Ask anyone from West Bengal the four places they have been
and chances are rife that the commonest answers would be Digha, Puri,
Darjeeling and Santiniketan.
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the first rays of sun |
I have been to Digha twice and Santiniketan once but
Darjeeling and Puri had always been elusive owing to time and financial
constraints. So taking a cue from, “loha garam hai, maar do hatoda” I gave a
quick assent when my namesake and friend called me one fine evening and said,
“Vivek, Darjeeling chalega?” It had hardly been a month since my rendezvous
with the North East and with pockets empty and parents angry, Darjeeling, the
Queen of the Hills, sounded quite out of scope.
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siliguri: a new day has come |
My exams were nearing and I had
promised myself to be engaged with my books for the next many months but the
animal in me was quite alive and it jumped at the very mention of
“chalega?" I forgot all about my exam, the tiredness of the previous
trip, the cash crunch, the roaring parents and called Vivek over to my home to plan the
trip. Within hours, return tickets between Dakshineshwar and New Jalpaiguri and
a room at Hotel Pine Ridge were booked and we heaved a sigh of relief. It was
the middle of November and more than a month had to pass before the D-day, 23rd
of December, 2010.
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discussing all that matters |
With an anxious wait stretching more than a month the night
of 22nd December arrived. I stayed at Vivek’s place and got up early in the
morning to head for the railway station in a taxi, which was hardly ten minutes
away. Getting up early for a journey and walking along the dimly lit streets
with the sun threatening to burst out any moment has always been magical for me
and this was no exception. Our train was quite on time and struggling through
the jam-packed train (Kangchejunga Express) filled with over-enthusiastic
passengers we reached NJP at around 7 in the evening which made it a journey of
exactly 12 hours. Train journeys, which used to be a highlight some time back,
irritate me no ends but considering our light pockets we had little
alternatives.
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shuttle stand near darjeeling more |
The feeling of coming to yet another station for the first
time gave goosebumps. The anticipation of the whole journey that laid in front
of us, the feel of the city, the people, the terrain is always special and
worth treasuring. NJP, though a part of Siliguri, and often called the Gateway
to North East, lies in the district of Jalpaiguri while most of Siliguri is in
Darjeeling district. We chanced upon an almost mad rickshaw puller who promised
to take us to a budget hotel but stopped midway complaining of the distance
from the station. We took an auto till Sewak Road and booked a rickety hotel
(Everest Lodge) for the night. We went to the only multiplex in the city,
CINEMAX, which was almost deserted and had a garden marriage party in progress
nearby. We returned to Sewak Road, ate at a good Punjabi restaurant, Shaan-e-Punjab,
walked around the city, had some tea and when the roads were almost deserted
went to the cold comforts of our hotel. It was a shabby hotel but good enough
to spend the night and for 200 bucks we didn’t stand to complaint either.
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the forested mountain |
We got up early in the morning, took an auto and got down at
a place where the road was lined with shared vehicles that would take
enthusiastic tourists to the hill town. It was tourism season at its peak but
the roads had a deserted look maybe because we had arrived too early. Moreover,
most tourists now head for Gangtok instead to avoid the rush at Darjeeling and
the fear of strikes that GJM calls at the drop of a hat. We had to wait for
quite a while before our vehicle, a TATA Sumo, headed for the fabled town. Our
anticipation grew as the four-wheeler paced its way amidst sleepy homes and the
parallel running 6 feet narrow gauge rail track, telling stories, out loud, of an era that had
gone by. The Toy Train, hauled by steam engines, one of the oldest in operation
in the world, no more plies from Siliguri but from Ghoom.
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on the way to darjeeling |
It wasn’t long before
we left the plains and bypassing the many enormously huge and beautiful tea
gardens spread all around came to Sukna, the mouth of the Mahananda WS, one of the most famous forest expanses housing exotic Himalayan animals. The
tea gardens beyond it looked even more amazing and were reminiscent of the ones I had
seen in the Brahmaputra valley of Assam. The tarmac road running in the middle
of a forest opening to a stretch of lustful tea gardens with a riot of colors
spread like a splash of green by a painter on his canvas looked awesome. It was
one of the most amazing sights of the entire journey.
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view from hooker road |
Sukna had a small
military cantonment owing to which the surrounding areas were smacking clean.
The huge and lofty rocks of Mahabharata range, a part of Lesser Himalayas, rose
abruptly from the plains of Darjeeling traversed by the rivers Mahananda and
its tributaries. What didn’t change was the continuum of the tea gardens and
the lush green forest. Darjeeling is one of the few places in the world which
grows tea right from the plains to high up in the Himalayas at altitudes
greater than 2000 m and has acquired a fame that culminated in it getting the
only Geographical Indicator in India.
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darjeeling railway station, 2200 m |
Unlike in Arunachal where the Himalaya
rose gradually, the rise was quite steep in this part of the world. The small
towns and villages dotting the forested hills could be seen clearly and with abated tiredness despite lack of sleep we continued on our journey. Passengers
kept on moving in and out but we had to go right till the end. Vivek, my
friend, slept for most of the journey till Tindharia, a sleepy hamlet and one
of the stations of the hill railway. It wasn’t long before we came across
Kurseong, a major town in the district.
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road to darjeeling |
The famed Eagle’s Crag and the Television tower was visible
from quite far away but I could not take pictures because of the restless
driver who wouldn’t even stop to let us pee. We passed along many towns, small
and medium, including Tung, Sonada, Jorebunglow and Ghoom before reaching
Darjeeling at about 11 in the morning. The deserted railway track and the rapid
population explosion which had resulted in environmental defoliation were
visible quite apparently and said a sorry tale. Jorebunglow was the town from
where an uphill road took one to the famed Tiger Hill but that was to happen
later in the journey. Ghoom, the penultimate station of the Darjeeling
Himalayan railway is allegedly the highest railway station in India and as we
passed the dusty and misty town we could see a steam engine readying itself
to haul a bunch of enthusiastic passengers who, I knew, would lose their cameras on a
clicking spree at the Batasia loop. A journey, about which I had read and felt so much, was unfolding at a steady pace and seeing all that I had so far only visualized was a delight in itself and quite unparalleled in the world.
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war memorial at batasia loop |
Near the famed Ghoom monastery flanked by the hillock that
had the War Memorial at Batasia we saw a bike rally of Gorkhaland Janmukti
Morcha (GJM). The town has gained widespread notoriety and infamy owing to the
unmindful hartals called by GJM and you never know if you are the unlucky one to bear the misfortune of being stuck up in one such
hartal that brazenly runs for as long as one month. Though, by and large,
tourists have never faced much problem in the hill district, inconvenience
cannot be ruled out totally. Tourism, as such is the backbone of the district
and strikes, small or big, only affect the localities, more than anyone else.
Most people have become wary of it and the participation in the rallies is more out
of compulsion than choice. Darjeeling, since the beginning of the 20th century,
has been crying for a separate state owing to the indifference and apathy of Bengal government
towards their origin and problems. Their demand, which is rightfully
justified, has nonetheless never really risen to the challenge for reasons
aplenty. The Darjeeling Gorkha Hill Council, which was a result of a protest
wave gone violent in the late 1980s, had been much of a disaster and things are
back to status quo.
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inside the ghoom monastery |
I have this bad habit of wavering in uncharted territories
so back to what this blog is all about. It was afternoon when we reached
Darjeeling and a personal achievement of sorts, a dream come true. The air had
a harrowing chill and the uncountable flags of GJM could easily be mistaken for
Buddhist prayer flags. Now was the time to look for the hotel. We asked for
directions and taking an uphill road amidst a seething crowd of Indians and
foreigners alike we reached the road that led to our hotel and also to
Chowrasta, which was hardly a couple of steps from our hotel. I tasted some
chhurpi (smoked cheese made of yak and cattle milk) and though it was as hard as stone, anything to chew in the biting cold was good enough. It was already time for lunch
and we hadn’t eaten a morsel since morning. We got into a restaurant and had
some luchi and aloo dum and a hot cup of Darjeeling tea. That was special
because it was the first time ever I tasted the Champagne of Teas.
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view from the hotel room |
We reached the hotel reception and asked for our room. It
was a nice heritage hotel with exquisite wood work giving it a colonial
look which it certainly was. I asked the lady caretaker since when the hotel had been functioning to which she replied, “I have no exact idea but definitely since the British era.” We were
quite surprised when we entered the room. It had a royal look and one of the
windows directly opened to a stunning view of the valley and the hills. On a clear day one could, am
sure, see the mighty Himalayan peaks but today was no such lucky day. A
tuft of cool air blew in as I opened the window. I could see a mosque nearby
and the muezzin was calling out loud to assemble the faithful. Closing the
window and wiping the mist that had collected on the glass panes I could behold an
amazing sight.
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such classic symbolism |
We rested for a while, took a light bath and rushed
for Chowrasta. We had to see the Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park
which had a good assortment of Himalayan flora and fauna and the Himalayan
Mountaineering Institute (both located in the same campus). The first sight of the very famed Chowrasta was
marvelous. We could see families from far and wide cuddled together and having
adda over hot cups of tea. Children rode ponies and the elderly sat in closed
groups with a disturbing silence. Young people like us paced around in frenzied
steps looking for alternatives. It’s always a case of, “What next?” with us. We
took a road that went straight to the zoo. It was a memorable walk and one of the
highlights of the journey. The Windamere and Mayfair hotels, one of the most
popular in the town laid on the way. We also came across a huge auditorium
where they conducted cultural events and saw the Raj Bhawan too, where the governor
of West Bengal comes for a week or so during the summer. It was a beautiful and
clean city, contrary to what I had been hearing all along from people in the
plains.
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inside hot simulating cafe |
We had hardly walked a kilometer when we bumped across a
café, Hot Simulating Café, a very tiny one and decided to sip a cup of tea. We
had enough time and wanted to let ourselves lose in the flow of the moment. We hadn't got used to the mild taste of Darjeeling tea quite yet but it was about the
occasion and not just the tea. A bunch of foreigners were having a great time
laughing their hearts out. Songs of Bob Marley filled the air and hundreds of his
pictures were stuck on a wall board. It was definitely an amazing place to be and we were enjoying every
bit of our stay there. We headed for the zoo after that. It was a long and easy
walk with the Observatory Hill on one side lined with ancient buildings and
huge trees and the vast expanse of the sky on the other from where you could
see the town enveloped in a hazy blue mist.
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himalayan wolf (critically endangered) |
The zoo was clean and very well
managed. The entry fee was nominal and that included the HMI fare too. We
got to see quite a bountiful of animals which we had never seen in real
including the Snow Leopard, the Himalayan Black Bear, the Himalayan Wolf, the
Himalayan Civet and the famous Red Panda besides a host of other animals and birds. The
Himalayan Monyal and the Slow Loris were elusive while the Himalayan Salamander
had gone into hibernation. The museum at HMI was pretty impressive. It was
established by Tenzing Norgay after his successful attempt of Everest with the
blessings of Nehru. It had an inspiring collection of stories, photographs and
memorabilia from the many expeditions carried by renowned mountaineers in the
Himalayas. By the time we got out it was about to be dark so we bunked the idea
of visiting the Gombu Rock.
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statue of tenzing norgay outside HMI |
It was only around 4 in the evening but it gets dark quite early in the hills and moreover it was winter. We had a meal of omelet
sandwich and some pakoras and headed for Chowrasta via the Singamari road. The
sun was going down slowly spreading its crimson rays through the clouds and presented a beautiful picture. The whole
town would soon be engulfed in darkness and we hurried our steps. We had walked enough for the day so we hired a jeep and
headed for the main bazaar. We thought of going to the Peace Pagoda but someone
told it will take quite some time so we skipped the idea and headed for our
hotel. We bought some woolens and some memorabilia including a Japanese fan, a
painting and a khukri which I had desperately wanted for myself. The night was
getting colder and unbearable and we needed to get warm for sure.
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the city under a blue misty veil |
We headed for
Chowrasta and got a bottle of vodka and took some gulps down our throat. Now
was the time for Glenary. It was Christmas Eve and the restaurants were full of
people making merry. We had a cup of tea and some eatables from the
bakery and went down to the basement at Buzz. It was empty compared
to the bakery above. A couple engaged in wild smooching didn’t mind our
presence. We had some noodles and soup and went back to our hotel. It was one
of the most popular bars in the town and quite a colorful one at that. We had a
few more pegs of vodka and decided to call it a day.
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freezing cold it was |
It was a difficult night
with the temperatures dropping below zero but we woke up with the
same energy we had started our journey with. It was another freezing day but thankfully the geyser was
working fine and the tap water warm. We have a habit of getting up very early
when out of the homely comforts. We had decided to skip the pleasure of
beholding the sunrise from Tiger Hill and see things at our own pace. We had
our morning cup of tea and headed for a clock tower which we could see at a
stone’s throw distance. It was majestic albeit crumbling. A poster by some
local club said it was under renovation.
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darjeeling peace pagoda |
We hired a cab to
take us around because walking to all the places worth a visit was just not
possible. For 700 bucks (bargained down from the original 1200 the driver had
asked for) a three point visit didn’t look bad and more so considering the second point
was the distant Tiger Hill. First it was the majestic Peace Pagoda and the
Nipponzan Myohoji Japanese temple where the Buddhist monk Nichidatsu Fujii had
stayed for quite a while. The spiritual leader was very close to Mahatma Gandhi
and quite a few of bapu’s letters and works were there in the temple. The Peace
Pagoda was quite an imposing structure. It was cluttering cold and we struggled
with our naked legs on the cold concrete stairs of the pagoda. We left the place for Tiger Hill via Batasia, Ghoom and Jorebunglow.
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senchal lake |
It took us almost half an
hour to reach the place and it was such a pleasant journey. We passed
across the Senchal WS which looked straight out from the heavenly pictures we see in our dreams. The dense cluster of trees, the chirping birds, the bushy mountains,
and the sun burnt brown fields gave a surreal look to the place. We were
enjoying every bit of our stay in the hilly town but were quite disappointed
when we finally reached Tiger Hill. At a height of around 2500 m, it was highest
hill in the area and on clear days one could see the Kangchendzonga and even
the Everest from there and that too from the naked eyes but we weren’t that
lucky today (thanks to the blanket of clouds and mist).
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motifs from buddha's life at peace pagoda |
But we could see Darjeeling on a hillock engulfed in a thick veil of fog and believe
me if not for that the visit to Tiger Hill wouldn’t have been worthy enough. We had a
cup of tea going downhill and saw the beautiful Senchal Lake, which supplied most of
Darjeeling’s potable water. We halted next at the Ghoom monastery, not the biggest but
certainly the most famous in the area. Next was the Batasai loop where you had the War
Memorial and the loop where the Toy Train takes a stupendous turn and has been
a topic of much fantastic lore. We were lucky to see the Toy Train zoom past
us making a continuous hoot and bellowing a thick plume of black smoke. Our
driver insisted we go to the Rock Garden and the Ganga Maya Park but asked for
800 bucks more. We decided to skip that and headed for our hotel instead. I was
never fond of parks so didn’t mind missing it but for the small waterfall it
had. On our way the driver showed us the Ava Art Gallery and the Rink Mall,
Darjeeling’s only multiplex and hypermarket.
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ava art gallery |
We had our breakfast at a Marwari restaurant and even bought
some green and black Darjeeling tea. We still had the time of the world
but seeing a movie was never in our mind. We headed for the Mahakal Temple
located near Chowrasta on the Observatory Hill and it was quite a task to get
to the top. There was a small dark cave which had a Shiva shrine where
for the alleged sin I did (tearing away a postcard of the fake Sathya Sai Baba)
I got a big scratch on my glares and a bump on my head. There was a Kali temple
and another unique temple nearby having both a Shiva and a Buddha idol.
Pilgrims of both the religions had gathered in huge numbers and it was a real
feast for the eyes to see such harmony. All done but the Gombu Rock
was still left so we took the Hooker Road and headed straight for it. We again had a
brief stopover at the Hot Simulating Café were a couple cracking odd Rajnikanth
jokes got on our nerves and we left soon.
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senchal wildlife sanctuary |
We reached the zoo and took a
straight deserted road for the rock. The journey seemed never ending. Whoever
we asked said the same thing, “Go straight for another ten minutes” but the
rock was nowhere to be seen. We finally got down to Singamari Road at North
Point and were amazed that we had actually reached St. Joseph’s School, which
was very impressive to say the least. The Darjeeling ropeway, the first in
India (1968-2003), was nearby but was inoperative owing to a tragic accident in
2003 that killed four tourists. It went straight down the road to a tea
estate notorious for its goons, as the locals said. The elusive Gombu rock was nearby and we thanked our lords that we could finally see it. It was quite amazing and impressive but we decided not to give it
a try. We hired a car and got down straight at the main bazaar and from there
rushed to our hotel. It was about to be dark and our energy at an all time low.
We had seen the city and almost everything else it had to offer and
were a satisfied lot.
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curvy roads |
I personally was very tired after the whole day’s rush
and decided to sleep for a while before going to celebrate Christmas at some
restaurant but laziness took over. The freezing temperature made vodka
necessary so we headed for Chowrasta again and got some tinned sardines too. We
had a couple of pegs and slept again and woke up reluctantly for dinner. Buzz
was reserved and all the restaurants jam packed with tourists, mostly
foreigners so we had to look for one where we could eat something. We finally
got one where a nondescript dosa was served. We rushed back to our hotel,
downed a couple of pegs more and decided to sleep for good. The cold was
unbearable and the whole night I kept on shivering and turning from one side to
another. It was perhaps the coldest night of my life.
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inside our hotel |
The next morning, 27th December, we went to Chowrasta for
one last item, had Darjeeling tea for one last item, sat for a while, bathed
under the sun and decided to leave for Makaibari tea estate, a few miles ahead
of Kurseong, owned by Mr Rajah Banerjee. We reached quite in time and since
Mr Banerjee was out in his tea garden we waited at his office. One of his
caretakers showed us around the factory but since it was off-season we couldn’t see
much. In another hour or so, bypassing the beautiful and lush hilly forests and
the tea leaves we reached Siliguri and finally New Jalpaiguri. We still had
enough time for our train so we ate and rested at a hotel and finally in the
evening went to the station, got into our train and off to home. We reached
Dakshineshwar early the next morning and reached home quite in time and after
having a bath left for office to continue with the usual dal-chawal zindagi.
each and every line is saying that u had a wonderful visit..
ReplyDeleteactually u have penned down everything very brilliantly..itna sab kuch kaise yaad rehta hai tumhe..
well, wonderful post..GOD BLESS YOU..keep writing and waiting for the next one..
thank you so much for the appreciation.. itna sab kuch kaise yaad rehta hai? talent hai ji :P
ReplyDelete