to Bagdogra. A short tiff with the local taxi guys who would drive us
through the 3 hour long journey from Bagdogra to Darjeeling led us to a friendly
driver and his Sumo, thus started the scenic road towards Darjeeling. Though peak
of summers, we expected the road towards Darjeeling warm and humid, thus we
opted for an AC car. Very fortunately, within a few minutes of crossing the
defence area of Bagdogra, the weather got pleasant. At 2.30 in the afternoon
and we were already crisscrossing the tiny portions of tea gardens and huge expanses
of greenery. I was deeply amazed at nature’s myriad behaviour, a different
terrain, a different weather, different lifestyle and different people all in
just an hour’s flight distance. While people were sweating it out at Kolkata’s
blazing heat, we were lucky to have escaped for a short trip to the heavens.
For quite some
distance the landscape was only that of army and Air force trucks, defence
areas under strict vigil, Indian Army buses plying with officers and school
children. The roads were clean, infrastructure good and traffic duly followed,
all courtesy the huge defence area of Bagdogra.
As we started uphill houses and civilization were slowly diminishing,
while the shades of green was getting even more darker and denser. There was an
area which we crossed, which was only but tea gardens both on the right and
left side of the road. Huge water sprinklers watering the shrubs which derive
the costliest beverage of the country. Immense care and caution has been taken
to pluck the 2 young leaves and a bud. Women of all shapes, sizes and age were
busy plucking the leaves with utmost care with deft fingers and aiming it back
at the huge baskets hung on their heads till their back. A few were enjoying
their afternoon siesta under huge trees or tending to infants. Little children
with big round faces, tanned over the bright sun, small yet sparkly eyes and
brownish red cheeks were being naughty with friends, playing or eating under
the colourful umbrellas planked on the grounds, while their parents were busy
at work. They were all busy harvesting the ever so popular Darjeeling tea which
would have to go through a few more processes to yield big money to the owners.
I was wondering, the workers must be getting only peanuts for what the huge tea
conglomerates earn from the world tea market, the most priced Darjeeling tea,
which at times is even equalled to gold. Taking my thoughts along we traverse a
few more tea gardens which is such a feast for the eyes which is habituated
seeing only concrete grey buildings or polluted grey sky. It feels as if the
eyes, body, mind and the soul is undergoing some kind of a spiritual detox which
has already rejuvenated the mind with a completely serene feeling. None of us
were talking while we were travelling except for the occasional “bah, ki
shundor”…..we were unmindful that we had skipped our lunch and were happily
munching on chips and biscuits. After a
serene journey for a couple of hours it was time to traverse the mountains one
by one. Mountains with dense green vegetation and occasional chunks of rocks
pouting out with a slowly streaming water running on it’s surface. Between the
narrow roads and the moutains are a bunch of narrow aluminium and plastic pipes
bunched together carrying water to houses and hotels in far away places up
above the mountains. Except for the occasional tea joint a few more colourful
houses added and a little denser greenery, Darjeeling was almost the same. The
Darjeeling Toy train which is a narrow guage line accompanied us most of our
way up till Darjeeling. The serpentine narrow guage line passes by several
houses, shops, clinics, markets, temples, hotels, hospitals, gardens and
forests tirelessly year after year and is also a part of the world heritage
site. Almost every house in the mountains has a wooden balcony with a gamut of
colourful flowering plants. Pink, purple, red, yellow, orange and blue hues of
the flowers lined in front of every houses whether small or big makes the
Darjeeling houses even more warm, attractive and colourful. Children with
chubby cheeks, colourful sweaters, carelessly tied silky hair playing with
their friends in front of their houses while the mothers in an attempt to
finish their daily chores gossip away to glory.
After a tiring
drive, our driver takes a break and halts for a few minutes at a food stall in
between the tea gardens for a really late lunch, while me and mom sip away some
authentic Darjeeling tea. At around 4.30pm, the setting couldn’t have been
better, perfect weather with an aroma of freshness and greenery amidst the tea
gardens which covered the entire expanse of the sky scape, the weather just
right for a light shawl or an extra layer lightly snugged. The ever winding
roads entwining the gardens as the cars were crisscrossing each other enroute,
Darjeeling, Delo, Gangtok or even further up. While we sipped our cuppa
inbetween wafers and biscuits, we were soaking in the surroundings and
breathing in some exquisite aroma of the freshly brewed beverage mixed with the
mossy and wet aroma of the clouds. Cookie was woke up fresh after his siesta
minus the lunch and was busy shopping for his chocolates and toys in the shop.
While our driver quickly gulped a few morsels, we were all set for a couple of
hour’s drive to our destination. The roads have been diverted as the major
roadways were under repair before the monsoons started. Now the grey sky seemed
even more closer and the tea gardens had a dark shade of green with almost
nobody tending to the gardens and very few people on the road. A few really
scary roads with almost no lights and reflectors and road rollers and heavy
trucks lined on one side was supposedly taking us to the queen of the mountains.
Maa started to worry as it was more than 4 hours that we were travelling, the
surrounding was pitch dark by then and almost nobody on the road except for an
occasional pick up truck or a sumo carrying tourists or locals. Ofcourse not to
miss the indian biker without the coveted helmet to protect his cranium was
found in numbers even in the hilly terrain. A few bikers were either returning
back home from work with a packet of veggies stacked infront of the bike, one
or two bikers were simply wooing their immaculately dressed girl friends for a
joy ride, both without the helmet, hoping that the joyride doesn’t end up to a
disaster. The new genre of adventure bikers were also to be found in good
numbers. Heavily loaded Harley Davidson with equally heavy rucksacks and
armoured till the teeth. It was a mix of both Indians and goras fulfilling
their adventure trips combing across the mountains. Wish I too could spend a
few days like them, with them, living in tents, scooping food out of white
aluminium plates and carrying and using only the basics of life. The looked so
cool, very fulfilled and had the expression of enjoying every moment of their
drive in the chilling weather. While we were tensed sitting inside our 4x4
worrying when would we reach the warm decked up room of our hotel to a cup of
aromatic tea, a cosy bed with layers of quilts and hot and steaming dinner of
choice with an array of vegetarian food, with little oil and a taste to match
our taste buds.. Too many expectations on a tour!! Can I ever lead a nomadic
life with only the basics of life, if ever given an opportunity??
Lo and behold, here
comes the bustling city of Darjeeling, all lighted up, people rushing madly
towards the Mall road, shops busy doing business, tourist cars plying in hordes
as if all the tourists this summer are in darj, Traffic snarl!! Yes you heard
it right, traffic jams in the narrow hilly roads of Darjeeling where one
stretch of the road has a never ending line of 4X4 parked and two more cars
trying to ply up and down the road, while the pedestrians jaywalking and at
their wit’s end to solve a maze on the narrow road running, hopping and jumping
while holding a chain of hands of their mother, father, children, neighbour,
friends, in-laws and by mistake a passer-by too. Though it was a painful sight
and quite a pollution for the eyes, but
it also gave us a relief thinking that our hotel is just a few minutes away
from the bustling city centre. The drivers asks for direction and takes us to a
really steep road leading to our hotel. I almost yelled thinking how would this
huge car make to the really steep road which was almost touching my nose..But
yes, nobody can beat their driving skills, proficient hands, manouevering the
wheels with elan took us to the door steps of our hotel.
Well the pictures
in the internet spoke about the strategic location of this hotel almost on the
lap of nature. I was expecting a house on the clouds, where i could only see
mountains and greenery from every nook and corner and every creek and crevice
of the hotel. But this too is not bad, wondering how did they manage such a
huge structure on the this narrow road cutting the body of the mountains. The
hotel was just perfect, it greeted with a wide white flight of stairs leading
to the hotel lobby with a huge collection of orchids and exotic flowering
plants all over. I could actually touch the cloud just before entering the
lobby which was dimly lit with a all wooden structures, heritage furnitures, a
huge grand father piano and many more interesting artefacts scattered
artistically. Was wondering how many trees had to make their way for this one
huge wooden lobby with teak flooring and ceiling and all the wooden
spectacles? After doing the formalities
we were craving to enter our room and make ourselves comfortable after a
nearly an 8 hour journey from home. It
was ok even if I could n’t see the Himalayas or the pristine white sheets of
show covered kanchendzonga from the window of my room or the bed wasn’t soft as
a feather. All I wanted was a decent
room with a clean bathroom and the basics, that was the need of the hour, here
comes the basics of life!! Well the room and the hotel staff were more than
elegant and courteous than the need of the hour. All three of us dashed towards
the door as the bell boy opened the lock and we crashed at our comfortable
zones. Maa and cookie chose the bed, while I chose the extra large arm chair
next to the window. Cookie opened the TV, I checked for the camera, while maa
digged a few currency, handed over and shooed the bell boy away. We all fell
into a deep slumber where we were all up and awake but were too tired to speak
or to react. I slowly crawled to the table and tried making 2 cups of pure
indulgence, cookie came running, pounced and slurped away all the sugar cubes
like a monkey would while on starvation. Maa and me enjoyed sheer indulgence
convinced that Darj teas are best when un-sweetened, maternity adjustment to
circumstances is it? While I was asking Maa to get ready for a short walk at
the Mall as we had a couple of hours to go before the safe zone of 2 women
traveller with a child in the hills. Maa was trying to convice me to get ready
first. I was taking my own time to relish the warm cuppa amidst incessant
chattering of Doraemon and Nobita. The world hasn’t changed much for Cookie in
the last 8 hours as he still has Doraemon and Nobita for company, his red lightning
Mc. Queen bag full of cars, Marvel comics, drawing books and crayons, mom as
his punching bag and a packet of French fries which ranges from crispy hot
straight from the over to cold, soft and mashy yellow pieces of starch strewn
with white specks of salt and blood red ketchup. Do not know when will this
little devil match up to the taste buds of his over nourished dad and mom and
kick the shit out of the friends who bully him for his slurring speech.
Cookie’s electric blue bag with neon borders and colourful ice creams pasted
all over has been his companion for most of his tours for the past couple of
years. He packs his own bag with colourful undies, socks, cars, toys, watches,
comics and jeans. Every hour of packing he keeps adding his favourite gizmos
only to be removed at night when he is deep asleep dreaming of his play things
in a new destination.
After an hour of me cajoling Maa to get ready and Maa
convincing me to leave the camera and phone aside, did we finally manage to set
our foot out fully armoured till our teeth. Cookie was resembling like a tiny
robot wrapped in layers of woollens just out of an extra terrestrial planet
doing the lead role in a sci-fi movie, while me and maa had a modest layer of
two woollens and a stole to accompany with and ofcourse woollen socks and
gloves and a bag full of extra woollens if needed on the way. Slowly as we
crawled out of our cosy interiors, out in the open, a gush of cool breeze
cooled the tip of my nose and I realized it went numb after a few minutes. The
extra steep lane from our hotel gate to the main road was wet and slippery with
the water suppliers delivering tank loads of water to every house or hotel. The
roads were dimly lit and was most conducive for Cookie to run, slide and glide
along the lane straight till the main road where he used his manual brake to
halt and look at us behind. Maa was trying to avoid sliding and gliding and was
carefully stepping with an occasional right and a left twist of sides so as to
avoid an embarrassing fall rolling down the road. I was quite perplexed,
whether to run behind cookie and pull him by his woollen hoody or ears which
ever I could catch hold of at first, or to hold Maa’s hand and tread slowly
with a bagfull of sweaters, camera, food for cookie and my own layers of
woollens to manage. I decided to go back and forth and while I was scolding
Cookie at the top of my voice for gliding down the lane, I just realized Maa
was scolding me to choose a hotel with an extra steep climb as Maa was worried
about the ascent back to the Hotel. Life is all but a vicious cycle!!
Darj after a decade
The only distinct change now in Darj, was that a few parts
of the roads were in a pitiable state. There was no safety measures, labourers
were constructing new roads almost manually with no mechanical support. The
beautiful landscapes of Darjeeling framed with pine trees were now clouded with
thick black smoke bellowing out in a tryst to make fresh new asphalt roads.
Wooden logs gathered in huge quantities and piled next to trees marked reserved
with red and white paint, only to be burnt mercilessly to make way for the new
roads to heaven!! A necessary evil, is there no other way to create new and
safer roads which would weigh a little lighter on nature? Darjeeling, the
quaint little hill station in the east is no more a tourist’s delight as the
roads were cramped with a series of big cars ferrying passengers, tourists
thronged the roads and were walking in hordes as if there was some kind of
celebration in the hills, there were garbage and muck lying at almost every
corner of the road. Little restaurants and shops with necessities were making
brisk business. Little did it resemble a hill station with innocent and simple
people with smiles on their lips and a helpful hand. My heart missed a beat
when I saw the Old Post office building which has been done in a very old
English stule with open bricks and mortar. Perhaps the only structure that I
remembered and is still unchanged when me and Anindya stayed here for a night a
decade back on our way to Kalimpong. The race which has won the “survival of
the fittest” tag, the omnipresent Marwaris are to be found all over Darj
flourishing with their business acumen teaching the locals a few thing or two
about entrepreneurship . Garments, vegetarian restaurants, tea boutiques, novelty
shops, sweet meat shops, you name it and you will find a Marwari with a huge
belly bossing around his employees behind the cash counter. Where are the
localites? What do they do for a living? Do the local men only drive cars and
work as employees at shops in their own land and be happy with the little that
they earn, drink and be merry and return back home with a soulful song to have
dinner and call it a successful day? The only silver lining to the roads were
heaps of silvery white snow piled at different places. Cookie saw heaps of snow
for the first time in his life and ran towards it to make a snow man with a
carrot nose. I had to snatch both him and his idea of building a snowman as the
roads were piled with garbage and sewage and thick black water peeping and
dripping from open drains. I was quite embarrassed to showcase this state of
Darjeeling to Maa, as she had high expectations from this queen of the mountains.
Slowly as we were walking on the road, crossing a dark and dingy bridge beside
which was one of the oldest structure of Darjeeling with a huge clock hanging
on it’s wall which was dysfunctional and was narrating the sorry state of the once
beautiful hill station. A sudden power cut left us stranded on the road for a
while as the entire area went pitch dark and we did not know if there was a
muddy puddle ahead or a stair. All three of us huddled together and held our
hands and stuck to each other for a while. The locals continued walking
confidently even in the dark, god only save them from a fall. With the power
back, we decided to just walk around the adjoining area and skipped the Mall
road. We took the extremely narrow stairs which led us to the road below the
bridge which seemed a little clean and a few decent shops. The stairs were so
narrow, that I couldn’t place a single feet properly. Maa was again trying her
left and right twists to avoid a fall and Cookie as usual wanted to take the
flight alone leaving my hands in a jerk. I was again in a difficult situation,
whether to accompany Maa, hld her hands and get her carefully down the flight
of stairs or to chase Cookie and pounce on him to stop him from having a bad
fall in the dimly lit streets. Nathmulls the tea boutique standed a testimony
to time with it’s green and yellow banner with several new shops and
establishments around. We zoomed into a snack shop selling Marwari sweets and
savouries and bought a few of the delicacies to carry back home. We sipped on a
cuppa exquisite Darj tea while cookie chose to have a plate of guess what?
French fries for the Nth time during the day. We decided to return back to the
hotel as it was almost 9pm and most of the shops were closing down and the
roads were getting deserted. Cookie started peeling out his layers and so did
we as we realised that now getting uphill will be a task that needs to be
accomplished. Wading through pot holes, muck and muddy puddle we reached the
lane leading to our hotel. Little did we realise that the little road which
looked steep would actually be so cumbersome. Just a few steps and I was
panting for breath already. With all the bags, packets, bottled water and
camera, Cookie refused to walk the steep lane and ordered me to pick him up. I
was in a fix, it was an impossible task to carry cookie on my lap as I myself
couldn’t walk a few steps without huffing and puffing. Maa was in an extremely
pitiable state and completely out of breath, I did n’t know how to help her
scale the tiny little hill. We decided to walk 5 steps and rest for a minute
and then repeat till we reach the hotel entrance. Our spirits were dampened
when we saw a sixty plus elderly lady carry a filled LPG cylinder on her head
and confidently walk straight uphill on the steep road towards the hotel and
further up. This little incident helped Maa not to stop any further and walk
straight till she reached the hotel. I was pleading Maa to halt as usual as she
was already out of breath and might have difficulty in breathing once we reach
up. Me and Cookie could not match up with Maa’s pace as she was walking
condidently though with great difficulty. I could hear Maa asking me not to
stop and do it at one go. I started doubting my fitness level. Was it
exhaustion of the day, strength of one’s mind or sheer lack of oxygen? Maa
reached first post which cookie greeted me to the sight of him evacuating his
urinary bladder and watering the yellow flowering plants at the entrance of the
hotel. I pretended to disown him for a while and started taking the stairs to
the lobby. Though I was walking but my legs were frozen at the same place. Maa
and Cookie already entered the lobby while I was still at the stairs with numb
legs and heavy lungs which refused to move a single inch and thus I was
pretending to appreciate the scenic view for a while. Too embarrassed to see
eye to eye with Maa and cookie who were waiting for me in the lobby and
enquiring about the itinerary for the next day, I picked the keys and entered
the room in full speed.
We ordered for a soulful piping hot dinner and fell asleep
even before the food could reach our stomach. Good night and good dreams as
tomorrow is going to be a better day with a bright new sunshine and new places
to be conquered.
Two leaves and a bud
At Darjeeling and not exploring a Tea garden? That is sin.
Our driver took us to some remote tea gardens which had almost no tourist and
were beautifully landscaped and manicured gardens. A shop or two within the
garden estate were selling various blends of orange pekoe, CTC and green leaf
at premium prices. The Happy Valley Tea Estate literally made us happy with the
lush greenery around that we couldn’t stop admiring the beauty of the gardens
on the lap of the mountain. An occassional whiff of clouds touching us with
it’s humid feel and making us realize that we are at a place which is pure and
divine. While the ambience gets a little dark and grey for a second while the thick
mossy aroma of the clouds make a take a deeper breath. Nature’s blessings in
various forms. Maa plucked two leaves and a bud from one of the garden to
experience the feel of plucking tea leaves. I could sense Maa was deciding to
sun-dry the tea leaves at home and try making a few cuppa of tea processed in her terrace and kitchen. The
tea connossiuer that Maa is, I often tell Maa that as kids are often lured with
candies and kidnapped, so can Maa be lured with cups of tea at any time of the
day. After visiting quite a few gardens and boutiques we stacked our bags with
a half yearly supply of tea of different variety. A few to be gifted and a few
for our own use. The taught us how to smell the tea leaves while they brewed
the leaves with milk and without milk to offer us samples of their home grown
tea. Take a handful of dried and processed tea leaves close your fist and make
a small opening only to put in some hot vapour from your mouth once or twice
and open your fist a little to smell the mild mossy aroma of their hard work.
While we were trying to perfect the art of smelling the aroma of various tea
leaves, cookie too decided to lay his hands on this newly learnt art and though
that the crunchy leaves are to be chewed post smelling. The motherly instinct
didn’t stop him from chewing thinking if at all these raw tea leaves can help
him build his appetite. With disgust he spit it off and was wondering whether
we too were munching on tea leaves…After a long sampling of teas we were happy
with our buy and made a mental list of people whom we had to gift tea as
souvenirs from Darj. On our way back to Bagdogra, our driver took a short cut
and that is when I saw the factories and manufacturing units of Lipton, Carlton
and Makaibari. All pretty old institutions with huge and sprawling campuses
dedicatedly process tea for the world to savour.
Nature at it’s best
We headed towards the much awaited Padmaja Naidu Himalayan
Zoological Park, a 67 acre zoo at an altitude of 7000 ft above sea level, the
only zoo in the country at this height. The reason for a visit to any zoo is
always because of the kid at home, but Cookie was least interested and bothered
about the animals and snatched my camera time and again to capture frames of
his likes. I was more than happy to hand over my camera to him for he can hone
a skill at an early age. But my reason for discontent was the camera was bigger
than his head, he would sling the camera around his neck, but carry it in his
hand like a pro and run aimlessly towards the short wall of the zoo and point
towards the gorge with hands wide open and shoot the mountains. I was worried
about both the camera and cookie while Maa was shouting her guts out of fury at
the child thinking that the zoo was full of people who would try and lift
Cookie with the camera and elope. Neither Maa, nor Cookie were interested in
animals. Maa was scanning every step of cookie while he was having a ball of a
time with the camera and an occasional chase with me trying to save him and the
camera. While I was trying to release Maa’s stress by narrating the know how’s
of the Zoo and how clean a zoo it was at this height along the Himalayas. Maa
was tired of the narration and the chase and decided to stop over at the coffee
shop for a refreshing cup. I took this opportunity and almost tied Cookie to a
chair in the coffee shop put a packet of wafers inbetween his two wiry legs and
almost wacked the camera for my chance with the shoot. The little devil’s
spirit is never dampened especially when iam in to some endeavour. He followed
me till the lion’s cage and was least scared or bothered about the roaring lion
which was marching past the net of the cage in an extremely aggressive body
language. I could see Maa’s x-ray vision following me and Cookie from the
window of the the Coffee shop till the very end of the zoo. I tried showing
Cookie different animals that he only saw pictures of in books, the the snow
leopard, the clouded leopard, the white leopard, jaguar, the Royal Bengal tiger
etc. But who cares when he could shoot all with his black, bigger than his
torso Nikon. A few on lookers were laughing away to glory looking at Cookie’s
confidence in shooting animals with a body language of a proficient wild life
photographer. A pocket size wonder he is indeed !! amazed at his ability to put
me in distress by his antics always. I knew by now Maa must be crazily worrying
that her daughter and grandson did not end up in the jaws of the animals bound
inside the cages. I hurriedly ran towards Maa inside the coffee shop with
Cookie on my toes only to find her
Tales of Tibetans and
locals
During most of my travels to the hills, I have either
planned or was destined to encounter the Tibetans with their happy and friendly
smiles. This self-sufficient, peace loving community have made Darjeeling their
abode for several years since their escape from their mother land. Everytime I
interact or face a tTibetan, it reminds me of the horror and the pain that
every Tibetan had to go through to flee their birth place. They are so rich in
their culture and heritage, where ever they reside, they make it a point to
leave a mark with their rich art and craft, culinary skills, literary
proficiency, sports and ever growing music and dance. The TIPA at Dharamshala
has carved a name for itself and has been spreading the word of peace and
culture through it’s various performance domestically and internationally. One
fine afternoon, while Maa was sitting next to the woodden window side of our
hotel room and gazing at the colourful Tibetan flags used to ward off evil
against the backdrop of the mighty Himalayas and Cookie on his siesta, I
excused myself for a short walk down the lane with my camera as a companion. I
felt like a free bird for a couple of hours, I was one with myself and nature.
It was a foggy afternoon with youngsters returning from college, children
returning home with their parents, while an elderly couple were collecting small
blocks of wood to arrange for their evening ritual. Neighbourhood women of
different age group sat around the fire place to exchange notes on the talk of
the town while drying their hair or chopping vegetables for their dinner. One
thing common in all the locals was an innocent smile, pinkish red cheeks, a shy
body language and an open heart. The only difference between an elderly person
and a not so old person were several deep lines of wrinkles which grew in
numbers while trying to talk or smile. While I was capturing most of the frames
of their daily lives while chatting with them, I got to learn how simple their
lives were. They still believe in the institution of a huge family with two to
three generations living in the same home though I could also sense that the
current political situation leading to lesser jobs and money and smaller houses
with poor infrastructure were worrying them. The locals were pretty
dissatisfied with the huge number of tourists thronging Darjeeling and
polluting the environment. I walk further down Gandhi road and there it was,
The Himalayan Tibet Museum. Without a second though I bought a ticket and
entered the museum as a friendly Tibetan girl took me inside the building. The
first floor of the building taught Tibetan language in various formats to both
Tibetans and foreigners while the ground floor served as a newly opened museum
showcasing Tibetan art and culture and selling various merchandise. My mind was
refreshed seeing the colourful displays
of Tibet’s history, their religious inclination towards Buddhism, their blind
faith and trust on the Dalai Lama, the living God, their rich and diverse
culture. How hard working could a community be? Coming from a land of yaks and
snow mountains, they have survived the heat of the plains and the hills equally
well. I pick up a few miniature colourful flags of Om Mani Padme Hum, which I
was searching for long along with a few incense and some hand-made pouches and
sketches. How I wish I could buy most of the merchandise and help the Tibetan’s
in their walk to freedom. While an hour’s stay at the little museum, I was the
only tourist for the day. The lady at the counter caught my fancy and we picked
up a really interesting conversation ranging from Buddhism to life in
Darjeeling; Tibet and the art of living in today’s world. She seemed to be very
well versed and proficient with the political affairs in different countries,
including her’s.
My brief visit at
the Tibetan Museum helped me realize that the second resort where we are put up
is also owned by a Tibetan couple. “Hawk’s Nest” is ver delicately nestled at
the footstep of the Himalayas with a grand view of Darjeeling guarded by the
ever magnificient Himalayas. Norbu and his wife both in their fifties own and
take care of their property with their own hands. No wonder it has so much
warmth and hospitality. The resort with close to 8 rooms reeks of a Tibetan
home with a lot of personalisation and attention to details. Tibetans believe in
living life king size. Perhaps we had the best room in the resort with the best
possible view of the town. Hawk’s nest had a little portico with pot full of
orchids and lillies of different colour. Swings of different shapes and sizes
adorned the little garden which offered an unhindered view of the town and the
mountains. While the colourful flowers greeted us to the mini lobby decked with
flowers and a young girl with an equally bright and coy smile. The face of the
young girl at the desk was surrounded by lovely flowers arranged all over the
table and the counter. Thus she herself looked like a bright flower with some
tiny speck of pink lips and red cheeks and two tiny black dots as eyes. She
showed us our room and ensured till the last minute that we found comfort in
that two roomed home. Both the rooms has victorian fire places with huge wooden
bay windows. It was a woodden bunglow with age old teak adorning from the roof
to the floor. Thick teak wood furniture with a british finish were laid all
over the rooms. One could just sit by the window side and spend the entire day
enjoying the scenic beauty of nature, the changing colour of the sky and the
mountain, the endlessly fluttering colourful Buddhist flags. They had a
tastefully done kitchen and dining hall which served fresh out of the oven home
made rotis, rice, ghar ki daal and a basic aloo and paneer ki sabzi served
steamingly hot in humble crockery, food tasted like home, just that this was a
home far away from my home. The taste of organic vegetables cooked fresh by a
humble cook lingered long in my mouth and mind. The cook too learnt the art of
making desi French fries which was a hybrid of the aloo bhaja and the American
crispy frenched potato to appease Cookie’s taste buds. The menu for the day was
set before hand and had very little choices as most of the residents of the
resort preferred eating out while they stayed outdoors most of the time. I
noticed Maa too was enjoying the basic cuisine and was drawing comparison so as
to how we too cook the same stuff at home. To my utter surprise, our next door
neighbours at the resort were known residents, who too stay at the same
apartment and we had built quite a rapport during our Durga Puja Fashion Show
rehearsal at Hiland park. Partha da was travelling with his pretty wife and
daughter and they had just returned from Delo after a brief stay at Kalimpong.
As night was setting, the curtains had to be pulled and the window closed as
there was nothing much on offer now. On call a friendly staff came to re-fill
the coal and wood and light the fire at the fireplace. Yet another struggle to
hold Cookie so that he doesn’t go close to the fire place and start digging the
wood. Cookie was exchanging his stare between his toys and the fire place. Even
before he could execute his brilliant idea I switched on his favourite epic
drama on television, Doraemon and his sordid saga with Nobita. Momentarily
cookie’s attention was on the idiot box while the wood started crackling and
drew his attention again. Maa, unable to handle the stress of Cookie inching
towards the fireplace every minute, decided to pour a few glasses of water on
the amber inferno which was at it’s peak and keep the child safe. Now neither
was there fire nor the risk of Cookie attempting to toss his toys on the fire.
Cookie was surprised as to how a few glasses of water could stop the fire. Thus
started a new set of experiment, he filled all the glasses, his water bottle
and started pouring water by gallons on the fire place. To prevent him and the
resort from further damage, I dragged him to the bedroom which was by then as
warm and cosy as a cocoon and put him to sleep under layers of quilt. While I
was reading out stories from The jungle Book and The Lion King, his silence
gave me an impression that he was fast asleep. But there he was playing with
the wings of a moth as he thought that it was the wings of a brown butterfly which
met with an unfortunate accident. I assured that if he kept the wings
undisturbed, early in the morning the moth would get new wings and fly to a new
destination. Maa joined us soon post her rituals of having medicines and
lotions. Maa was quite unwell during our Darjeeling trip and I was almost on
the verge of cancelling our trip. But Maa decided that she would battle it out
and manage to travel and enjoy our trip to the Hill station of te east inspite
of a painful Herpes infection which had her down just a week back. I was amazed
at Maa’s tenacity to endure pain and then enjoy every moment with us during our
trip. Mrs. Norbu diligently enquired us about our choice of food for our next
meal, ensured that the bed and bathroom were clean and comfortable. I wondered
from where did this elderly lady gather all her strength and stamina. She was
omnipresent in supervising and at times even executing almost all the duties at
the resort. Be it managing accounts at the resort, keeping a tab on all the
guests who were in and out of the resort, menu at the kitchen, tending to the
manicured garden and attending to the laundry at the resort which is quite a
task in hilly areas. I always found her climbing up and down the stairs of the
resort to access various palces of this amazing resort. We spent most of the
post lunch hours at the artistically done up library which was more of a huge
balcony surrounded with glass on all the 3 sides with an amazing collection of
books, magazines and paintings. One could actually lounge around for hours on
the comfortable seating arrangements and surf through the collection. The
library was just next door to our room, thus I spent quite a few solitary
moments in the library leafing over magazines while Cookie was in and out of
the library with his mischievous antics. Maa found a comfortable corner in the
library too and made herself at ease with the books while the glass windows
offered sufficient light.
Peace pagoda
The Peace pagoda in Darjeeling is quite famous, as almost
every tourist coming to the hills makes it a point to pay a visit at the Peace
pagoda. This little Japanese temple believing in Nippon Buddhism is quite an
interesting place. The small wooden stairs leads you to the first floor with a
huge structure of a bronze Buddha decked with colourful lights, flowers,
candles and various offering, Maa and I were very excited to see the chant,
”Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” written there at various places. We being practitioners
of the the Nichiren daishonin’s Buddhism, we too chant the same sutra. While we
were taking rounds of the huge white globe at the peace pagoda, our visit
coincided with their evening prayers. I could see five ardent Japanese devotees
beating the gong and chanting the sutra in rhythm walking towards the peace
pagoda. We were very astonished to see that during their walk from the japanese
temple to the pagoda, they picked up every little thing that caught their eyes.
A pack of used packet of chips, a few dried leaves and cones from the huge pine
trees, dried flowers and every little thing. The campus was immaculately clean.
They opened their slippers and also kept the slippers and shoes of tourists in
proper place and direction while chanting their sutras parallely. They took a
round of the white globe, bowed their head and went back to the temple to
resume their ritual. It was a divine feeling indeed, filled our hearts with a
lot of positivity and vibrance.
The Mall
Every hill station has a mall and they say if you haven’t
met friends or neighbours for long, there are chances that you would catch up
with them at the Darjeeling mall. The
inhouse driver dropped us till the mall. While we walked the stretch, I noticed
the ever famous keventer’s, thus without a hitch we entered keventer’s for a
frothy cup of filtered coffee served in basic brown cups and Cookie maintained
his standard by ordering French fries of a different hue. This tiny little
triangular coffee shop was abuzz with tourists and locals. A huge group from
the northern part of the country were having fun and frolic with their friends
and children and almost occupied all the tables and chairs laid out in the
little terrace. Children were running around with balloons, while the mothers
were discussing at which angle Ranbir Kapoor and Ilena D’cruz were shot for
Barfi at Keventer’s. After a refreshing cuppa we resumed our walk towards the
mall which now was very colourful and lively with shops and establishments.
Dominoe’s and Pizza Hut were doing brisk business though the old timers like Glenary’s
was still live and ticking with their age old cookies, biscuits, rum balls and
liquer chocolates. Glenary’s with it’s rustic white and red interiors has
ramped up with time, thus could survive the competition with the most wanted
brands of the youth. I also saw the huge shop of Das strudio which reminded me
of getting our Kalimpong reel printed while our way back to Kolkata a decade
back. The shop stands testimony to time. Das Studio is one of the oldest studio
of the east which has captured rare frames from the Raj era to visits of
several Hollywood stars and ofcourse a panaromic shot of the sunrise at
Kanchendzonga. Hundreds of people were walking cheerfully towards the mall
looking at times towards their left and their right in astonishment as if it
was time for a first day first show for a typical Bollywood release. I was just
wondering is there no other place to be in the evening except the mall? Well
even before we reached the Mall which was a little uphill, I had to bribe
Cookie with a yellow car, plastic fan, a drawing book, a bike and a few
chocolates so that I didn’t have to carry him on my back. The child was still
unhappy as he did not get a red remote control car as promised and threw
tantrums and threatened to skip his dinner. At last we reached the Mall, the
most happening place in the town where vehicles and two wheelers are prohibited
and every person was scrutinized with a heavy security system. A huge LCD
screen displayed the Nat Geo channel showing different breeds of chimpanzees.
Our one got too excited looking at giant images of Chimpanzees and kept glued
to the screen for a while which again gave us an opportunity to sip on to some
road side green tea. Men and women vendors roamed around the mall with cans of
tea and coffee to offer some relief in the cold and breezy evening. Tourists of
all shapes and sizes were all silently enjoying their trip to the mall. All the
benches were occupied and there was hardly any action on the podium which was
made for some special occasion. We walked down the adjoining local market and
got a wrist band custom made for Cookie with his name weaved in wool. The
makeshift shops sold only woollens at a very reasonable price. Shawls, coats,
sweaters, jackets, leggings, monkey caps and more, they were all selling like
hot cakes. We did a quick round of the market and went back to the city centre
to have a hearty Chinese dinner at the Lunar mall. Though expensive, but by far
the best restaurant in Darjeeling serving an array of cuisine presented neatly
on one’s plate. The interioirs were as good as the service offered by the
staff. Cookie as always, ordered for another plate of French fries(this was his
3rd ortion of French fries for the day) while me and Maa devoured
some heavy starters over a cup of exotic Orange Pekoe. Our friendly and
responsible driver was eagerly waiting to ferry us back to our resort and call
it a day.
Sunrise at Tiger hill
Well, the panoramic view of sunrise at the Tiger Hill never
happened because of several voluntary and involuntary reasons. Our Gorkha
driver who was booked for a memorable sunrise at dawn called us the previous
night to say that his 4X4 broke down and had to spend a couple of days getting
it streamlined. Maa was the happiest person to get the news as she was quite
concerned from the beginning when she got to know that we had to start at 4am
and travel for an hour towards Tiger Hill for the sunrise. Maa was concerned
about the drive which involved hairpin bends amidst dense fog engulfed roads.
So that was the beginning and end of sunrise at Tiger Hills. Thus all the
pictures of sunrise at The Tiger Hills are restricted to the pictures which I
get to see in many a travel magazine and on social sites.
