Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and It was Beautiful…

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

The mountain roads from Bagdogra to Gangtok ran parallel to the Teesta, narrowed and muddied with silt, yet playful in the few rapids. In Gangtok, the road mirrored the cheerful bustle of the capital city. M.G. Road was kept free for pedestrians only, who walked down the cobbled road going from one shop to the other. The colourful display of flowers in the centre of the road along the entire stretch, the inviting whiff from the bakeries and bright painted doors of the restaurants make it one of the most charming tourist spots. 

The traffic on the city roads seemed to follow the rules which ought to be obvious yet are oblivious in the metros- no honking, strict adherence to the traffic lights and sticking to lanes. The traffic cops were seen managing efficiently the fair share of traffic that Gangtok gets from the tourists. Sikkim uses AI Traffic Management System to enforce traffic discipline that detects violations, validates documents and issues eChallans immediately. They have long been enforcing odd-even vehicle rule for both public and private vehicles in Gangtok, restricting the number of taxi and tourist permits and utilising real time drones to monitor traffic flow, preventing bottlenecks and assisting emergency vehicles in navigating congestion.

As the road curved out of the city and into the higher terrains, unspoken rules seemed to follow. Sikkim restricts personal vehicles at certain places, ensuring local drivers and guides with permits to lead the tourists. The road, the car and the driver were one entity, travelling together. Steady speed, no unnecessary overtaking. The witty signboards of BRO offered a humourous twist to the often treacherous trails- Driving is Risky after Whiskey and Be careful on my Curves. 

Road from Lachung to Zero Point

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

The drivers in Sikkim had two Lords of the Roads- one was the Dog. No dog in Sikkim moved out of the way for the cars. The cars had to go around them. No complaints, no fuss. Every car in Sikkim had a sticker- Be Kind to Animals. It is not an imposition; it is the natural way of cohabitation and respect for all forms of life. 

The second was Lord Alto. We were unfamiliar with the joke that had its origin in a viral reel from a car rally in Atal Setu of Manali and found this rather amusing- the underdog, 800 cc Alto has been found to be able to traverse every possible road and terrain. While most of the vehicles of the mountain roads were SUVs, sighting of an Alto between the heavyweights was not surprising for the drivers in Sikkim who hailed this vehicle, Lord Alto!

Be Kind to Animals and hail Lord Alto

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

The foliage changed with height. During our visit in March, the rhododendrons, the state tree of Sikkim were just starting to cover the valley in a crimson hue. The Orchidarium in Gangtok was a one-of-a-kind museum with greenhouse providing a glimpse into hundreds of variants of orchid. The Yumthang valley was still bare, and the yaks were grazing in the lower levels. Soon the valley would be covered in a sea of purple primulas. Every house, big-small, old-new, finished-unfinished, along the way had a small garden or potted plants on narrow terraces, gleaming with multitudes of colours. 

On the way to Zero Point from Lachung, the cold desert appeared starkly bare and ominous after the cheerful vegetation of the rest of the state. Yet, the view of the snow-capped conifers in the distance was deliciously reminiscent of a dense chocolate cake with frosting! They say that the trees shed their snow all together one day, and that marks the onset of Summer in Sikkim. 

Rhododendrons

North Sikkim enroute Zero Point

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

In Gangtok, and at several other small towns that we passed, school children of all ages were seen walking back from schools in groups. Rosy cheeks, pigtailed hair, a sleeveless sweater or a light jacket as a part of their uniforms with backpacks. As we spotted some older students in uniforms, we were surprised to learn that in Sikkim, even colleges had uniforms to ensure a level of discipline and equality. 

The motif of The Four Harmonious Friends comprising of an elephant, a monkey, a rabbit and a bird can be found across the state as sculptures, engravings and paintings. A story from the Jataka Tales, it emphasizes that different people coexist while helping each other, putting the needs of others before self.

The Four Harmonious Friends

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

Most of our Sikkim trivia was based on the conversations with our driver-cum-guide, Sanjay. He had his own travel company, had been driving tourists around for almost 9 years, had vast knowledge and immense pride for his home. For 6 months a year, he drove around tourists and for the remaining 6 months, mainly during the monsoon and winter months, he took it easy at home, catching up on his exercise, movies and sleep. Life was happy. Here, the drivers are given free entry to tourist places when they first open like the Orchidarium, the ropeways and the bird parks. This allows them to gain first-hand knowledge that they can impart to the tourists. While nowhere do the shop owners follow you around and insist that you buy things, the guides have to take the tourists to the state owned handicraft museum in Gangtok to showcase and promote their wares. 

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

Leaves, green, brown and golden lined the roads. At almost every 500m, we came across dustbins. The flowers of Sikkim, red, crimson, pink, violet, yellow, orange and white were only to be appreciated on the trees and shrubs. Nobody is allowed to throw trash on the Sikkim roads. Nobody is allowed to pluck flowers. Nobody is allowed to feed monkeys on roadside. Plastic bottles are not allowed in North Sikkim. Anybody witnessing littering or plucking flowers can take a photograph and report to the concerned authorities ensuring a fine. 

Flowers of Sikkim

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

Flowers were not the only entities adding colours to Sikkim’s palette. The prayer flags lined the roads, houses, vehicles, bridges, mountain passes and monasteries. The five colours symbolize the natural elements- white for wind, yellow for earth, green for water, blue for sky and red for fire… billow in unison, singing in the wind. 

We sometimes passed a group of white prayer flags on tall bamboos in rows. These were 108 flags erected in memory of the departed souls. Our car once stopped on the road, allowing a procession to pass. This is followed everywhere in Sikkim when a village carries its dead, upright in a small cuboid box, for his final journey.

Yumthang Valley

Prayer flags across the valley

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

Om Mani Padme Hum, the deep, meditative chant echoed in the very air of Sikkim. The day’s journey would begin with this prayer. The monasteries were clean and quiet, silently expecting the same from the tourists. The monks playing cricket and dancing to popular songs was a jolly sight. In Enchay monastery, you could offer anything to the deities which included the usual fresh water, butter lamps, incense, fruits, and foods but we were most surprised to find bottles of Absolute, Old Monk and HIT offered at the altar! It is what you share happily with your heart that matters!

The devotion here goes beyond the traditional religious practices. Devotion is to the holy land itself. For the Bhutia and the Lepcha tribes of Sikkim, Kanchenjunga is the divine God, and no mortal must set foot on its summit. An Austrian team once attempted to conquer the 3^rd highest peak in the world, but they too stopped 10 meters short of the summit to respect the beliefs of the natives.

The game must go on

Buddha Park, Pelling

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

The clean air that we were breathing seemed to clear not only our exhausted lungs but also make unusual space for unending food in our bellies. Momos were best at small, roadside joints run by ever smiling women. They ranged from the usual chicken and cheese momos to mouthwatering pork and jhol momos. Thupkas, while we ate them day in and day out, seemed to always taste good and better than the previous place. Yak cheese or Chhurpi is a delicacy that must be tried. Tibetan specialities of Shyaphale, Bhakthuk and Thenthuk were novel yet comforting in a strange way. Even the smallest of shops provided the essential mountain food Maggi in cute, decorative bowls.  

Thupka 

Momos and more

Yesterday I was in Sikkim, and it was beautiful…

The season changed from day to day and even during the same day. A warm sunny afternoon would give way to a foggy, wet drive through the mist and rain without an ounce of visibility. A day long drive to North Sikkim was followed by a night spent in a fantastic resort but without electricity in the entire town and a group of super helpful staff…and a breathtaking sight of a sky full of stars. A sweaty, hectic hike was rewarded with a blast of chilling wind hitting your face on reaching the top. A road closure due to sudden snowfall led to a serendipitous detour from Nathu La and Changu/Tsongmo to Pelling. A grey day of pouring rain was followed by a crystal clear morning with white wisps of cloud patiently parting to give the best view of the majestic Kanchenjunga. 

Rainy day

A sky full of stars

Yesterday I was in Sikkim and it was beautiful…

The warmth extended beyond the food bowls. Tashi Dalek, the local phrase for namaste or welcome is also the name of one of the oldest hotels in Gangtok. A cup of Irish coffee on the rooftop restaurant of this hotel, a golden sunset and a cool drizzle, Sikkim was like an old friend embracing you. The people here were not only helpful, they took pride in their local culture and enthusiastically shared the knowledge. The police at check points would smile and enquire about your trip while checking the permits. Hotel staff would go out of their way to make sure you get a good view of their Kanchenjunga. 

Football holds an important place in their hearts with Baichung being revered by all. Women here are extremely hard working and are often seen in professions attributed to the XY sex by the tier 1 city folks. Traffic policing, restaurants, road and dam construction and clearing of landslides are handled efficiently by women who are seeing carrying both boulders and babies with the same skill and ease. Life is hard but people are also built harder.

Irish coffee and sunsets

Alpenglow

Yesterday I was in Sikkim and it was beautiful…

Is it strange that I would pray that it remains intact as my yesterday, like a time I have captured inside a snow globe? Can I turn it over in my heart and watch the white snowflakes fall softly and cover the unmistakable tip of the Kanchenjunga, the blue and grey raindrops patter down on a looping road, the golden sun rays falter down a vast valley, the green leaves swing off the tender boughs and the crimson rhododendrons blush gleefully to make me fall for them over and over again? Sikkim may change for the better tomorrow, and I may visit it again, but the Sikkim of my yesterday will be the most beautiful it ever was…

Mount Kanchenjunga

MS

The Rescue

Bhuban was not the studious type but in the past few days his father, Shankar, noticed a big change in him. He would wake up on his own, get dressed, pack his school bag and also eat the drab panta bhaat (fermented rice) for breakfast without a fuss. Shankar just prayed and hoped the boy would continue with this routine henceforth. He was a very gentle father and never ever raised his voice or hand on Bhuvan, no matter what the boy did. He had lost his wife Sabitri in a tragic road accident a couple of years ago. Unable to hide his emotions, Shankar asked the boy, “How is your mastaar-moshai?”

The boy looked surprised and said, “I don’t know.”

“Why? You must be meeting your teacher every day.”

“No, Baba. I go to the school but don’t attend the classes. My friends and I go to the forest area adjoining the school. There we see a big mother elephant feeding her new born calf and after sometime the baby elephant comes walking to us and plays with us.”

“And the mother elephant allows that?”

“Yes. She just keeps a watchful eye on the baby, and if he wanders afar, she blows her trumpet loudly. The baby immediately returns to the mother on hearing the call. It is so much more fun watching this than going to the classroom and listening to mastaar-moshai shouting at us.”

“So, I take you and your friends to school every morning across the Teesta River for you to do all this? How will you go to the next level if you do not attend the classes.”

Mother and child
 Picture courtesy Internet

“Baba, let us go to school quickly. My friends must be waiting for you.”

Shankar started walking with Bhuban in tow. They reached the spot where his fishing boat was kept ready by his assistant Rehmat. The five school boys were taken to the other side of a fast-flowing river by the two fishermen. After the children went towards the school, the duo tied the boat to the trunk of a big tree nearby and waited for the current in the tide to subside a bit before going out to catch fish. It was not safe to go fishing at this time.

The boys reached the school. They went to their classroom, dropped their bags on the benches there, and rushed out to the nearby forest to meet their friend Shombhu, a name they had coined for the little pachyderm. The boys had brought their tiffin boxes with them and opened the same after reaching a clear spot where they all sat in a semi-circle. Shombhu saw the five friends and started walking towards them. He went to each one of them, stopped there, raised his trunk gently and then placed it before the children as if saying, “Give!”. The boys would put a little food on his trunk which would be immediately devoured in one go. Since this was a daily affair, the mama elephant stood nearby and watched the kids at play.

Suddenly, a roaring sound came from the forest and the mother was immediately on an alert mode. She turned towards the direction from where the roar came. The boys, too, heard the noise and stood up to run, leaving their tiffin boxes on the ground. The only person who seemed oblivious of the lurking danger was Shombhu who quickly went from box to box to gobble up the remaining food. Meanwhile, the mother elephant started moving towards the deep end of the forest to make sure the predator did not dare come near her baby. She trumpeted loudly a number of times, signalling to her own herd, who were somewhere close, to come to her aid. As the mama elephant moved, the boys also panicked and started running towards the river even though they knew very well that Royal Bengal tigers were good swimmers too. There was no other direction they could think of to escape.

The herd

Seeing the kids run, Shombhu also started following them, thinking this was a part of a game they were playing with him. With no sign of his mother, he too was enjoying the unobstructed run. Bhuban and his friends ran faster than ever and some of their slippers fell off their feet. But with a possible tiger on your back, saving your life was far more important than some ordinary slippers. After running for some time, they reached the riverfront and then looked behind for the first time. They did not see any tiger coming but a few minutes later saw Shombhu appear. He came close to the boys and joined them in their laughter by shaking his head rapidly from side to side.

One of the boys, Litton, decided to go to the water and wet his feet. The other boys followed. Watching the boys jumping and splashing water on each other, Shombhu, went towards them to join the fun. He, too, liked the cold water overflowing on to the shore kissing his ‘tiny’ jumbo feet. Frolicking in the running water was so much more fun than his usual bathing place in a small pond where his mother took him daily. The fun time at the waterfront changed when Shombhu heard his mother trumpeting repeatedly. The baby did not know which way to go and mistakenly started walking towards the deeper end of the water. The boys started shouting at him, “Come back… come back you fool. The river is too deep and you will get lost! Your mama is calling you and you need to come ashore.”

Shombhu kept moving and suddenly found himself floating in the water. He realised that that he could swim. He felt happy at this newly acquired skill. He started venturing deeper and farther from the shore where the current was even faster. He soon realised that he was no longer swimming. He was getting carried away involuntarily. Bhuban saw his father and Rehmat Chacha sitting under a tree, smoking bidi. He shouted… “Baba, help… come quickly. Shombhu is getting carried away in the river.” Shankar heard his son’s cry and looked in the direction Bhuban was pointing. Shankar saw a small trunk jutting from the water and knew the danger the baby elephant was in. He quickly opened the rope tied to the boat and with Rehmat’s help, pushed it into the water. The duo jumped in and started rowing the boat as fast as they could. While rowing towards the baby, they shouted to their fellow fishermen in the vicinity to come to their aid. Some of them responded and Bhuban could now see at least three boats going towards Shombhu who was trying his best to keep his trunk above the water surface while being dragged downstream. By now the mother elephant, too, had come to the river front and realised what was happening. She rushed into the water and started swimming quickly towards her baby.

The three boats with two fishermen in each took almost half an hour to reach close to Shombhu after rowing at a pace they had never done before. They approached Shombhu from three sides and threw their nets over him. These nets were meant to catch small fish in the river but they were all handmade and reasonably strong but not strong enough to hold an elephant. However, the nets slowed Shombu greatly and the boatmen locked his free flow. One fisherman from each boat jumped into the river and started lifting Shumbu atop Shankar’s boat. The baby elephant weighed a lot and despite their best efforts, they were able to lift him a little and then he would splash down. Then a miracle happened. They found Shombhu getting lifted from under the water on his own. Soon the fishermen realised that the mother had arrived and she was standing beneath Shombhu, who was now dragged up onto Shankar’s boat. Shankar freed the baby from the nets and was happy to see Shombhu opening his eyes and breathing. The boats returned ashore where the children were anxiously waiting for their friend. By now the entire school had come to know about the rescue act and crowded along the riverfront. They cheered aloud as Shombhu got off the boat and soon after his mother walked out of the water. The mother went to the baby and all could feel the emotions the giant mama was going through as she kept rubbing her trunk over the baby’s back over and over again as the calf nestled against his mother.

Happy Shombhu thanking his saviors
Picture courtesy Internet

The happy children returned home in Shankar’s boat. Next day they were back in the forest area playing with Shombhu. Bhuban had seen reels of Ganapati festival being celebrated and he told his friends that they should also celebrate the festival in the school. They hatched an immediate plan and after a while when the bell rang for midday meal, all the school kids came out of their classes. They saw Shombhu with lots of garlands round his neck, sitting near the entrance of the school gate. The teachers also saw the sight and allowed the children to skip the remaining classes to enjoy the impromptu festival organised by Bhuban and friends. The local purohit was also called in and the villagers gathered with fruits and sweets and served them to Shombhu who ate them all. A local DJ happily joined the fun and started playing loud music. The kids danced madly to the beat while Shombhu sat sweetly enjoying the attention and loads of good food. At the end of it the boys led Shombhu back to his mother who was waiting at the edge of the forest.

Later in the evening, Shankar and Bhuban went back to their own home across the river. They found the postman waiting for them with a letter and asked Shankar to sign his register. The postman explained that this was a special post for Shankar and not an ordinary letter. After the postman left, Shankar opened the envelope and found a letter from National Insurance stating that they had settled the accidental death of Sabitri Devi. Shankar found a cheque with Rs 10,00,000 (ten lakhs) attached to the letter. He hugged Bhuban tight, kissed him and they both went to the altar where a few pictures and idols of gods and goddesses were kept in their home. Both said short silent prayers and kept talking into the night recalling the good times they had before Bhuban’s mother’s sudden and untimely demise.

Next day, Shankar went to a photography shop in the nearby town. Later, when Bhuban came home, he showed him a framed picture of Shombhu with garlands, dressed as Lord Ganapati placed on the elevated asana there. Bhuban put his hands in the air and shouted, “Gonopoti Bappa Moriya!”

SS

NB. This is a fictitious story woven around a real-life rescue of a baby elephant in the Teesta recently by five fishermen in Jalpaiguri District of West Bengal.

Conversations with My Youth

August 24, 2031, The Ghost of My Youth Past

“Do you miss me?”

I smile faintly. Turn the volume up of the Recap Playlist as I continue driving down the familiar road. Avril Lavigne’s ‘Complicated’ fades into the background as the voice of RJ 2014 takes over. 

“Do you miss the days you were riding the red scooty instead of this four-wheeled seat belt equipped vehicle?”

“A little. Sometimes.”

“And what about the days when you could bunk the classes without applying for leave a month in advance?”

“I don’t need to now.”

“You didn’t need to then either. You did it anyway. What about your gang? Are they still as crazy?”

“When we meet once a year, yes. For that night.” My gaze lingers on my phone propped up on the holder on the windshield. Seven familiar faces grin back at me from India Gate, eyes crinkled, arms over each other’s shoulders. The hair is all black, messed up by the wind that day.

“Does JK come for the reunions?

I nod with a smirk, knowing very well she knows the answer.

“Do you regret saying no to him?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“He’s happy. I’m happy. We are both happy meeting each other when we do.”

“What about Shalini? Are you guys finally talking to each other?”

“Of course! You really think we would hold that grudge for so long? She is coming to India next month.”

“Do you miss me?”

I sigh, tap my screen for the next track. 

The drums start playing the familiar tune.

Those were the best days of my life.

 

July 20, 2026, The Ghost of My Youth Present

“Does it hurt?”

What kind of a question is that? Ya, of course it does. I just got beaten up with a lathi for the first time in my life!

“What were you thinking? I told you, don’t go, there could be trouble.”

I look up incredulously at the blatant untruth.

“No, you did not. You said, I must go. What has happened, what is happening, it’s all wrong. If we don’t do anything now, this will keep happening. Take your camera and microphone. Somebody must report the truth.”

“I was just being supportive. Since obviously you have not told your parents, I thought it would be good to stand by you. I most definitely did not ask you to go to the frontline and keep recording like an idiot.”

“Bah! I must have been crazy to listen to you. Now stop pestering, I have no signal on my phone. I need to find my friends, find internet service, edit and upload the videos ASAP. Then I have to clean up and come back.”

“Come back?”

“Yes! This is just the beginning. You’ve done the damage. You dragged me here in the first place. You better not back out now. Just come with me.”

“Oh great! Now it’s my fault?”

“Ya, you and all your other ‘spirit friends’. How else do you think this crowd gathered

here?”

“Fine. Do as you please. You’ll regret it.”

“No, I won’t. And neither will you.” I wink, scramble up on my feet, brush the dust off my torn jeans and plug in the wired earphones.

Kuch kar guzarne ko, khoon chala, khoon chala…

 

October 4, 2005, The Ghost of My Youth Future

“Do you recognize me?”

I look up from my desk. I need to finish my homework so that I can go down to play with my friends.

“No. Who let you in?”

“No one needs to. I am you, but few years down the line.”

Brilliant. I have been making up games and playing alone for far too long to get upset or scared. 

“Ok. So, when is J.K. Rowling releasing the final book?”

“Tsk! Child. You meet your future self and this is the question you choose to ask? Don’t you want to know what you will become when you grow up?”

“No, but since you mention it, I already know that I will become an author.”

“Ha! Right, we’ll see. Do you want to know who you will vote for when you become eligible?”

“No, that was your job. It’s not my time yet. I do not even know the candidates now. What is the point of knowing at this stage? Good for you that you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Figured out? No, I haven’t. That is why I need to tell you. So that you don’t make any mistakes.”

“Nah! Not fair. Not interested. But what else have you got? How many mistakes do I make in my final mathematics examination? Can you tell me the questions?”

“I don’t remember all these trivial details. It really does not matter. Alright fine, the final book of Harry Potter will be released in 2007 and you will get it on the first day. I will tell you this though… do not read the books ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’, ‘1984’, ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’, ‘I Am Malala’…”

“Stop! Stop! What are you talking about? What books are these? I have already read Anne Frank’s Diary, but I don’t have the others.”

“Some are yet to be written…”

“I am not going to remember these names.”

“Oh, you will. Just don’t read them, okay? They will ban them eventually but just don’t read them before that.”

“Oooo! So you have read them?”

“Yes…but…”

“Then I can’t really change that, can I? And why shouldn’t I? Do I have to be a certain age before I am allowed to?” I giggle.

“I am trying to help you. Listen to me.”

“Sure. I won’t. Are you done?”

“You’ve already memorized the names, haven’t you? You will do exactly what you are told not to, won’t you?” 

“Aah, but you already know that. After all, you are me. Bye!”

I turn around and leave. That went exactly as it should have. I smile and walk away from my old room. I hear my old CD player behind the closed door.

We don’t need no education. We don’t need no thought control.

MS