Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Pademchen

Padamchen is a small, beautiful village surrounded by lush. dense jungles. At the height of about 8000 ft, the village is perched on hilly slopes. I found it to be one of the most serene, quiet, soul stirring place on old silk route.

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In praise of these wonderful clouds, lines from P. B.Shelly —
I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.”


Snuggled in the cozy warmth of blanket that night I slept in the lap of clouds and got up to a refreshingly fresh bright morning. It had rained in the night.
After a hot cup of tea we were out on the clean tar road to explore the neighbourhood. There was no one else except us on the road and in the silence chirping, tweeting of birds on the road side trees could be heard very clearly. Padamchen is reckoned as bird watcher’s, bird photographer’s paradise. Later on I met a lone cow herder on the road and he told me that a group of enthusiastic bird photographers was staying in a guest house for last two-three days. Different kinds of calls emerging from trees told us that there were many species of birds residing there but tracing them in the dense foliage was difficult. Though we could see few while they flew from one to another tree.
From the point at the end of straight road where it turned and climbed upwards we could get a magnificent view of valley and mountains beyond. Those few red, yellow. orange roof tops nestled midst the green wilderness looked inviting. A cloud floated by brushing them gently as if cooing in their ear that another new dawn is knocking on the threshold.
The lone little figure emerged from the greenery below, a school bag on the back. The boy was hardly six or seven years old. Standing there he called his friend but perhaps he from down told that he was not coming . Young fellow started on the road slowly. I asked him. ‘school? so early?’ ‘ no . tuition..and he is not coming.” I had my all sympathy with him. But later on saw a unique scene on that lone road of Padamchen. Saw  same child walking with a young lady, who had an open book in her hand. She was teaching boy some spellings etc . Behind them at a certain distance was another young man with two little girls and he too was teaching them while walking on the road. This certainly looked liked a good plan…fresh air, calm morning and a lesson on time management.

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The kid walking to his tuition class

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Raushni, the smiling beauty too was off to her school.

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Lessons on the road…spelling revision session.

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Our hosts at Padamchen

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Every face has it’s own story

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 Corns hanging outside the hut of our hosts.
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This kind of bowl emitting fragrant smoke  from morning till night is found outside almost every home. Every morning with fresh material it is lighted and hung at a corner at the entrance. I simply loved the idea. You can interpret it in any way you want — prayers for all, welcome gesture for every guest, thankfulness to God. It definitely added to the holy, pious aura of the place.
All the pics — Sunder Iyer

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Days at Kolakham

Enjoying throughout our way a rich variety of experiences and scenery we reached Kolakham at about  3P.M. It had stopped raining but earth was still wet and vegetation moist. Sparkling water drops adorned the purple and white flowers on the roadside. Rejuvenating wind danced on playful melodies.A calm stillness prevailed all around.Silence and serenity were refreshing.
 The only road lazily walking in between few houses was totally empty.Not even a single human being was seen and no sound was heard. Hardly eight or ten guest houses and cottages were there and all of them except the one which we had booked were locked and closed . We were the only tourist in Kolakham on that day.
It is a small village. Home of a few Nepali families.With recent tourist influx few cottages/rooms have been built on roadside in front of and above their own homes.These structures are a mix of cement, mortar, wood and tin.Have colorful exterior and are very neat, clean, comfortable. Kolakham does not have any kind of shop or any other business activity. No provision store, no vegetable shop, no tailor or barber. It's unadulterated, pristine beauty and the calm pace of life soothes the soul. 
A magnificent view of majestic Kanchanjangha Range can be enjoyed from Kolakham.  June is not the month for those mesmerizing views when peaks stand resplendent in all their white glory and the alpenglow leaves you awestruck. but during this time of year rain has it's own songs and ever changing shapes, volumes and colors of clouds enact ethereal plays.
After keeping our luggage in the room we came down in the kitchen cum dining space . The lady of the house managed all the chores without any help.Rows of sparkling utensils were arranged on the cupboard. The colorful crockery was displayed aesthetically. Everything around was neat, clean, fresh and properly placed. commendable job by the lady. She was a woman of few words but very attentive to all our needs.As we sat with our bowls of freshly prepared , steaming wai-wai on the table, the green distant hills and swirling clouds could be enjoyed from the wide open window.
Dusky shadows of evening were slowly spreading it's wings . Soon it was to be dark so we wanted to spend as much time as possible outside in the open. With our cups of tea we walked outside and sat on the logs on the roadside. Our hostess was busy inside home and outside there was no one else except us. With tea we sipped tranquility too.
The closest hills with houses nestled in the arms of emerald stretches looked happy while the farthest chain stood as if in thoughtful, brooding mood. clouds surged, swelled, rose high, flew wide. On one second the clouds tapped lightly on the broad chests of hill to pen down an eternal ode to love while on another rushed madly to squeeze them in tight embrace. For a fleeting moment a part of hills stood bathed in celestial, silken light while other sat brooding in dark. Such a stupendous show by nature, overwhelmed I felt.
After some time a cute girl aged about 10 arrived and sat smiling next to us. She was Anu.. We chatted for long about Anu's school--- Kanchenjunga school, her love for dance, her dream to be a police officer in future and many other things. She struck a chord with me and opened up easily. We talked about various flowers found in Kolakham and vibrantly colored butterflies. Putaali-- yes Putaali means butterfly. Anu taught me this Nepali word and she herself was my putaali, ever smiling and loving.


                                      

                                                                      Anu, my Putaali

Anu in front of her home


Anu got up and came to me with that red flower blooming in the small pot in front of her home. What a lovely gift! I had a colorful band on my wrist .Anu liked it and we exchanged our gifts. She will always remain in my memory.



Look at the little heroine of the village. She was the most stylish kid of the whole lot and she knew it.




He was the naughtiest one of the entire group of the kids. I asked him who had cut his hair in such a stylish way. The village don't have even a barber's shop. He smiled and said." my elder brother' .As far as the dress sense, the fashion was concerned all the inhabitants, grown ups or young ones all were well versed with the latest fashion, clothing trends etc. And they carry it with full confidence.


He is Suraj. After he returned from school we had a long chat. sitting on the platform of this cottage at the curve of the lane. He told me that every child of the village go to nearby town  to study after completing fifth standard in village school. He himself is a student of seventh standard. It takes two hours to go to school, while approximately one hour to return. .The town is situated on a higher altitude than Kolakham so more time to reach . Daily three hours on foot (8km up and 8km down) yet they are so happy and energetic, even in the evening while returning from school.



On the only lane of Kolakham with the kids.

These kids are students of class eleventh. After twelfth they will go to Kalimpong for further studies. The day we left Kolakham in the morning. Sky was heavily clouded and about to rain. These children and we by now recognized one another. So we offered to drop them upto their school as we were heading in that direction only. Thanks kiddos for those lovely moments full of laughter and joy. May all your dreams come true.

And look at this group of kids.I got down from vehicle to meet them. They were going to their school, walking on foot offcourse. Each and every child of the village go to school. Neatly dressed, all smiles, walking on foot.....like those vigorously blooming roadside bushes these children too are a sight that fills heart with inexplicable joy.




Lifting the bluish white veil of shiny clouds tender fingers of morning sun caress the tips of majestic coniferous trees to wake them up from their reveries and these girls are up, ready and walking ahead with determined steps.



The valley below was a vast ocean of green, swelling and ebbing with light and clouds. Castles of clouds, melodious songs of birds, stupendous pine trees with their heads held high, stately hills.....I just can't thank you enough God for that wonderful evening, for magnificent nature, for the limitless vastness, for that amazing feeling of liberation.



An ode to eternal love penned by early morning light in the heart of hills.your whole being shine in glorious luminosity when you bask in radiance of love.





 Like fairy's gown white clouds twirls and whirls all around green hills and hills stand smiling drenched in celestial grace.
 An orange wreath adorn the stately heads of distant hills while the white veil of nearby range is blown by frolicsome wind.
 The snowy summits of Kanchenjunga looms in the distance.Though during june, july i.e. rainy season it's very difficult to get a glimpse of peak but we were lucky to be blessed by the mesmerizing view of the range. It rained in the night and early morning in the backdrop of glittering blue sky we enjoyed the clear view of snow capped peaks and then clouds from valley started rising slowly hiding the peaks. As if the doors of sanctorum were closed after divine darshanam.

This is our home stay at Kolakham. The balcony from where we enjoyed the uninterrupted show of clouds in valley, hills and the farthest range.



This stay at Kolakham was a perfect mix of people and nature, rather for me those kids too were part of nature.



All the pictures by Sunder Iyer
















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Monday, July 6, 2015

On the way to kolakham

Night journey from Kolkata to New Jalpaigudi was very comfortable and pleasant. It seldom happens on the train journey that you struck a cord with co-passengers and a bond beyond the journey is formed. But it happened on this journey. Dutta family was going to Darjeeling for four days and we were heading to a tour to hills of West Bengal....Kolakham, Lava, Rishop. Kalimpong and back to Kolkata. We took our separate routes with a promise to meet on NJP station  after four days. We were to travel back to Kolkata by the same train on the same date.

We had already done all the bookings online through a travel operator and our cab was waiting outside the station. We started from NJP at about 10 A.M., stopped at Gazaldoba to have a cup of tea. Presently there are only two, three tea shops in shanties on road side besides the river and barrage but a board displayed on the site proclaimed that government has plans to develop a mega park on the site.
After a perfect black tea under a shady tree we walked towards barrage. Gazaldoba in West Bengal is known for it's barrage on Teesta river, River Teesta is the lifeline of Sikkim, covering almost entire length of the state. It then flows through West Bengal before joining Brahmaputra as a tributary in Bangladesh.The river flowed from horizon to horizon, one end to other end. Standing on the bridge, scanning the river on both the sides, suddenly a line flashed through my mind, I had read somewhere...
"mountains & rivers know the secret- pay no attention to boundaries"





Peeping through a train window or passing through the curvy, winding, hilly roads whenever I glance upon a tiny temple on the tip of a high hill or on a hanging cliff, in an isolated landscape, countless thoughts surge inside me. Who would have built it ? why on such a secluded place far away from human habitat? How he reached that place? and so on. I am fascinated  towards these flames of faith. These pull me towards them. But most of the time shrines are so far away that reaching them is not possible. A little way down the road we were traveling, on a big boulder, encircled  by high, majestic  green hills, with red flags fluttering in cool breeze was this shrine of Lord Hanuman. We got down to pay our homage. A stream flowed nearby. It's murmuring soothed the heart. It was a perfect start of our journey to hills.




They are Sorina and her husband. Sorina was hardly fourteen years or so and was carrying. Her husband requested  our driver for a lift. We were traveling by a SUV and enough space was there. We agreed readily to accommodate them. Sorina could understand Hindi so we chatted comfortably. As our vehicle crossed hills after hills, moved up and down, traversed the curves and bends, I wondered how far was Sorina's destination. In case they would not have found any suitable vehicle to take them, could Sorina walk all those kilometers in such condition. There was no public transport plying on that route. When we dropped them at their destination her husband told his father that if not for us  it would have taken them another two hours to reach home and then I understood that they were to walk all those miles on foot, May be it's a way of life for them but how tough it is!

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 Adjacent to the house in front of  which .Sorina and her  husband alighted was a gate. over that this idol was built. The deer and chakra, we find in every monastery but the idol was neither Buddha nor any of his disciple. May be some one representing some other cult or a figure of dwarpal kind. Trishul in the hands of idol too was different from buddhist sculptures. It awakened our curiosity but could not stay there long enough to ask about all the questions rising in the mind. From here we had another companion.  Near the house on the road a lady with load of certain luggage was waiting for a carrier to take her home. Since morning no vehicle had passed. As she heard Sorina's husband narrating his experience with us, she too requested the driver to ask us to let her ride with us.She told us that if she could not have found any vehicle she was to return from where she started and come again next day to wait. She was neither irritated nor sounded frustrated. They accept such things quietly.
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Deep down in the valley surrounded by high, emerald mountains sun smiles and the tranquil luminosity spreading over the far way homes fills the heart with peace. Looking at those few houses in wilderness I tend to think how the inhabitants of these houses set apart feel when dark nights descend in valley. Shadows of tall trees, high mountains loom large in pitch darkness. Don't they feel lonely? And then sun slides out from the shadowy clouds and smiles reassuringly to convey.... Night might be dark and long but I  shall come back  again and again to spread light and life.
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 The transparent clouds glide and fill the valley with their dreamy existence. A bird calls somewhere and romance unfolds it's wings .


After that dreamy, melodious, romantic feel this cute innocent reality was no less endearing. There was this house on the side of the road.Three mothers with their kids were sitting on the green stretch in front of their home. We got down , spent some time with cuddly, cutie kids, shared toffies with them. looking at Sunder's camera with that long, big lens, the younger one ran to his mother. He was quite frightened but became comfortable after other kids came closer. Thank you kids for those precious moments of pure, unadulterated  joy.





After few miles we stopped at this small place for a cup of tea. the place was decorated all in bright purple and white-- the curtains, the flowers, the table covers. it was neat and clean and quite aesthetically decorated.
across that shop , on the other side of road was this small village. The lady walking on the road inside village is wearing traditional Nepali attire.
A picture perfect view of homes embosomed in clouds rising from valley while beyond the valley mountains laden with rows and rows of pines stood guard. So cozy and comforting they felt that I imagined myself sitting on a stool beside warm hearth, smelling the boiling soup and listening to some ages old folk lore from granny of the home, her toothless smile enlivening the greyness around.

Look at this cutie pie. He was playing around while his mother worked hard on road side. He was too astonished to find total strangers smiling at him. however later on with his mother's encouragement /cajoling and lots of smiling, talking from us he moved two steps towards us and extended his little plump hand .

Magnificent. formidable green barrier running miles and miles rising to kiss sky, innumerable waves of green hills one after another, clouds bathed in ethereal light rising from the valleys.....how glorious they looked.








The entire journey was a brilliant magical show orchestrated by clouds. At one stretch sparkling blue sky with white fluffy clouds appeared to be dancing on happy tune. Another turn and the sky laden with dark clouds looked down frowning in a threatening mood. but the greyish white sky with few streaks and patches of pale blue and bluish grey here and there looked meditative stirring up that reflective mood inside.


Pics by Sunder Iyer