Eastern Sojourn (Continuing 5-6)

Day 5 : The Sky Lights Up

I wake up suddenly. It feels that I have spent a long time asleep. It must be dawn. I feel for the watch to check the time. To my utter disbelief the time is just 10, not AM but PM. It’s hardly 100 minutes since I have slept. This is going to be a long night. I decide not to see the time again till morning. The sleep eludes me. The dogs are barking outside. Even they are awake! Is the night too cold or is this called altitude sickness? Judging by the constant sound of struggling movements of others, I assume they are also sleep-deprived. Krishnan’s snoring is the only formidable challenge against the mighty sickness. 

It’s our rest day. And what you do on such day? You get up early at 4 in the morning -in case you are not already up, get ready and go to watch sun rising over the sleeping mountains. I am glad Biren knocks the door. It’s been a long sleepless night and I have been waiting too long for the savior. Everyone is complaining about not getting proper sleep. Krishnan is the only one still silently wrapped up in his sleeping bag. I remark that he is the only one who could actually sleep in the night. Jabaan kheech lunga agar kisine bola mujhe achhi neend aayi hai, comes the guided salvo fired at me. The tone and the intensity is so high that we incredulously break into laughter. Krishnan, you too! I wanted to say those words but my laughing spell did not see merit in it. The morning has started well. It’s gonna be a good day.

The dawn is yet to break the night’s spell. We climb the small hill in front of Dzongri Hut and start eastward towards Dzongri Top, which offers view of sunrise over the mountains. Behind me, in the west, over the Singalila mountain range in Nepal, the almost full moon is all set to watch sun going to its business for the day. It must have snowed in the night since the path is full of fresh snow. The white ornamental snowflakes are entangled in the bushes. Most of the mountains are covered with white blanket. We are actually above the clouds. The thick layer of clouds is trying to rise to the level of the mountains.The temperature is zero degree Celsius and it feels like every bone is freezing inside the body. We cross a hill, follow the narrow trail and see the fluttering prayer flags. The flags are local people’s way to thank the Almighty to help them survive in the harsh weather. It’s also kind of landmark to identify a place. That particular place is Dzongri Top.

 

 

At 4167 meters, Dzongri Top offers the panoramic view of the full range of mountains which not many other places can provide. From East to West, Narsing, Pandim, the three Kabrus, Ratong, Kumbhakarna and Frey’s Peak stand tall. In between North Kabru and Pandim, Kangchenjunga is slightly visible, tormenting the viewer and enticing him to get closer if he wants a full view.  What catches my attention is the Kabrus: the South and North Kabru are extrelemy white, covered fully in snow and give impression if someone has plastered the snow on them working overnight. They look like the monks in white robs, unflinching in their devotion. The twins’ younger sibling, the Kabru Dome or Kabru Black, is fully black and dome-shaped. In comparison to their taller twins, it looks more human and thus fallible. That is the only black mountain in the full range. It might be out of place. Or placed strategically to enhance the contrast.

 

The sun lights up the mountains with morning light of red and golden hues. Light seems to be touching the soul of every life, be it humans or trees. The sky regains its blue color. We click some group photos for memorabilia. I am busy capturing the peaks. Krishnan is standing next to me. A foreigner lady is on his other side.

He looks at her and asks, Are you a German?

She frowningly replies, No, I am from Poland.

This conversation would have been completely forgettable if not for what follows next.

She asks back, Why did you think I am a German?

Krishnan’s reply is, From the texture of your skin…

I cough a laugh. I am barely holding myself from breaking into splits. I am not facing them so I block my mouth. This is quite a novel way to identify someone’s country. The question in my mind is, how many other textures Krishnan knows. He has solid explanation that he was living in Germany for a long time and can identify the Germans by their skin texture.

Though the sun is out now, the cold does not cease to freeze us. We cannot stand at the top for long. We start back towards Dzongri Hut. Suddenly the wind starts blowing heavily. The weak snowflakes are lifted from the ground or from the bushes in air and flying recklessly. I am slapped on face by some of them and it hurts. I better hold myself lest I will start flying in this wind. I stop on the trail, my back facing the wind, the feet firmly on ground, holding my stick and hoping that this little storm will pass. As the wind slows down a bit, I start walking fast. The chilly breeze causes me running nose. I feel as if I am breathing snow and exhaling water in the process. Penetrating the rampaging wind, I reach to the hut. Vinay struggles his way to the Hut. He is in trouble. He had trouble climbing to the top. He felt giddy. Jaggi says that he has altitude sickness. That’s another bad sign. These are signs of the challenges to come in coming days as we go higher.

The breakfast consisting of bread omelets and hot pancakes is waiting for us. After finishing every bite of the food, I try to sleep but I find no entry to that impregnable fort. I venture out. The sun is shining bright. It’s time to take bath – not in water, that will have to wait for a few more days- but in sunlight. I climb over to the small hill. Our porters and yakman are enjoying the sun. A little further, Sandip has spread himself over the grass. Making my camera bag as the pillow, I stretch myself over the gentle slope. The warmth of sun is caressing my face gently. The white smoke of the clouds rise from the valley every moment and hurry past us. In childhood, we used to say that the clouds are going to fill water in them. Those were the days of watching a train whistling past on the track, splashing in the rain, getting dirty in mud and watching clouds in the sky. This very day, I watch those clouds passing by on horizon. Drifting…drifting away…like wandering thoughts…in the realm and reality of their own.

When there are no clouds --and such moments are rare- there is a clear view of Singalila range and Kabrus. The alpine trees are lined up on the slopes of the mountains. In some distance I can see some alpine meadows where yaks are grazing. I switch on my iPod. The first song it plays is ye hansee waadiyaan. Every time i enjoy nature’s bounty, somehow my iPod always succeeds to echo the sentiments of my heart. The next appearance is aaj main upar, aasman neeche. The ever grateful iPod does not fail to thank nature and sings shukraan allah.

Ashish and Ashutosh join us. All of us watch the clouds taking different shapes – a horse this time, a deer next, a dragon the following moment. The canvas of the sky is throwing shapes in wide variety. I would love to pass my day just watching the artist spraying the white color on the canvas. Ashutosh and Ashish walk to the rock on the cliff. It overlooks the alpine valley beneath. The river Ratong Chu is down somewhere, currently hidden by the tall trees. We sit there, silent with the valley and the Singalila range in front of us. Some birds fly in an imposing formation. They do that quite often here, says Sandip. I observe a solitary crow flying up starting from valley deep down. It flies over our heads and goes behind the Hut in a flash.

Jaggi, Krishnan, Vinay and Suman also join us there. I am expecting that Vinay will come up with an ultra short plan, proposing to skip Bikbari and Chaurikhang which are there in our original plan, and instead directly go to Goechela, thus finishing the trek in next 3-4 days. Instead, to my sheer horror, he says that he is returning back tomorrow because it’s not advisable to continue when you are down with altitude sickness! I miss a heartbeat when Krishnan also says that he is returning back because he has knee pain! He started getting pain from yesterday and it’s getting aggravated. They want to go further, I can see that in their eyes. But when your body speaks, you should listen to it, else it shouts a great deal by the way of intolerable pain. They know that they have made a correct choice however painful it may be. It disturbs me thinking about missing them. That also makes me miss my other friends and family members.

In the evening, Jaggi, Sandip and I walk halfway up the Dzongri Top. Kabrus are magnificent in the setting sun. There is something soothing when you look at those monks. It’s transcendent. They remain there forever, like a reliable friend.

Sandip does not stay much inside the room. Every time he comes back, he has information about a new foreigner. He is inclined towards them, I suppose. This time when he enters the room, I expect to hear about another foreigner. Instead he says that night sky is beautiful. We should go and take a look. The dinner is over. Everyone is preparing to go to bed. I want to check the sky before starting my tryst with sleeplessness again while others stay inside the room. I will thank my luck all the life for that decision. There are hundreds of stars dotting the sky as if in a big religious procession. They are so close you actually get tempted to stretch your arm to get hold of them. The peaks and the sides of the mountains are decorated with the bright starry lights. They twinkle like children are laughing wholeheartedly.  Sandip sets his camera many times to click the photos. I am just happy looking at the sky. We find Saptarshi, or the Big Dipper, in that big crowd. I know only that group of stars and it has fascinated me since my childhood. My hands are numb as they are out of the gloves to hold the torch and help Sandip set his camera. But the heart is all warm with the delightful scenery above us. When I close my eyes to go to sleep, the stars still shine brightly in them. Thank God for all the stars…

 

Day 6 : Separation and Punishment

First time I slept properly in the night during this trek. It was of the kind which you dream about in your sleepless state with open eyes. The sky last night must have blessed me.  Our ways separate today – Krish and Vinay will go back, Sandy and Co. will head towards Goechela. We will take a tow-days detour to Bikbari before returning to Dzongri and eventually making our way towards Goechela. It’s time for some group photos. Everyone is eager to get a photo in their camera. Krishnan and Vinay are going back with Ajay. Their eyes speak, and speak quite clearly. The pain of not continuing is visible in their eyes. Krishnan encourages us to finish the trek and make them proud. We will, I nod in my heart. We hug each other. I hope they transferred some energy and determination to us. Farewell, my friends! The mountain is still there. You will soon get a call again.

At around 8:25, we start for Bikbari. Instead of climbing towards Dzongri Top, we descend into Dablakhang meadows which is a good place to camp. It also offers a big grazing grounds for the yaks. Four chortens stand at the end of the meadows. Behind that princely Pandim rises resplendently. We leave behind the view of the mountains for a steep climb to Dzongrila. We keep making light fun of each other, and especially Birjubhaiya, to make effect of the ascent lighter. He gets himself photographed couple of times. He keeps saying, aaste aaste. Go Slow. He thinks that Jaggi looks like Amitabh Bachchan. To prove his point, he always refers him as Jagtaap, to rhyme with Amitabh, instead of Jagdish. I am slightly ahead of others. At one point, I see two foot-trails and get confused. I ask him which one to take. Kharaab raasta mat lo, achha raasta lo. How simple! And consequently how difficult to implement in real life this philosophy is!

 

We encircle the Dzongri Hills on our way to Dzongrila. The Garmin shows that the altitude is 4360m at the pass. I have never been to such heights before. Hurray! I am climbing mountains. We all are. Forget about humans, even our canine friend Kaalu is a mountaineer now. By now, we have realized that it’s a female dog, so we rename it to Kaali. She is with us for last 3 days.

The pass is full of thick snow. Once you reach to the top, the vista opens up to offer splendid view of Kumbhakarna, Ratong and the Kabru peaks. Kumbhakarna looks like a burly figure of human sleeping in the sun, so the name. Some people call it Sleeping Budhdha. Kabru Black, or Kabru Dome, is so close that you can actually kiss it from here. And true to the name, it’s black! And imposing. Jaggi says it’s the only mountain which is not beautiful. To me, it’s a black mole which adds to the beauty of a fair lady. Or a piece of jewelry she puts on for a change. We climb on a rock and click many pictures. I jump down from that rock like I invariably do every time I get a chance. Jaggi and I have a Saurav Ganguly moment when we remove our shirts in the sub-zero degree temperature and and get clicked.  

We climb down to the other side thru snow and infant ice which breaks at slightest of the pressure. The path is almost flat now. Kabru Dome is on our right. Ratong Chu is on our left, running like a vein in a bulky body. The emerald green water is bouncing on small boulders in a narrow span. The rhythmic sound of the river is piece de resistance. There is a waterfall on the other side in distance. We need to cross the river to go to the Bikbari camp which is on the right bank of the river. The descent from the ridge to the riverbank is precipitous. And it’s full of river sand. The 150m fall takes some effort as we need to be careful so we do not fall.

There is a makeshift bridge on the river to cross to the other side. 4 wooden planks are set on each side on two big rocks. Two of the planks are not reliable. So we have to walk only on two planks to cross the river. Biren helps me reach the other side. Kaali is afraid of crossing. She walks on the bridge halfway and turns back. She sits nearby, contemplating the crossing but courage deserts her.  Finally Biren goes to her side and runs after her. Afraid, she runs towards the bridge and crosses it in hurry.

There is a Trekkers’ Hut in Bikbari but it’s not maintained at all. That means we have to pitch a tent. Biren, Povel and our yakman help set up our tent. Kaali is tired after her struggle to cross the bridge. She is fast asleep next to the tent. We have tea and biscuits. The thermometer shows 26 degree Celsius on the scale! That’s quite high, but we are feeling cold. Mysterious are the ways of mountains!

Ratong Chu is slowly working its magic on us. The crystal clear water, washing the sins of the stones, is enticing. After the lunch which we take sitting on the riverbank, we give up in the face of unyielding river. In a place on the bank, where pebbles are as clean and pure as prayer beads, we jump into the river. Little did we know that the sun doesn’t heat up the water here. We immediately develop the cold feet. For a few moments which feel like eternity, I stay inside, hoping that the cold will pass. It does not. For those few seconds, the river takes me over from the feet to the head and from the mind to the soul. I am the river.

We spread our mattresses outside the tent, very near to the river, so we can listen to the soulful rendition of nature’s sweet melody. How perfect everything feels – some rising mountains seen from the crescent view the valley offers, stone marbles lying in the riverbed, the sky which is home for us now. Face upwards, I watch the clouds making different formations. Coming from the direction of Mt Ratong or from behind the brown rising ridge in front of us, they meet and separate in the sky. I see the world go by, unmindful of past and future. The clear blue of the sky is almost unreal. I see a horse, a dog, a duck, a goat, a flying dragon, a child and a man in the sky. When there is no cloud, I see my loved ones – oh, I miss them! How much more the joy will be if they are here. But they are here: a river like mother, a mountain like father, a bridge like a sibling or a friend. If there is ever a perfect place, it has to be this. If there is ever a perfect moment, it has to be now.

Snowfall just then reminds me that life is not always --and rarely- perfect. We are driven into our tent involuntarily. We play cards for some time. Suman and Jaggi wants to take a nap. I try to read a book. The mood does not set in. I listen to some music. I come out of the tent. It’s almost evening. The weather is clear again. I take a walk along the river. I wish I can flow like it, ceaselessly, seamlessly, unabashedly. For now, I just watch it do all that I cannot do.

Night falls early. We take dinner inside the Trekkers’ Hut kitchen. The noodle soup is delicious. The clouds have started gathering their army outside. It may rain in the night, or there may be snowfall. We have to be ready for a long and cold night. Just before we go to sleep, Jaggi asks a question which will linger in my mind for a long time – why we punish ourselves so much by running marathons or trekking to the harsh and uninhabitable places?  I know one of the answers: it is to have the experience which I had in the afternoon, to feel one with nature, to feel the presence of God, and to stop feeling anything and just be still. Such experiences do not occur always though, and there must be some answer which is true for all the times. When the time is right, the answer will come in sight and there will be glowing light…   

Eastern Sojourn (Continuing…)

Day 3 : The World Is Turning

It was not a perfect sleep in the night. It was disturbed too many times, so I wake up early. It rained for the better part of the night. The water drops, hitting the roof and the compound of the hotel, made constant sound. There was another sound of snoring in the room. Then there were yaks outside the hotel joining the chorus. At times I was not sure if the sound came from yaks or someone snoring in the room. The day is bright. We get ready and take our luggage outside. While others go to Gupta’s for breakfast, Jaggi and I work with Biren to hire yaks and porters. We settle for 4 yaks and 3 porters. Just then a dog comes and pees on some of our luggage in that famous doggy style of lifting the back leg. It’s a strange early morning!

 

We finish our breakfast at Gupta’s and get our lunch packed. The chirping of the birds gets louder as we move towards the Forest Department Office from where we have to take permission for the trek. There are neatly placed and aptly colored green dustbins near the office for different kinds of waste – glass, cloth, plastic etc.The lady at the office notes our names, the supporting crew’s details and grants us permission after we pay for trek charges and the camera permission fees. Going further we have to pay for the accommodation in the Trekkers’ Hut in different places for next 10 days. Leaving the tar road behind, we climb onto the slope on the right passing by many houses and hit the trail paved with dirt and stones. Finally all of us are truly on our way to Goechela to view the majestic Mount Kangchenjunga.

The yaks, laden by our rucksacks and the kitchen utensils, passed by us. The yakmen put a bell around the neck of any one yak in their lot. When such a group of yaks is nearby, you will hear the bell ringing and that will be a warning to clear the path for the yaks. I like the harmonic sound it produces. It reminds me of some song which I don’t remember clearly. The trail is either climbing up or climbing down, never flat. After about 45 minutes, we see the first bridge of the four we are supposed to cross today. A photographer is trying to focus his lens very far from where we are standing. On inquiring further, he points to a spot in the wall of the mountain on the other side of the valley. A beehive is barely visible there. He says that he is here to capture a photo of Honeybird which is found in these forests. A honeybird eats honeybees, so the name. The bridge on the Pao Khola is nothing sort of spectacular. The iron plates and the railings are supported by steel suspensors. The water is emerald green and dancing on the boulders. Green is the theme of this place. Everything is green. 

The second bridge on the river Tsushsay Khola also takes almost the same time to reach. The structure of this bridge is also similar to the previous one. We sit there for some time and have light snacks. Once on the trail, I notice the wide variety of ferns adorning the side.  They are beautiful. I try to catch every variety and in the process ends up trailing behind others. But who cares when you have such esteemed beauty vying for your attention.

The first real sign of any flowers is provided by the presence of red magnolias before the bridge at Minto Gang. We are hungry now and finish our lunch of Chowmin and puri-sabjee. We fill our water bottles from the river. A bridge in these mountain means double challenge. First you have to descend down to the level of river, then you have to ascend much more than that on your way up. We have planned to reach Tsoka, a small village at an altitude of nearly 3000 meters. Yuksom is at 1780 meters. It’s a tough challenge and some of us are already tired. Many trekkers stay at Sachen on their first day but we do not want to do that. We are about to reach Sachen now. It’s drizzling now. Our bambaiya friends are stitching raincoat for them from plastic cover using flame from a lighter. Some of the other trekkers are having lunch there. Suman and I march on. By the time we reach to the last bridge, on river Prek Chu, the incessant rain clearly warrants a raincoat. I pull out my jacket from the backpack and put it on. All the bridges are full of colorful prayer flags with religious sermons written in Tibetan language all over them.

Biren and Ajay, one of our porters, are already there. We wait for sometime but the water from heavens do not help us much. We continue walking again. Biren says that primary source of income in the region is tourism. The season lasts only for couple of months in summer and around the same duration in winter. Rest of the time they grow corn and millet in the small patches of lands on the slopes. Some yaks pass by us. The yakman is behind the animals. It strikes me that the tenders of the animals control them and drive them from behind. Unlike vehicles which are driven from the front. They just need to nudge them when they are going off-track, otherwise they are wise enough to follow the right path. That is one of the benefits of livestock – they have brain of their own. 

The climb is too steep now. The Prek Chu is roaring in the distance. The gentle and steep slopes of the mountains are washing their feet in the river. The beautiful vistas open themselves to full view at every turn. Between the green leaves of the trees, there are newborn small red leaves. Ever so gentle, ever so fresh. The smell of the soil bathed in the rain permeates the air. Biren wants to wait for others. He asks us to continue for Bakhim, the next big stop before Tsoka. He warns us strictly not to take shortcut to Tsoka. I, along with Suman, negotiate the steep curves, stopping here and there to catch our breath, soaking in the fascinating scenery.

We order for tea at the shop in Bakhim. A lady runs the shop. A giant mountain blocks the view of one side. On the other side, across the valley, other range of mountains rise in their full glory. The sun is going down behind these mountains. The garden near the shop is blooming with yellow flowers. There is a tree, barren of leaves, next to it. It is laden with white color flowers. The air is getting colder. It’s better for me to put on my winter jacket but I want to start trekking to Tsoka and don’t want to take it out now. This is probably last place to get mobile signals. I call some friends. The signal is not strong. After a long time Krishnan and Vinay come and join us. They order masala maggi along with tea. Vinay says that Sashi is having some problem. Jaggi and Biren are with him somewhere between Bakhim and 4th bridge. we wait for them anxiously. After a wait which seemed to border on infinity, we see frames of Biren, Jaggi and Sashi. I don’t know what is wrong with  him but he looks jaded. They enter the courtyard of the shop. Jaggi stops there, thinking that I will get hold of Sashi. He keeps on walking towards the cliff and I keep looking at him without stopping him, not realizing that he might not be fully alert. Jaggi runs after him and catches him before he ends up falling in the valley. Jaggi gives me angry look. At least I should have been alert. Jaggi gives us the account of the incident. Somewhere after the fourth bridge, Sashi started complaining of breathlessness and exhaustion. He was feeling dizzy. The world was turning around him. They sat quietly there for some time, taking rest and hoping to let it pass. Since they were behind everyone else, Jaggi goaded him to continue slowly so that they can at least reach Bakhim and get help if needed.

Sashi’s condition means that we are not going to Tsoka today. That is bad news, but at least he is safe. The worse news is that he may not continue the trekking here onwards. It’s just the first day and the signs are not encouraging. We get couple of small rooms in Trekkers’ Hut in Bakhim for the night. Krishnan and I are going to sleep in the dorm room. Our cook, Birjubhaiya, has already reached Tsoka by now. We have to call him back. The mobile coverage is partial and intermittent in Tsoka, meaning someone has to go to Tsoka to get him back. Biren takes off for Tsoka and gets him back in couple of hours. Birjubhaiya comes and prepares tea for all of us. There is no sign of strain or complain on his face. He then starts preparing dinner. It’s already dark. We sit in the same kitchen area, eating samosas with tea and singing songs. Sashi is feeling better now and he also shares some jokes. The dinner is served fast –may be the result of our hoarse singing which prompted Birjubhaiya to get rid of us fast- and we munch on everything which comes our way, such was the hunger at the end of the long and tiresome day.

It’s a full moon night. The mountains are moonlit. The stars twinkle in the clear sky. I call home to say that I will not be able to call for another 8 days. I know there will be times when I will want to talk to my loved ones, when I will want to see them, when I will want to go back. I understand why Vinay does not want to spend more than 6 days. For now the moon has soothing effect on the mind. And the promise of a view of the mountain brushes aside everything in the passing wind… 

Day 4 : The Cold Welcome

The last night also did not yield much by the way of sleep. It was first time I was sleeping in a sleeping bag. It’s too constrained inside a sleeping bag. Even the coffins are more comfortable! To add more miseries, the presence of many people in the dorm room meant there was constant movement in the room. Krishnan’s snoring made the matters worse. But even his look does not suggest that he had proper rest. The day is bright. It’s time to catch some light.

Sashi has decided not to continue with us and is going back to Yuksom. We will miss him. We get a porter from a group which is returning back to Yuksom after finishing their trek. Sashi will tag along with them. Sashi is our in-charge of keeping track of the trail with the help of Garmin GPS device. In his absence Jaggi thrusts the responsibility on my shoulders. That means changing the batteries of the device every day, turning it on before the start, marking the various points on the way, saving the record at the end of the day and turning it off. I will like it though – keeping the progress card with me, monitoring the altitude and the distance.

After the breakfast,  Sashi is ready to leave. We bid him happy journey. As he fades into the thick of the tree cover, we start our ascent towards Tsoka and Dzongri. The climb is steep, but fresh legs after a night’s rest is helping us going at a good pace. Everything is shining in the bright sunny day. Red magnolias compete for attention with the green of the forest and the clear blue of the sky. A bird is making a sound like someone is blowing a bamboo pipe. The sound resonates in the air. I try to look for the bird but in the dense forest my eyes do not find what my ears easily can. 

 

 

 

The leafless tree with white flowers which fascinated me yesterday is in abundance now. Biren says that the flower is called Chap. They make pickle from the chap leaves. There are no leaves on those trees and I will have to let go the temptation of tasting the pickle. It’s fall season and the trail is full of dried leaves and the big yellowish white chap petals.  The famed rhododendrons are still elusive. We need to go a little higher.

 

We are about to reach Tsoka Trekkers’ Hut. We climb up on a serpentine trail and we stop short, amused by the beautiful landscape in front of us. The snow-capped Mount Pandim is in full glory, with Tenzingkhang and other mountains on its side. Pandim gives an impression as if it’s carved out of snowy white marble and put there as an afterthought. It’s 6691m high, not much comparing with other mountains in the range but it’s majestic. It could have been a beloved prince in its human incarnation.

From behind Tsoka’s Trekkers’ Hut, Pandim surfaces in another great view. We are not stopping here since we are already lagging behind in our schedule. Vinay fortunately finds the mobile signals he was looking for desperately in one spot. Tsoka, situated at around 3000m, is the last village on the way to Goechela. We pass by the small lake on the other side of which a monastery is rising above a small hill. A small wooden footbridge takes one to the monastery but we save it for the return journey. A dog starts following us and then leading us.

The climb to Phedang is steeper than what we have encountered till now. There are big steps made with boulders. Birjubhaiya is walking along with us. When I ask him to go fast and reach to Phedang before anyone else, he jokingly says that he is not going to do that lest we may stop before Phedang and send someone to call him back. The little dark pink flowers are occupying every inch of space available on the tree roots. I find mushroom in a place. Birjubhaiya was plucking this tasty fungi yesterday to prepare a dish for us. He was effortlessly climbing the slopes and finding it behind or below a bunch of tree leaves. I show him the one I have found. He stops me from touching it. He says that some mushrooms are poisonous, and this is one of them!

The black dog is still with us. We name it Kaalu. Krishnan has fed him some biscuits. The trail is turned into a path of well-placed wooden planks now. Suman calls it National Highway in these mountains. Then we see them – the rhododendrons. The leaves are bunched together pointing downwards. The bell shaped pink color flowers are also bunched together like a bouquet. The rhododendrons are lined up on both the sides. Magnolias are reduced to occasional presence between rhododendrons. I want to see a flower closely but Birjubhaiya does not let me do that. What? Even these flowers can be poisonous! Oh my God, why on earth some of these splendid starlets are toxic? To save themselves, I guess, from reaching to the digestive systems of animals and living rooms of humans. We take a break at Gomchen before continuing further along the pink-lined trail. Poisonous? Why? Couldn’t the creative nature find some other ingenious solution?

Phedang has a small hut which can be used as a kitchen. The small ground next to it is an ideal picnic spot. We spread the mattresses there and are relaxing now. We are surrounded by gathering clouds. They do not miss to pinch our nose whenever they pass by. Birjubhaiya serves us soup, sabjee and puri for lunch. It’s delicious! This mountain air makes everything doubly delicious. The rain can come at anytime now so we wind up everything, put on our wind-cheaters and hurriedly start for Dzongri, our last destination for the day. The tree cover is giving way for shrubs and bushes now. The sun is involuntarily playing hide-and-seek in the clouds. The steep climb to Mon Lepcha is strenuous. At around 3860m altitude, tiny hail stones hail us. There is a thin layer of snow above the ground. Mon Lepcha is at 4000m. By the time we reach there, the wind is blowing heavily and down comes snow. I have never seen a snowfall before. The delicate white snowflakes tickle my bones. I cover whole of my body with woolen clothes and move in the direction of Dzongri.

There is a 100m of downhill trail into a plain before the uphill trail to Dzongri. The trees in the plain are all deep into snow.  After crossing the plain and climbing the hill, we reach to a point which Jaggi affectionately names as Pink Bandana Point, because he got his pink bandana from a friend at this point during his last trek. The Dzongri Hut can be seen from this point. The temperature is dipping fast. The snowfall is turning its tirade. We need to hurry. My hands are freezing in the gloves. They are almost numb. I keep looking at the trail and walking at a brisk pace. With some forced effort, we reach the Hut in short time. The snowfall is relentless now. We get in the Hut and are led to our room. Guess what? There are not enough rooms so five of us need to share the room with three more people. Those three are no one else but our very own bambaiya bandhus!

The temperature is below zero degree Celsius. We get our rucksacks and get each and every extra woolen cloth we have. Thermals, woolen socks, monkey caps, and gloves find their utility on our bodies. Everyone is clad in minimum three layers of clothing. There is no electricity. We go out to see the snow. It is delightful to watch snow foam landing on the earth. Yaks are out there in open using their skin shield as the protection against cold. Birjubhaiya gives us black tea to warm ourselves. The light is dim. There is nothing to do except playing cards and chatting. By 7:30 we finish our dinner and go to sleep after another round of game of cards. The room is made of wooden planks and there is wooden flooring. With so many people inside it, it should keep us warm in the night. Dzongri has given us white and cold welcome…

Eastern Sojourn

Day 1 : A Tentative Start

When I wake up this morning of 16th April, 2011 I find taps running out of water. What a start! I have a flight to catch in and the first signs are not encouraging. I rush to the ground floor and switch on the motor to fill the tank on the terrace. Krishnan, one of my co-trekkers, has the same flight to Kolkata and he calls me to inform that he will meet me in the bus to the Bangalore airport. I finish bathing in hurry. Bhavik meanwhile wakes up on his own before 7AM, which is quite surprising by his set standards, and offers to drive me to the bus stand. Very thoughtful of him. The start of the day is not that bad after all. We reach to the bus stand on time. I board the bus.

I call for Krishnan and a burly figure answers. His round face sits pretty on his spout body. I am meeting him first time. He is a colleague of Jagdish, fondly Jaggi, a runner buddy, who has taken all the efforts to organize this trek for us. Krishnan’s winter-jacket is dangling on the side of the seat. His orange color sleeping bag instantly catches one’s attention. An SLR camera is occupying the seat next to his. He hasn’t packed fully. He looks at my bags and asks how I managed to stuff everything in two small bags. I myself don’t know. What I know for sure is that those two little drums on my shoulders are heavy and I would like to offload them at any slightest chance. Krishnan talks about his previous trekking experiences, about his office and family. I think I will get along well with him.

We go straight to the Cafe Coffee Day for breakfast once we reach to the airport. One thing noticeable without fail is number of house-sparrows here. They are flying wild in different directions scouting for food and water. Quite paradoxical to see the house-sparrows in a place far from hme! I remember my childhood days when these small fliers frequented our home and neighborhood, picking morsels of grains from the courtyards and drinking water from the flower pots. A child, obviously startled by their presence, happily follows a nearby birdie to catch it and take it home. Her mother gets hold of him before he can succeed. I watch the sparrows running their riot for sometime before going for security check.

I pick up the travel magazine in the flight and end up on an article on Darjeeling. That makes me happy since just a week back I decided to take an extra week off to visit Darjeeling and Kolkata along with my two weeks plan of trekking in Sikkim and running in Pedong. I did not know then what places will excite me in Darjeeling but the article listed some places which surely made my list. Just a day before, my friends Rashmi and Gopal recommended some places to visit in Kolkata. The cherry on the cake was an offer from Rashmi to stay at her relative’s place in Kolkata for free! Till that moment I had no idea where will I stay in Kolkata or what will I do there. The old cliché is that when you really want something from heart, the whole universe conspires to bring it to you. The universe certainly took its own sweet time, but finally it’s filling my goodie bag and I have no qualms lifting this bag no matter how heavy it gets.

Our flight reaches 20 minutes before the scheduled time. They always do that when you are in no real hurry. Jaggi and Vinay also land at around the same time. We meet near the conveyor belts. Vinay also works with Jaggi. There is prominent hint of smile on his face. He is constantly talking on mobile phone. They are carrying a few packets of groceries which we are going to use during our 10 days trek. I frown at this added luggage but it’s a necessary evil for survival in the high mountains. We take a taxi to the Highlands Park. We realize in the taxi that we were cheated at the airport. The prepaid taxi counter was inside the airport and someone led us outside where a person was sitting on the pavement with a small table pretending that counter is shifted there because of the on-going renovation work of the airport. It was quite clear there was nexus between the taxi drivers and police to let that prepaid taxi counter function under the sky.

We meet Saptarshi Roy at a mall in Highlands Park. Sapta, as he is fondly known, has his own venture, Himalaya Trekkers, which organizes treks. We take lunch in the mall, followed by the famous Calcutta paan. We hire a cycle-rickshaw from outside to go to a place from where we will get sleeping begs and tents on rent with the help of Sapta. He argues with the rickshawwala to reduce the charges from 70 rupees to 65 rupees! Now we are definitely in Kolkata. This is the city where 50 paisa coins are still in use, even if they are piece of heritage in other parts of the country. It also shows there are many people below poverty line here and every penny matters. Jaggi and I sit in the rickshaw while Sapta rides his bicycle guiding us. Jaggi is uncomfortable that someone is pulling two healthy people for a small amount. I am also bothered by that thought, but be a Roman when in Rome and ride in rickshaw when in Kolkata. 

We reach to David’s house. He runs his enterprise from his humble house where many people work to manufacture tents, sleeping bags, rucksacks and other things used in trekking. There are a few tailors sewing the tents or rucksacks in one room. The finished products are occupying the shelves in the main room from where David seems to operate the proceedings. He also rents them to trekkers for a nominal charge.We check the tents, learn how to open it, set it and dismantle it. We pay David his rent and deposit and leave for Highlands Park where Krishnan and Vinay are waiting with all the luggage. The rickshawwala is furious since he had to wait for 15 minutes outside David’s house. When we get down at our destination, he asks for extra 5 rupees for waiting. Sapta walks off, but Jaggi reaches to his pocket and hands him a 10 rupees note. He is happy. In Bangalore, autowalas charge minimum 10 rupees extra for any distance, any time of the day, even without waiting. Suddenly I am full of rage against those extortionists.

We say thanks and good bye to Sapta. He spent a couple of hours to help us find the right things for our trek. Encounter with another good Samaritan today. May you happily help many others! We load everything in a taxi and leave for Howrah station from where we are to catch the train to New Jalpaiguri. We meet Suman at the railway station. He comes from a town in West Bengal bordering Orissa. He came to know about our trekking trip from www.indiamike.com and called Jaggi to join us. Suman is thin! Almost as much as I am. You cannot miss the typical Bengali-Oriya accent in his English. It reminds me of some of my other friends from the same region. His rucksack, protected by waterproof thin fluorescent green cover, catches my attention. That’s the only luggage he is carrying. It can fit in everything, including Suman, i am sure. How lucky!

Good that our train is to come at platform number 8 which is near to the main entrance. There are 26 platforms on this busiest station of the country where some of the most important trains end their journeys. As we wait for the last member of our troop, Sashi, I explore the platform.  There is a nicely paved cab road between the platform 8 and platform 9. You can actually drive your car in here to drop your loved ones to the station and then go back from the flyover a little further. Sashi comes just then, right in time. I have met this tall and hefty person before while shopping for trekking gear in Bangalore’s Decathlon sports store. He works for Unicef. Once the introductions with others are done and pleasantries are exchanged, it’s time to board the train. The whole compartment is occupied by 6 of us. It’s been long since I have travelled with so many people together and I want to make the most of it. We play cards, drink tea, eat jaalmuri – the yummy Bengali version of bhel,chat loudly, make fun of each other, never forgetting the mountains which brought us all together this day.

For a long time I have been wanting to go to Himalayas, anywhere from Kashmir in the North to the Arunachal Pradesh in the North-East. Different plans came –of Ladakh, Sikkim, Arunachal Pradesh, and went. Nothing fructified. So when Jaggi told me that he was planning to do Goechela trek in Sikkim, I gave my tentative node. One thing or the other stopped me confirming my participation. But when a mountain calls, you cannot ignore that call for a long time. Now that I was going, I wanted to make most of it so I have extended my vacation. This moment, as I go to sleep, in that state when you don’t know if you are asleep or awake, I see myself looking at the white pyramid that is Kangchenjunga. My mountain is calling, and I am already on my way…

Day 2 : To Sikkim’s First Capital

                                                                                The machine tea at the New Jalpaiguri(NJP) station does nothing to wake me up from my slumber. We are on the far side of the platform. The taxi driver who is going to take us to Yuksom in Sikkim is waiting outside in the parking area, but it will be long before we start our journey. Our friends from Mumbai who are going to share the taxi with us are reaching not before 9:30. We have much time to spend. We take turns to get afresh. Jaggi tries to find a hand-pulled trolley to carry our luggage but to no avail. We will need to carry it to the parking lot. Everyone picks up 3 to 4 bags and start walking. To my complete surprise I see elevators leading to the exit. This station has elevators! The platforms are clean and the station is well-organized. The parking lot is big, much bigger than what you find in some of the big cities. And why not? This is the place which leads to Sikkim and the Seven Sisters in the East, to Nepal in the North and to the Queen of Hills, Darjeeling. We are in the gateway of the North-East. The taxies are being loaded with luggage of trekkers and tourists. Jaggi goes to find our taxi while Krishnan, Suman and Vinay go to find a good breakfast joint.

We load the luggage on the roof of the sturdy Mahindra MaXX. Just outside the station, on the right, our search for food ends at Joy Baba Loknath dhaba. The parathas are taking shape in front of us. We order for omelets and parathas. When everyone’s stomach is filled with more than what they can effectively consume, we pour tea on it. Our Mumbai friends have still not reached and they do not know how much time it will take. Roshan, our taxi driver, is inching to leave. We also want to start for Yuksom fast since we need to buy remaining groceries from there for our trek. Finally train arrives at around 10 AM. I get omelets and parathas packed from Joy Baba Loknath for the bambaiya babus so that they do not need to spend more time in NJP. Finally we are out on the road to Yuksom.

Our taxi pass thru the Siliguri town on the National Highway 31. Sandip, Ashish and Ashutosh, the bambaiya babus, finish their breakfast in jiffy. After crossing the army area outside Siliguri, we are into Mahananda Wild Life Sanctuary now. The verdant forest is inviting. The green straight trees are standing tall. The sanctuary ends near Sevoke where river Teesta greets us with all its might. I see a lady carrying a large wicker basket -used by tea plantation workers -on her back supporting it by a strap across her forehead. Many ladies are looking after the shops in this town. I see more women working then the men. The roaring Teesta is one of them. We are going on NH 31A which leads to Gangtok, leaving behind NH 31 which goes to Guwahati. The road is winding upwards resulting into elevation gain. Teesta’s banks are getting closer to each other. The emerald green water is so enticing that I have urge to get out of the car and jump into Teesta, free falling in the gravity of the river. That being not possible without getting myself killed, I happily remain seated between Suman and Sandip in the back seat of the car. That does not stop me from watching the river running it course though. In some places the sand extraction from the river for construction work has resulted into big white patches. The contrast between emerald green and dull white is stark. But wait, does water have any color? I remember learning in science class that water is tasteless, odorless and almost colorless. What gives this water emerald green color then? Those green trees lining on the slopes leading to the river banks? A man’s life is given colors by his friends. Similarly the trees and the mountains are the river’s friends. What gives it taste and odor? The earth. On the same lines, if a man’s grounded to the earth and if he follows righteous path like a river, his life smells good and tastes better.

We enter into Sikkim by crossing the bridge on Teesta to reach Melli. The guard at the border post stops us for checking. He looks at all of us and then asks Jaggi, Is this your family? Jaggi nods in affirmation. Quite a strange family! There are no females in this family of 9 people. The guard does not check anything else. He lets us go. We stop for lunch in Jorethang. Roshan and Cheema, his assistant, tie a rope around our luggage before joining us for lunch. The lemon water is quite strong and salted, so we keep adding water in it to dilute it. One glass of it ends up resulting into three servings. A glass becomes a pitcher. Vinay wants to finish the trek in less than 10 days, possibly in 6 days as he wants to be back to home in a week. He is busy coming up with different plans. Jaggi has been to this trek the previous year, and he knows that stretching ourselves to do the trek in 6 days is not possible. Vinay is quite persistent though, and so is Jaggi. It will be interesting to see how and how fast the trek goes.

Roshan pays 10 rupees for parking. I offer him a 10 rupees note, but he is reluctant to take it. Cheema shoulders him not to refuse it. That may end up as his pocket money. Finally, after some forcing from Cheema, Roshan takes the money. As we move past Legship and Geyzing, Jaggi, sitting in front seat, is talking to Cheema about their religious practices, rituals etc. Cheema, in between, frequently speaks names of different car or motorcycle models and breaks into laughter. It takes us some time to realize that he does that only when he sees a girl on the side of the road. He has devised his own system of comparing a girl with an automotive based on her looks. We all join him in his laughter after that. I invariably remember that song from Gadar, main nikla gaddi leke.

Just a few kilometers before Yuksom, Roshan stops the car. There is a waterfall in distance overlooking the bridge and the valley beneath. Roshan wants us to enjoy the scenery before we enter Yuksom. I fetch my camera and start clicking pictures. As I move in the direction of Cheema and Roshan to click their pictures, Cheema beams exuberantly, smiles free hai, jitni chahiye le lo. Hum to taiyar hi rehte hai hanse ne ke liye.  Those happy and smiling countenances make their way into my memory. I always wonder what makes these mountain people so cheerful. It’s difficult to spot a face which is not smiling. Do they have some defect which stretch their facial muscles in permanent smiles? I guess not. These are genuinely happy people. No wonder the world’s happiest country is Bhutan, a kingdom surrounded by Himalayan mountains.

 

The darkness is about to set its shop when we enter in Yuksom, Sikkim’s first capital established in 1642 by Phuntsog Namgyal. This is where the motorable road ends in North-West Sikkim. Nothing in this village suggests that it was kingdom’s capital once. The main bazaar street is around 200 meters long and on both the sides of it there are a few hotels, shops and restaurants. Prayer flags run thru the better part of the street above one’s head. There is a monastery on the top of the hill whose base is  the end of the street. We get down at Hotel Demazong. Our guide for the trek, Biren, and cook accompanying us there, Birju, welcome us. We check into the hotel after paying for the taxi and waving Roshan and Cheema goodbye. Our friends from Mumbai check into another hotel. They will be with us intermittently during the trek as we have slightly different plans for the trek. A tea serves well to rid of the exhaustion. There is not much time left and we have some important shopping to do.

We first register ourselves at the police station. The police officer courteously thanks us. We then proceed towards the provision store at the other end of the street. We buy rice, daal, noodles, oil, spices, paneer, kerosene etc. From the adjacent vegetable shop we buy enough vegetables to last for next 10 days. Birjubhaiya helps us renting some kitchen utensils and kitchen tent. He also gets two sticks on rent for Vinay and Krishnan as supports during trek. There is light drizzle of rain. It’s dinner time. The Gupta’s Restaurant feeds us with rice, pizzas, sandwiches and chicken dishes. A full pot of ginger honey tea beckons after the dinner. We return to our dorm room in the hotel, pack our most important stuff in daypack, the needful in the rucksack and the needless in separate bags to be left at the hotel to be collected later when we return.  Cuddled in the comfort of the thick woolen blanket, I think about the high mountains, about the trek. One day closer. The excitement is gathering inside like the clouds in the sky outside…