How paradoxical to find something so poignant written on a plastic bottle of mineral water!
“I look back on life – It’s funny how things turned out.
You, the creator of beeping sirens & honking cars, yearn for the solitude of the mountains.
You, a connoisseur of fast food, now gaze at water that took years to gather natural minerals, as it trickled down from the Himalayas to within your reach.
And I, some of the purest water in the world, stand here, trapped in a bottle.
Come, enjoy the irony”.
It was the first and last bottled water I bought in Sikkim. River Teesta gurgled her way around Sikkim, our constant companion for the next two weeks. We enjoyed drinking her crisp, deliciously cool water. We sat by her banks, listening to her, lulled to sleep at times. We stared at her churning water without any thoughts in our mind, our hands absently playing with the pebbles on her bank, rounded and smoothened by her constant touch. We stared in awe at the majestic mountains and trees bordering her. We drove alongside her and knew that as long as we heard her, we were on the right path.
The time I spent at Sikkim still stays with me - it is a trip of which I have the fondest memories. I hope to return someday. After 18 days in Sikkim, I returned to a life that was the exact opposite of life there - hurried, noisy, crowded; filled with pollution, work, stress, raised voices; and no more trees, mountains and rivers, or smiles from total strangers. Whenever I see a person from the North-East in my city, I can understand how much they must be missing their home, for that seems to be the closest it can ever get, to paradise.
Excerpts from my diary, written as I travelled around Sikkim in December 2009:
Day 0:
We reach Bagdogra airport at 1:20 pm. It’s filled with honeymooning couples. The biggest disappointment is that it’s 27 degrees celsius - didn’t we come here to experience winter? Chamba - our organizer for vehicles and permits - meets us with a wide smile. Lunch stop at Siliguri later, we set off on the highway to Sikkim; we’re supposed to reach Gangtok in 4 hours. Hah…little did we know! An hour later, at 4:15 pm, we have a flat tyre on the single lane highway, during the uphill climb. The spare tyre too is flat. Our driver, Manoj, hitches a ride in a lorry to the nearest repair shop, 2 km away. The sun’s setting, and Chamba, Karthik (hubby) & I sit on rocks by the road, indulging in idle chatter. In the dark, Manoj arrives with the fixed tyre. At 5:30 pm, we set off. Manoj drives fast to make up for lost time.
We’re steadily gaining altitude. We city people can’t take it, and nausea overcomes both of us. Manoj slows down. We finally reach Gangtok, at 5500 feet, at 9 pm. As we get off the car, it hits us - the cold we wanted! We check into our hotel and have a piping hot and comforting dinner. We drift into sound sleep….we had left Bangalore 20 hours ago!
Day 1:
We wake up a little tired; Karthik, more than me. We leave at 9:30 am, after a hearty breakfast. Suresh drives us in a Mahindra Maxx jeep, along windy roads, in dense fog and grey weather. It’s unbearably cold! We reach Tsomgo Lake (pronounced ‘Changu’) after two hours. Yay! We’re at 12,300 feet, above the clouds and it’s suddenly bright and blue. Attracted as we are by the lake, we decide to drive ahead and get to Tukla, at 14,500 feet. We race against the advancing clouds (clouds travel higher as the day progresses). If we don’t make it in time, the beautiful view of Mt. Khangchendzonga that we’re promised will be obscured by the cloud cover.
We wake up a little tired; Karthik, more than me. We leave at 9:30 am, after a hearty breakfast. Suresh drives us in a Mahindra Maxx jeep, along windy roads, in dense fog and grey weather. It’s unbearably cold! We reach Tsomgo Lake (pronounced ‘Changu’) after two hours. Yay! We’re at 12,300 feet, above the clouds and it’s suddenly bright and blue. Attracted as we are by the lake, we decide to drive ahead and get to Tukla, at 14,500 feet. We race against the advancing clouds (clouds travel higher as the day progresses). If we don’t make it in time, the beautiful view of Mt. Khangchendzonga that we’re promised will be obscured by the cloud cover. 
We reach in time for a breathtakingly fabulous view! It’s so cold here that we look forward to the "warmth" of Tsomgo Lake. After a while, an army lorry drives by and belches a huge puff of black, diesel-smelling smoke right into Karthik’s face. Soon, he’s feeling sick, so we begin descending. We stop for glimpses of two lakes on the way. We’ve decided to skip Nathu-La as it seems too touristy anyway. After a look at Baba Mandir, another tourist favourite, from the outside, we’re back at Tsomgo Lake. We go to a shack and have hot momos and chowmein for lunch. Karthik is still shivering badly, but the hot food makes him feel better. We walk to the lake and admire it - it’s great that we have it to ourselves, as all the tourists have gone after a morning visit. Yaks amble around and prayer flags flutter in the breeze.
The descent is scarier than the ascent: there's zero visibility! Suresh drives with half his body out of the jeep, to try and see what’s ahead. Had I been religious, I would have begun saying my prayers; but I just sat there thinking that this might not be one of the worst places to die in, if something happens…it looks like ‘heaven’ anyway! Turns out that my fears are unfounded: Suresh grins and says that this visibility is better than on some other days, when he cannot see anything even within the jeep! We get dropped off at the ATM near MG Marg, Gangtok’s popular main road. Karthik’s got a headache so we decide not to stroll around, and head back to the hotel instead. Soon, it’s time for dinner and packing, as we leave tomorrow for North Sikkim. Somebody please switch off the annoyingly loud TV in the room next door……zzzzzzzz!
Day 2:
The road has evidences of landslides and avalanches that occur, sometimes trapping people on the road for days! We drive across valleys and rivers using bridges that look like they’re made of matchsticks - bridges that sway, yet are incredibly strong. Nobody honks at every turn. Like Dorjee says, if you did, your horn would need to be permanently on, because that’s how many turns these roads have. He assures me that the Sikkimese are cautious drivers. Despite such city-folk apprehensions on our minds, the beauty takes our breath away and becomes our sole focus.
We reach Lachung, our base for the next two nights, after sunset. We’re staying in a log room. It’s extremely tiny, but soon, we do manage to find space for our luggage, and settle down with biscuits and tea. Dorjee excuses himself to go and meet his family members who live here. After dinner, we’re briefed on tomorrow’s plans. It’s freezing cold, and we ask for two extra blankets but they only have one; they give us a sleeping bag instead. Karthik claims the blanket for himself and is snoring within minutes. I’m stuck inside the cold sleeping bag and want to punch him with every snore I hear. I’m unable to sleep and need to use the bathroom. Luckily, by the time I’m back, the bag’s warmer, and I doze off.
Day 3:
I wake up at 5 am only to be greeted by a grey and cloudy view. I crawl back under the blanket. By the time we’re up at 6 am, it’s bright and blue. I can’t get myself to have a bath, though we have hot water; the cold weather makes it an ordeal to even take clothes off before a bath. I wonder if it would be too ridiculous to bathe with my clothes on; realising that it would, I steel myself and get done with it. I actually feel better now and laugh at Karthik as I hear him shivering in the bathroom…There! That will teach him to hog all the blankets! Today, we’re off to high altitudes, so we layer ourselves with all the warm clothes we’ve got. After breakfast, we’re off with Dorjee and Arjun to Zero point, at 15,300 ft.
Zero point is indescribable! When we step out from the car, it’s so cold that we want to run back in. But, we brave it and gingerly tread over the slippery ice. Soon, Karthik and I are busy throwing snowballs at each other as Dorjee and Arjun watch over us like parents:”Don’t run around; there’s very little oxygen. Don’t touch the hard ice with your bare hands; it will cut your skin. Don’t look directly at the sun...it’s deceptively blinding.” Even after an hour, we don’t want to leave, but are forced to, as we still have to go to Yumthang Valley.
We reach Yumthang by 1 pm and are ravenous to the point of fainting; boy, you do burn off energy pretty quickly in cold weather! All the food stalls are closed as it is past "tourist time". Dorjee’s friend Sonam is just locking up, when he coaxes her to re-open and make Maggi for all of us. Karthik and I trundle off to sit in the valley…It must be so pretty in spring, covered with a carpet of Rhododendrons! We don’t last more than fifteen minutes - it’s bitterly cold with a howling wind to boot. We run back to have our Maggi and sit by the cozy fire Sonam has lit. We help her lock up and give her a ride back to Lachung.
After a yummy lunch at 3:30 pm in our hotel, we sit around the heater in our room, warming our innards that seem to have frozen. Arjun remembers that we’d wanted to try Tongba / Chi / Chaang (a local beer made from fermented millets) and gets us a bamboo jar. Karthik and I sit by the heater, sipping it until dinnertime. We feel a little woozy and nice now…slowly, we don't feel too cold either :)
We reach Yumthang by 1 pm and are ravenous to the point of fainting; boy, you do burn off energy pretty quickly in cold weather! All the food stalls are closed as it is past "tourist time". Dorjee’s friend Sonam is just locking up, when he coaxes her to re-open and make Maggi for all of us. Karthik and I trundle off to sit in the valley…It must be so pretty in spring, covered with a carpet of Rhododendrons! We don’t last more than fifteen minutes - it’s bitterly cold with a howling wind to boot. We run back to have our Maggi and sit by the cozy fire Sonam has lit. We help her lock up and give her a ride back to Lachung.
After a yummy lunch at 3:30 pm in our hotel, we sit around the heater in our room, warming our innards that seem to have frozen. Arjun remembers that we’d wanted to try Tongba / Chi / Chaang (a local beer made from fermented millets) and gets us a bamboo jar. Karthik and I sit by the heater, sipping it until dinnertime. We feel a little woozy and nice now…slowly, we don't feel too cold either :)
Day 4:
Tension fills the morning…Dorjee asks us if we’ve seen our inner-line permits (which are required to travel to North Sikkim). We haven’t, and neither has Arjun. They remember last seeing it yesterday, when they showed it at the checkpost at Yumthang. Dorjee’s supposed to keep this document safely until we return to Gangtok. We’re all tense as we can’t go to Gurudongmar Lake tomorrow without this permit and there’s no time to get a new one made from Gangtok! Four glum faces eat breakfast and set off for Lachung's viewpoint & a gompa (monastery). Dorjee has a sudden brainwave - he’ll go to the check-post at Lachung and photocopy the xerox of our permit that we submitted there yesterday. And, attested by an officer, it should be just as valid as the original. All of us visibly cheer up.
The gompa is abuzz with activity, in anticipation of Losoong (Tibetan and Sikkimese New Year), a week from now. Monks bustle around polishing brass, dusting walls, repairing masks and costumes, and creating ornate ritual sculptures out of dough. After spending some time here, we go and sit by the Teesta river (known here as Lachung-chu). We drive back to our hotel for lunch, say our good-byes and leave. We’re wondering if we can kidnap the cook…the food’s been awesome at Lachung. We’re off to Lachen today. On the way, we sit by the banks of Lachen-Chu for a while more, reluctant to leave the tranquility of a small village.
Day 5 (drive to Gurudongmar Lake):
Gurudongmar Lake day - the day we’ve been both dreading and eagerly awaiting. It could be the highlight of our trip or our worst nightmare! We’re up at 3 am and get dressed in all our layers. We’re going to 17,500 ft, and that’s no laughing matter (to give you an idea, that’s more than half the height of Mt. Everest, which is 29,000 ft). Though we’re not trekking, just being at this altitude can make you very sick, especially so in winter. Gurudongmar Lake is revered by the Sikkimese and many undertake the arduous journey here to pray and have their wishes granted, but only in summer.
We have biscuits with tea and pop our motion sickness tablets. We load the car with emergency spare parts, energy-rich food like chocolates, and some hot water. Finally, at 4:30 am, we’re off. In summer, there would be at least 20-30 cars going together, keeping each other company in the challenging journey. But, today, it’s just us and a car driven by Dorjee’s friend, with six young men in it. We reach Thangu (14,000 ft), our breakfast stop, at 6:30 am. We knock at a house to wake a girl up. She lights a fire and makes us some Maggi and tea. The six boys join us. We also eat popcorn (said to help combat altitude sickness).
We have biscuits with tea and pop our motion sickness tablets. We load the car with emergency spare parts, energy-rich food like chocolates, and some hot water. Finally, at 4:30 am, we’re off. In summer, there would be at least 20-30 cars going together, keeping each other company in the challenging journey. But, today, it’s just us and a car driven by Dorjee’s friend, with six young men in it. We reach Thangu (14,000 ft), our breakfast stop, at 6:30 am. We knock at a house to wake a girl up. She lights a fire and makes us some Maggi and tea. The six boys join us. We also eat popcorn (said to help combat altitude sickness).
We purchase prayer flags to tie at the lake and are back on the road. Trees have disappeared. There’s ice on the roads and the other vehicle skids uncontrollably. An Indian Army Innova too drives past and skids; it has to be towed back. Our Mahindra Maxx jeep turns out to be as stable as vouched for when I specifically chose it, and we can drive without skidding. We reach the army check-post and wait with bated breath to see if they accept our photocopied permits. They do! We drive into the vast, barren and treacherous Tibetan Plateau.
Day 5 (At Gurudongmar Lake):
The scenery dramatically changes: Ice-capped peaks, tons of dust flying, herds of yak, yak-shepherds and their rarely seen huts, army bunkers, frozen streams and scary boards saying “This road is being watched by China. Do not stray.” By the time we drive excruciatingly slowly on the non-existent roads and reach the lake, it is 9:45 am and the sun is out. 
Warily, we step out, fully expecting to faint from the lack of oxygen. Miraculously, we don’t. Our first view of the lake is spectacular - slightly grey, with about two-thirds of the surface frozen. We stare unbelievably for a few minutes and then I’m interrupted by a more trivial yet important thought - I need to pee. The army officers at the tiny outpost don’t let me use the toilet as they’re expecting a visit by an important army officer; they’ve just cleaned the toilets and don’t want it to get "dirty", they say. I point out that the officer is a man and will not use the ladies’ toilet anyway, but they stick to their guns. I’m told to do my thing behind a rock. Oh, the agony of pulling down your pants in the freezing cold and wind! As I turn a little blue, bare-bottomed in -15 degree celsius, I silently curse those check-post men for being able to pee easily without going through this.
Karthik and I climb down the 60 odd steps leading to the lake, very slowly. We’ve been advised that we should leave as soon as possible to avoid falling sick. The boys who came in the other jeep are already violently sick and leave immediately. We have the lake to ourselves! We sit by it, listening to the howl of the wind and the sound of the frozen lake as the ice crackles. I can’t describe what all this feels like, so I’ll leave it for you to go and experience it yourself.An hour later, we come up the steps, and the lake now looks bright and blue. We’re told to go into the tiny ‘Sarva dharma mandir’ and get some prasad; we do that. Then, the army officers come up and say that they’ve been feeling very bad for making me pee in the open. To make up for it, they give us each a large Dairy Milk chocolate bar and advise us to eat it quickly, to combat any symptoms of altitude sickness. They’re equally worried and surprised that we’ve lasted this long.
We write our names on a prayer flag each, tie them together, and then tie them to the other flags already there; we’re told to make a wish. We also have to leave right away, if we have to make it back to the army check-post before 12 pm (the deadline for visitors). We begin our descent to lower altitudes. I have a weird churning feeling in my stomach, but soon get okay. Karthik develops a pounding headache and nausea that are debilitating. We reach the house at Thangu, with just a two minute halt at Chopta Valley for the view. We eat Maggi and Karthik takes some medicine. A local man applies some strong balm on Karthik's forehead and he falls asleep in the kitchen. When he awakens after a nap, he’s a bit better, so we leave immediately; descending to lower altitudes is the only sure-fire way to feel better. We reach Lachen by 4:30 pm, twelve hours after we left in the morning. A quick lunch later, we go to sleep. We awaken at 7:30 pm to have dinner. We’re tired and covered in dust from head to toe, but we made it! We go back to sleep, exhausted, not even caring to have a bath.
Day 6:
I wake up at 6 am with a headache. We’re supposed to leave after breakfast to see the Lachen monastery but I don’t feel up to it, so we stay back to relax. Dorjee’s washing his beloved jeep, un-recognizable with a thick coating of the Tibetan Plateau dust on it. Soon, I feel better and we leave Lachen to head back towards central and south Sikkim, to our next stop – Dzongu. Dorjee gives us each a churpi (dried yak-milk cheese), to be rolled about in the mouth until it dissolves. He says it’ll help my headache. It’s very milky and hard, and mine takes two hours to dissolve! We pass by an Angora (wool) rabbit farm and also see some Zho (a cross breed of a yak and a cow, used as porters). We stop at Dorjee’s sister’s store for some tea and chowmein. Dorjee returns a CD that he stole from her on our way up (of Tibetan songs, which we loved!); we have half a mind to steal the CD now. It’s warm, and so off come our jackets, for the first time in a week!
We reach Mangan, in central Sikkim, where we must bid adieu to Arjun and Dorjee, as our host in Dzongu will pick us up from here. Both of them say they’ve never had so much fun on a 4-night trip; apparently, they usually get bored as visitors don’t talk to them and are always sleeping in the jeep. Dorjee gifts us lots of churpi despite our protests. We eat lunch at Tamarind Restaurant, the only restaurant with veg food (and a surprisingly "posh" one, at that) in Mangan (where non-veg food is apparently the norm). In the background, the TV blares that Darjeeling has strikes due to the Gorkhaland agitation…oh-oh! Our host Dupden’s son turns up to say that the service taxi will be ready at 2:15 pm. We’re worried - in Sikkim, service taxis pack in 10-12 people and luggage in a 6-8 seater van and are infamous for driving rashly; I worry about my acute motion sickness. Arjun and Dorjee are more upset than us: they talk to the taxi driver and ask him to ply it as a private taxi. It costs Rs.50 per seat and we’re willing to pay Rs.600 to cover all the seats. The driver demands Rs.1000 though, so Dorjee negotiates and buys us the two front seats (yup, two people squeeze in next to the driver) and four middle seats. I sit in the front. Karthik and Dupden’s sister Lhakit sit in the middle seat, with our luggage. The last row is filled by two people and crates of alcohol. Our motley group begins the 2-hour journey to Dzongu.
We’re going to be staying with Dupden Lepcha’s family in Tingvong village, in Dzongu District. Lepchas are a protected, indigenous tribe, and we show our special permits at the check-post to be allowed into Dzongu (else, non-Lepchas aren’t allowed). The road is bumpy but the driver drives carefully…maybe Dorjee and Arjun have told him about my motion sickness or maybe he can’t afford to break any of the beer bottles he’s carrying :). We start to relax.
We reach Tingvong shortly before sunset and I nearly stumble in surprise when I’m greeted by a fabulous view of Mt. Khangchendzonga (more commonly spelt Kanchanjunga, but I love the original spelling), the world’s third highest peak. It’s right there, in front of me! We’re greeted with tea and snacks, and shown our room. Another surprise - the bathroom is not attached, but far away, and also shared by all the five guest-rooms and the family too! Well, we wanted to experience their typical life and we've got exactly that :). We're the only guests in their home, though.
A fire is lit at 5:30 pm. As we sit by the fire with Lhakit, her sister joins us and we’re served Tongba aka Chaang (millet beer), bhujia and hot onion pakoras. We chat away until dinnertime. It’s a large joint family and all the children are home for the holidays (they study in Mangan). There’s a lama (priest) chanting prayers in the prayer room, as is customary before Losoong (Tibetan and Sikkimese New Year), to be celebrated in a few days. The very young kids sleep by 8 pm, after which we all gather in the kitchen for a dinner of unpolished rice (husked at home) and veggies. The Dollay (a fiery red Sikkimese chilly, one of the spiciest in the world) in the cooking leaves us panting. It may look tiny and tempting like a cherry, but do not be fooled. The locals eat it raw and whole! In the days to come, we would attempt to eat our food only after ensuring that we were surrounded by our 'fire extinguishDay 7:
There is no sign of the car after 30 minutes, so we decide to walk all the way to the waterfall… Karthik’s wish has been fulfilled! We take steep, downhill short-cuts through villages. Karthik slips at a few places. En route, we meet an ex-bonthing (priest) with a deformed leg, who now does labour work. We’re told that he was punished by supernatural forces for stealing the revered tusk from the village temple’s altar. Further along, Lhakit also points out the jhadoo or broom tree. I roll with laughter until I realise she’s not joking - brooms are apparently made from the dried plant, and not manufactured in factories like I ignorantly thought.
I reach the waterfall with my jeans caked in mud, thanks to having slipped a few times myself. And, for the first time since we came to Sikkim, we’re sweating! We wash our face and drink some cool water from a common water pipe in the village. We enjoy the waterfall for some time, listening to Lhakit tell us the story of the handsome, tired young man who was bathing here one day. He found a strand of golden hair and looked up to see a bewitchingly beautiful girl. He climbed up the falls to reach the girl, whose parents were snakes. They fell in love and married, with the blessings of the snake parents.It’s taken us 2-1/2 hours to trek here…we better get going if we want to make it back by afternoon. The ascent is terribly steep. We manage to climb just 2-3 km before we give up. We call Dupden and ask him to pick us up. We reach home at 3 pm and wolf down a late lunch.
Now, visitors begin trooping in, to help the family. There’s laughter and banter till midnight, and then suddenly, everything falls silent. I sleep, dreaming of all the stories we were told today.
Day 8:
By the time we’re up at 6:30 am, most of the family has left for the school. Lhakit has stayed behind for us. Her sisters expertly fold momos for our breakfast. Both of us join the fun, and my momos turn out better than Karthik’s. We steam them separately and eat, in Bollywood-style, “apne haath se banaaya hua khaanaa”. Karthik, Lhakit and I huff and puff our way up a hill to the school. It’s like a fun-fair, with the entire family cooking and serving food and drinks continuously. The workmen are served chaang, and the architect in me wonders how they are able to work! Sounds of "chai, garam chai" fill the air, as everybody is served some. We sit on the moist grass in the school playground and have the hot salted-tea made by the sisters. Dupden is up on the slab, shouting out instructions. I reminisce about my site visits as an architect, but they’re never as scenic and definitely not as fun! After some time here, the three of us climb the hill again, to go to the Tingvong monastery. It’s small, simple and serene. Lhakit shows us elaborate tomb-stones dedicated to her father and uncle. Their family also has a small hut here in which they perform yearly rituals. As we sit to admire the setting, Karthik makes both of us giggle by attempting stunts a-la Jackie Chan, with a large bamboo stick. We head home for lunch and relax in the backyard afterwards, eating fresh oranges. The oranges here are very small and unlike the ones I know. I also see an orange tree for the first time in my life; I always thought oranges grew on shrubs! Back at the school by 4 pm, we settle down on the grass and watch the work, even as the setting sun casts long shadows across us and the tall peaks that surround the playground. Surely, this is the most picturesque school playground ever!
We’re by the fire at home, at 5:30 pm sharp, a hot cup of tea in hand…it’s a ritual I’m going to miss terribly! The family returns home by 7 pm. Dupden apologises for not spending enough time with us but we reassure him that we’ve been well taken care of. And we’ve had a lot of fun with Lhakit! Soon, relatives and friends pour in to celebrate the slab casting. Talk and alcohol flow freely. We’re made a part of all the merriment, with people talking to us and coaxing us to drink some more and enjoy our last night here. I soak it all in. I admire how feted life is, here - where even mundane events like a slab-casting are enjoyed and celebrated.
Somewhere in our rat-race, we’ve lost the art of seeking pleasure from life’s simpler things. I try to banish a floating thought from my mind - how much longer before they too fall into a rut like us? I can’t sleep with this negative thought and try to think of the things I enjoyed today. I instantly think of the hens in the backyard - while drinking tea each morning, I watched as they climbed up a wooden ramp one by one, to reach a ledge, and obediently laid their eggs in a basket kept there by amma. It’s hilarious to see them all queued up on the ramp, patiently awaiting their turn. Tomorrow morning, I will watch them once more, for the last time.
Day 9:
There’s no electricity today. We’re given half a bucket of water for both of us, heated using firewood, and sufficient for a sponge bath. It’s result day at school and all the sisters are dressed in their finest Bakhu (a traditional Sikkimese dress). We bid them goodbye and wait for Dupden, who will drive us to Gangtok. We were supposed to leave by 9 am, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He rushes in at 10:30 am, apologizing. Apparently, his nephew has eloped with a girl he loves, from a lower Dzongu village. As per Lepcha custom, the mamas (uncles) have to sort the issue. He’s just convinced the girl’s parents to let them marry, and everybody is happy now. We click photos with amma and leave, armed with a huge bag of guavas and oranges from their trees that Lhakit insists we take with us. Dupden’s eldest son joins us; he will be dropped off at Mangan, where he schools.
There’s no electricity today. We’re given half a bucket of water for both of us, heated using firewood, and sufficient for a sponge bath. It’s result day at school and all the sisters are dressed in their finest Bakhu (a traditional Sikkimese dress). We bid them goodbye and wait for Dupden, who will drive us to Gangtok. We were supposed to leave by 9 am, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He rushes in at 10:30 am, apologizing. Apparently, his nephew has eloped with a girl he loves, from a lower Dzongu village. As per Lepcha custom, the mamas (uncles) have to sort the issue. He’s just convinced the girl’s parents to let them marry, and everybody is happy now. We click photos with amma and leave, armed with a huge bag of guavas and oranges from their trees that Lhakit insists we take with us. Dupden’s eldest son joins us; he will be dropped off at Mangan, where he schools.
En-route, at lower Dzongu, we stop to meet Dupden’s daughter. She’s really pretty, and Dupden glows with pride when we tell him that. She serves us tea and khapche; we’ve quite come to enjoy it and ask Dupden where we can purchase some. Soon, another large bag joins our guavas and oranges - one filled with khapche. I’m very ashamed and apologetic…I hadn’t realised that it is made only at homes, and shops don’t sell it. I feel bad that the family gave away so much of the snack to us, but Dupden doesn’t take no for an answer - that’s how hospitable people here are! He says he’s happy if we enjoy eating it. And enjoy we do, for many days after we return to Bangalore, having tea and khapche on Sunday afternoons, reminiscing about Sikkim! As soon as we cross the bridge across River Rangit, we’ve left Dzongu behind. I am saddened at the thought that probably the next time I’m here, I won’t be able to see the river, as it is slated to be diverted underground as part of the much-hated and protested upcoming hydel power project. We stop at a fairground where preparations are on in full swing, for the Losoong celebrations to be held in a couple of days, with music, dancing, food and drinks, and a football tournament amongst village teams. We will miss all this but we’ve planned to catch the Chaam (monastic ritual dance performed during Losoong) at Gangtok.
Dupden drops us at our hotel by evening. It’s our first "proper" room and bathroom in days! Our luggage is coated with a thick, stubborn layer of white dust, accumulated over the past week; I set about wiping it off. Some hot tea and paneer and onion pakoras later, we walk to Gangtok's MG Marg to stroll and relax. I really enjoy this pedestrianised road, with shops and fountains lining it; wish we had something like this back home! That night, as I snuggle under my blanket with a hot-water bag thoughtfully provided by the staff, a sense of contentment sweeps over me.
From tomorrow begins the second half of our journey, in Gangtok and West Sikkim.
Curious to know more about Sikkim, our trip & our itinerary? Read on:
About Sikkim & Our experience:
Itinerary, useful information & tips:
Sikkim Diaries – 2 (Gangtok again & West Sikkim): Coming soon
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