Darjeeling, you are beautiful!

Here, the gold mingles with the sun
and silver in the stars.
The sky an incredible blue,
at times even invisible under the wrap of wandering clouds.
I inhale a lungful of fresh and crisp
Darjeeling air, walking
through the auditorium of thick dense pine woods,
where the cicadas have raised a symphony
to a crescendo.


The lazing boys and girls sit in the laid back sun
in the quaint villages
of bejewelled cottages
which sparkle in the lavish Himalayan landscape.


I am exasperated ascending the climb to my hotel.
A steaming cup of tea
with a bite of Black Forrest
at Glenary's, tone me up in the lazy afternoons.


The fluffy dogs, the hard headed porters,
the winding potholed roads, the tea gardens,
the momos and thuppas, the old churches and monasteries,
the pretty girls....
its hard to leave them all, back here.

The Kanchenjunga in the meantime
peeps out through the clouds
like a guardian angel of Darjeeling; She blesses me.
My pilgrimage is done with.

THE WORLD FAMOUS SUNRISE FROM TIGER HILL, DARJEELING

We were a trifle late arriving at the eminent Tiger Hill to view the legendary sunrise from here. Our Sumo was parked about half a mile from the ticket counters and it was nearing five, meaning we were required to run. Staring at the the monstrous convoy of cars which had lugged thousands of tourists in the morning, my wife lamented, " We barely stand a chance to acquire any tickets- we are late" .

We ran uphill , the ticket counters were closed; tickets were sold out. People in hundreds were still ascending. We joined them.

The Kanchenjunga too awaits for the sun to rise and bathe her in his glory.

Here comes the sun

The sun paints the Kanchenjunga  pink

The Kanchenjunga gradually changes to a little yellowish in the horizon while Bubu (left) and Bumpy (right)  stares at the camera

Eventually, the Kanchenjunga regains her majestic white garb

Totally exasperated we, eventually arrived at the top. Tiger Hill is higher than Darjeeling standing at an altitude of about 8,515 feet from the sea level where as Darjeeling is near about 6710 feet.

The double storied glassed building meant to view the world famous sunrise was packed up with tourists from all over the world and from every corner of the country. We struggled outside pushing the multitude seeking a fitting place to witness the sunrise and  and there it came.

Amidst deep sighs,  'oohs' and 'aahs' the celestial orb rose, spreading a tinge of orange all over. 

For me, I had seen many celebrated sunrises, as sunrise in the punkree burwadih megaliths, netarhaat , mt abu etc,therefore I wasn't much impressed with it. 

But  the real blast for me was the changing colours of the Kanchenjunga to the west of the sun  in accordance to its rise . I understood that this is an ingredient for poets and painters. The beauty of the changing colours of the mystifying Kanchenjunga is such that words do fall short in describing the act .

The bonus for us that morning was the view of the Mt. Everest in the crisp and clear October sky, squeezed between Mt Makalu and Mt Lothze . The spectacular view  is bound to mesmerize any one .

Tourists wait for the sun to rise

The larger peak to the right is Mt Makalu. The smallest peak to the far left is Mt. Lotzhe and the one in the  middle is Mt. Everest.

My request to the tourists is that you may have to hurry in returning  from here, but once here feel at leisure  and take time to enjoy, do not make haste to leave fast enough as this morning indeed is a rare and a gifted one. Feel blessed.

THE ERUDITE TAXI DRIVER OF DARJEELING

Ramesh Lama with my son Prantik Das sandwiches a rhododendron bush

When Ramesh Lama was first brought to our hotel, I knew he was an affectionate person. Donned in a pair of black corduroy trousers and a half sleeved shirt Ramesh flashed a smile at me which could have warmed any freezing day. That morning, he had his new Wagon R with him to drive us to Mirik from our hotel in Darjeeling.

The winding road to Mirik

We left about 9 that morning. His car was tastefully decorated and the small Made-in-China solar driven rotating Stupa on his dashboard beckoned that Ramesh was a Buddhist. The Bryan Adams softly belting out from his system created a fitting milieu to the breathtaking view outside. As the car skimmed on the winding roads under the glistening sun of eastern Himalayas, we sat mesmerized gazing at the gradually transforming landscape as the pines became thicker and denser.  Ramesh silent till now, spoke explaining that these were a special variety of pines brought from Japan, therefore this breed was known as Criptoneria japanica. These, he further informed being evergreen trees had needled leaves to absorb moisture from the air all the year through. Such information coming from a taxi driver was a matter of huge astonishment. But Ramesh had other surprises as well in stock for us.

Himalayas have a wide variety of flora all over her slopes. Colourful wild flowers in Darjeeling all around were driving me crazy since the day we had arrived. One particular kind was a blue bunched flower which Ramesh enlightened us that this was called Dalberjia. These flowers, he explicated can be used to determine the pH value of the soil. Subsequently, he involved into a detailed conversation on soil and on photosynthesis of pine trees with my son who was at the back seat with his mother.

The village Manbhanjan

I enquired from Ramesh whether he had Botany in college. To which he flashed a quick smile at me and articulated that he had never been to college and that he had merely passed his tenth and he worked as a watchman in the Wildlife Department of West Bengal. It was then when I took him seriously. I remembered how  comfortably he was discussing complex botany with my son; a topper in his class. 


But how can a taxi driver merely a ten pass be so learned, I expressed my surprise.  Ramesh replied that every day he studied for the love of it, as reading was his greatest passion. For which he buys books, and lots of them. I immediately took a deep reverence for this brilliant fellow and I wanted to learn more from him. His favourite most channels on television were Discovery, National Geographic and Animal Planet.

“Life in general fascinates me, I need to know more of it.” informed Ramesh solemnly.

As the car rolled on the picturesque road to Mirik, we were occasionally passing by spots where the symphony of the cicadas rose to a crescendo. Ramesh the erudite, expounded to us that these were the calls of the male cicadas invoking their females to mate and that they would die once the activity was done with. The female would thereafter die once she had laid her eggs. The larva emerging from the eggs would bury themselves under the soil for a whopping seventeen year. And when they surface they are full grown cicadas.

Later he illuminated us with the particulars of the Red Panda and Rhesus Monkey of whom the Darjeeling Himalayas are home. Receiving wisdom is always a joy for me but to be unexpectedly educated on the most amazing of the topics by a taxi driver at the most unanticipated of the places was a good alloy of astonishment and a suppressed elation.

I introspected, whatever he spoke may or may not be fully correct, but his zeal to learn and know, kept me dumbfounded.

Dense Pine trees

On our way back, I insisted Ramesh to show us the celebrated rhododendrons of Darjeeling. He did, by stopping the car near a small garden of these bushes. We alighted for a photo session beside the hedges. Suddenly spotting a cicada on a young pine tree in the garden, Ramesh rushed to the car, raising its boot he carted out a small bag from which he fished out a professional camera and took a few quick shots of the insect. 


He then showed us many birds treasured in his camera which he had clicked in many of such trips while plying tourists and in the process have well archived them in it. He acquainted us with the name of each of the birds. Back in the car, he confided that he always carried a camera on each trip. ‘You never know what you can get.” Ramesh quipped.

It was about six in the evening when Ramesh dropped us at our hotel. 


That was some trip, I reflected, not only for the spectacular magnificence which Darjeeling and her environs has in abundance but more so for Ramesh. My wife better surmised it all.

“I have never met such an incredible, well-read taxi driver whose greatest passion is reading to learn about life.”

“..and one who carries a camera on each of his trip to shoot birds and insects?” Joined in my son.

Next time if you are in Darjeeling and happen to book Ramesh's car for an outing, kindly say 'hello' to him from us.