A trip to North East of India.

Introduction

In July I met with an accident on a trek in the Himalayas. My ankle was hurt, the Peronea Tendon to be precise, and hence I was incapacitated for about two months. It was a time to reflect and remmeber. My time travel took me to the beautiful moments in  my life, most of them experienced on my travels. So with abundant time in hand I decided to write them down. Also many of my good friends and well wishers had suggested this. I start with my trip to North east India in August 2011.

 

 

Part 1: August 4,5 2011

 

 

Pune-Calcutta-Silliguri-Gangtok

There was no definite moment when this trip was planned. It surely was conceived when Sudha and I met in England and formed that bond which fellow countrymen/women coming from a singular culture form when in foreign surroundings. We had often discussed of travelling in India, over a shared meal or on the walk to the university. Once back in India, we used to still only discuss it, over the phone until one fine day in May 2011. A trip to the north east of India was the outcome of this spontaneous conversation. But by this time I had already finalised my Kailas Mansarovar trip in the month of June and hence we decided on July as the month of travel. This was further postponed to August due to my travel fatigue and an impromptu Vaishnodevi trip on my side. Sudha was waiting patiently till then.

August is actually the month of rains and its after effects not just in the north east but all over India and hence not an ideal time to embark on a travel. Well, two crazy girls don’t think about such things, they are all ideas and very little sense. So, on the 4^th of August I boarded a Spicejet Pune-New Delhi-Calcutta flight with no iternery but a Lonely Planet guide tucked under my arm. Absolutely nothing was planned except that we would board the Kanchenjunga express at Sealdeh. Sealdeh is the other big Railway station in Calcutta after Howrah. We would travel till Silliguri and proceed up north to maybe Darjeeling, Kalimpong or Sikkim, anything that catches our fancy.

I reached Dum Dum (officially called Netaji Subhash Chandra airport) around five-ish. As the plane neared Calcutta the Ganges provided one of the most fascinating bird’s eye view I’ve ever seen; she was a thick brown serpentine flowing on a band of tropical green carpet. Calcutta itself had somehow reminded me of Goa with its square water tanks between residential areas of brown sloping roofs and Palm trees poking he sky at every corner. Stepping from the controlled temperature of the aeroplane to the stifling humidity of Calcutta was an experience. At the Exit Sudha was waiting accompanied with a warm, open smile. The momentary awkwardness passed between us; that silence when two friends meet after years and don’t know what should be those first words. A suggestion for tea was made and mutually agreed upon, and in turn as we started the discussion on more practical matters of transport back to the city the creases of conversation were again smoothed into a free flowing companionship. After a nice cup of tea and Sudha, the environmentalist’s frown on the use of plastic cups we boarded an AC bus to Esplanade, the city centre. In the meanwhile Sudha had informed me that Dum Dum airport is actually on the northern outskirts of Calcutta and about an hour from the city centre. Also the usually preferred mode of transport, the metro isn’t convenient as there isn’t a station in the vicinity but for us the bus more than made for it.

This bus ride was to me what a visit to a fair is to a kid; I’m fascinated by Calcutta. I had already decided on spending a couple of days here on my way back, but I still took in the scenes greedily. More about Calcutta in the later part. We reached Esplanade without event. We had entered this old city gradually making our way through the more contemporary suburbs and the scenes to had changed from neon lights announcing ‘Big Bazaars’ to just those rusty browns inviting to modest shops. Here Sudha told me that the opposite side lanes took one to the New Market, setup by the British when Calcutta was the capital of India. We still had time in hand for our train and decided to pop in to Nizam’s for a yummy Paneer roll. Paneer, because I’m a vegetarian. Sudha insisted on the phirni which absolutely delicious. We gorged on the food and satisfied boarded a taxi to Sealdeh. There was a still an hour for the train to arrive and we proceeded to the relevant platform in leisure. The lack of security apparatus struck me after the experience at Pune and New Delhi and Jammu in the last few months. It struck me that terror hasn’t reached here. This place is still what it were probably twenty or thirty years back. Innocent. I’m sure Lord Cornwall and Lord Princep would have been happy to see that who had built the city as ‘London of the east’. The platform was full of people from the north east, easily distinguished as much by their Mandrinised features as by their neat dressing and polished mannerisms. The rush, explained Sudha, was because all the trains to Guwahati which is the gateway to the North eastern states of India run on the same line, passing Silliguri. I pictured the map of India in my mind; there is that small linear mass of land joining the ‘geographical’ West Bengal to the northern part of the same. Malda is one of the places on this landmass, acting as the trading gateway to Bangladesh. One has to pass through Malda to reach Silliguri or rather New Jalpaiguri, the later being the name of the railway station catering to Silliguri. 

New Jalpaiguri has the noise and rush of a junction along with the dust heat of a small industrial town in India. This was a complete contrast to the lush green fields we had woken to in the morning. As the train had neared its final destination, one of our fellow passengers with his gaze on the lush green fields had pointed out the same to us. They were the famous jute plantations. Delighted we had thanked him and one thing had led to a full conversation. When he had known the purpose of this journey, our onset on that old fashioned travel of without purpose, he had exclaimed, “You lucky girls!” That had felt so nice. He informed us that he trained students for various competitive examinations, and even if he wished he was always hard on time, especially leisurely travel. We all commented on his ‘excess’ baggage, there were tomes and tomes in a huge hand bag. I still cannot fathom how he had carried it at all, that bag must have weighed a ton. At the station we said our good byes while he was in deep discussion with a coolie, who was shaking his head solemnly. We moved on in the pursuit of breakfast and a hot cuppa of tea. And in wake of that it had been extremely annoying to discover sugar sprinkled on the bread toast served. To top it Sudha gave me that ‘indulging’ smile when I started brushing them off it. I was surely ready for a more civilized place; breakfast is my favourite meal of the day. Yesterday in a random conversation we had decided on Gangtok as our first destination. As for the rest of Sikkim, we could take it from there.

New Jalpaiguri is the railway station catering to the town of Silliguri which is actually about 5-6 kms away. We travelled this distance in a shared auto which dropped us near the bus station but before we made it to the station, we approached by many touts propositioning to take us in the shared jeeps. I don’t know if it was the early morning lethargy or their convincing powers we decided to take the jeep. We realised our mistake after reaching the vehicle as we were put up at the back of the jeep which wasn’t much bigger than a shoe box and that too without a window. The middle row is supposed to be the best seat with enough leg space, good ventilation and overall comfort. We gained all this knowledge, but at the end of the journey, still better late than never. This coveted seat was occupied by three young men who looked and talked like Sikkim’s, hence maybe this expertise in seat selection. The other passengers were a husband, wife and their teenage son from Calcutta. I should rather say doting parents and the apple of their eye, though it would have been better for the boy if the parents wouldn’t have fed him all their love in the form of breakfast. The poor boy was suffering with motion sickness all the way to Gangtok. All this puking around was getting on to me and I had started to feel queasy. Sudha was doing all the talking to keep up the tempo, but I couldn’t help it, I was terribly uncomfortable. I started to concentrate on the scenery outside, or of what I could see peeping through the various windows. About an hour into the journey the road joined the banks of the River Teesta and we followed her all the way to Gangtok. River Teesta originating at Mt. Kanchenjunga, is the main tributary of Brahmaputra. It serves as a lifeline for the people of Sikkim, West Bengal and Bangladesh. It has been subject of many literary works on its intertwining with the civilization prospering around it. I was also charmed by it. Midway in the journey we actually crossed the famous Teesta Bridge on the river Teesta to reach a place called Teesta. A Teesta Trilogy! There was a break taken here and it started raining heavily here. We encountered a small traffic hold up ahead but twisting and turning, our jeep came out of within a few moments. We reached the crossing for Darjeeling; the road till here had been the alike for both these places. At the state border it was amusing to see the jeep driver pass on a couple of packets Lays to the Octroi officials. Ahead we crossed into Sikkim and reached the town of Rangpo on the border. One by one the passengers started getting down at their destinations and only the doting family and we were left. At Gangtok, we were dropped at the city boundaries beyond which these transit vehicles are not allowed. It had taken about 5-51/2 hours for this journey. By now we had oriented ourselves a little with the geography of Gangtok. We hired a taxi to take us up to the Police headquarters, where most of the Hotels were located and it was just a stone’s throw away from the M.G road, the centre of the town.

Gangtok like any other hill station has a single winding road leading all the way to the top. There is ribbon development all along this road and one can actually see most of the town going up this road. We did likewise. As we climbed this hill the sun came out and the surrounding nature basked in it. We passed some famous defence establishments and their grandeur and pride in their valour filled us with gratification too. There was the gate for the Sikkim Manipal University and a little ahead a FabIndia store too. Taking in the landscape around us, we reached the police head quarters. After a recce of a no of Hotels we settled down. The lunch was had at an aptly named restaurant ‘Hungry jack’. Now siesta was necessary, exploration could wait. The hotel room had a beautiful view of Kanchenjunga, alas not visible now! In this season they drape themselves completely with the fabric of the monsoon clouds. After the rest, the fatigue of the travel had vanished and we proceeded to the ‘popular’ M.G road. The LP told us it was the place to have the evening tea. One wonders the amount of love we Indians have for our father of the nation; every city has one of the main commercial roads named after him. And the road becomes such an integral part of our lives that a day doesn’t pass without taking his name. We also had to chalk out our next step in the trip and as soon as we spotted the Tourist information office we made a beeline for it. The tall, slim elegant lady manning the place was all eagerness that we had ventured during the wrong season to this ‘Switzerland of the east’. All the key tourist places of Sikkim including Nathu La pass and the meadows of the Northern Sikkim were inaccessible due to landslides blocking the approach roads. I had been quite excited about visiting Nathu La as I remembered reading that India’s most famous traveller from the east, Huien Tsang had entered India here. The lady explained to us that March and April are the months to visit Sikkim. Even the famed ‘Sikkim Orchids’ hadn’t bloomed now; as a consolation we could make a day tour around Gangtok visiting a couple of monasteries. We departed with our tails between our legs. We noticed a cafe on the other side of the pavement looking extremely inviting with its wooden panelling and soft lighting. I was dying to have something nice after a day of compromises with food. Sudha was still sceptical if this was the place where she would get a nice cup of tea nevertheless I dragged her in. Selecting a yummy chocolate pastry at the confectionery downstairs we climbed the steps to a terrace overlooking the busy road. Here we ordered a cappuccino for me and tea for Sudha and we sat back enjoying it. The food wasn’t as good as the décor but our conversation more than made for it. Leaving behind the setback of the news we had just heard we moved out in a cheerful stance. The evening sky had painted itself in a kaleidoscope, albeit more in our minds. Conversing between us we had a rough plan chalked out- since we had come this far we would enjoy Gangtok tomorrow, as it is we had thought about visiting Rumtek monastery. We would leave the rest of Sikkim for a later date and move over to north Bengal, an area Sudha had travelled a decade earlier. She had heard a passing conversation about the Bhutan border being close by and we could give it a shot. We could also visit the Jaldhapara and/or Buxar sanctuaries in this region and then move on to North East. Depending upon the time in our hand then we would decide on the states to be covered in this trip. Now suddenly the trip seemed so full of possibilities with adventures lurking at every turn. It gave a spring to our step and going up and down the street a couple of times we bought some memorabilia. A hand fan for me and an umbrella for Sudha, she had forgotten hers in the jeep. Exhausted we had an early night.