KANCHANJANGHA!!!!!! Well does this name reverberate any memory? No, I am not talking about Satyajit Ray’s film. Rather it is about the feeling that is generated by Kanchanjangha that compelled the maestro to create the masterpiece, the same feeling that every single human being is pierced through when faced with nature’s bounty.
I visited Darjeeling with my hubby and my son in 2004 October. It was my first visit to the place and from the Toy train to the nil guys at the local zoo, everything fascinated me, when my husband was in a repenting mode. He was trying hard to relate with a place that he had seen in his childhood (his 2nd visit) which is now under the threshold of commercialization, concrete structure obstructing nature’s beauty. Hotels and houses built on the slope speak volume of its advanced architecture, but nevertheless for the tourists they mar the essence of the hill station.
But it is not Darjeeling that I wish to tell you about as I am sure most of you have visited the place. It is a strange incident that happened on the last day of our trip that still replays on my mind that I want to share with you all.
On our last day we were supposed to go to tiger hills (like all true Bengalis ...ahem..) to have a glimpse of Kanchanjangha at sunrise. It is known as a heavenly sight and very few tourists would miss it. But after visiting the local tourist office, we were in a dilemma, cause we were informed that we had to leave our hotel at 3 o clock in the morning in that biting cold (oct).As my son was very small and he was not keeping well my husband decided against it. In my utter dismay I realized that an opportunity of a life time was slipping away but as a good mother and a wife I kept mum and ushered my desire under the carpet. But my mind yarn to see it cause , I knew I would not get the chance to visit the place again in near future. But god had some designs for me the next day.
Next day we got up very early in the morning as that was the last day of our trip and by mid-day we would leave for Mirik, we went out to the mall. My son was very keen to ride pony and I had to accompany him as he needed to confide his views about that place with someone, and that someone could not be anyone but me. We were on two ponies and two Nepalese pulled our ponies down the road. It was serenely beautiful, away from the bustle of the mall, I could hear the trotting of the ponies and my son’s constant chattering. I was too busy adjusting myself on the uncomfortable saddle. Suddenly one of the Nepalese pointed up at the sky mumbling something, I could only hear a hissing sound, something that comes out when you are lost for words. I asked him,”what?” He said “Yo dekho memshab, Kanchanjangha”. It took sometime to register that he was pointing at the sky up above. “he shouted again”Kanchanjangha …yo …udhar”. At first I could not see anything as I was staring straight at eye level, but then my eyes caught something far far above us. In fact I had to tilt my head back, raised my chin to look up at the sky,
“Oh! My god!!!!! I yelled at my son to look at the spectacular view then fell speechless, nothing came out from my moving lips. Spellbound, three of us kept staring at the white mystic, a range of snow capped mountain, bathing in morning sun. The rays had spread over something like we find in a child’s drawing book when he draws a sun, then someone poured molten gold on the peaks. That day god was the child and the sky was his canvas, where he painted in his own free will, and what a creation it was!!!! I felt so small, so very small in front of the nature. Even the ponies forgot to ring the bells, and as we gazed at that magnificent sight my son kept yelling”I can’t see …can’t see “ as he couldn’t tilt his head enough to savor the beauty. I managed to raise a lifeless finger at the sky and he stopped shouting..and snapped back ” It’s a black mountain …full of forests…chhii!!!!!” that single sentence broke my reverie, I looked at him in disbelief, saw him staring at some pang of black cloud within his visible range. But as he settled his gaze happily on the cloud taking it granted for Kanchanjangha, I preferred to turn my attention again to savor the moment only to realize, I was not carrying my cam. The camera was with my husband who was standing at the mall, just two minutes walk from there, blissfully unaware of what he was missing, counting his money how much he saved for not visiting Tiger Hills. I had no patience and no faith on the half fed ponies that they could carry me faster than my feet could. So I got down and almost ran towards the mall. Seeing him standing at the mall, eating bhutta (corn) raised my ire. I grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the spot snatching the cam from him, trying to explain something which he could not make head or tail of. He thought I was robbed off my money, appeared very concerned almost rolling his sleeves in anticipation to hit the invisible imposter, after all “Kolkata ka dada” As we reached there, I found my son’s black cloud spread all over the sky and even a ray wasn’t visible.
Later we learnt from the group who had gone to visit Tiger Hills well equipped with cam and with high hopes to have a glimpse of the maestros work, but to no avail. It was cloudy morning and Kanchnajangha had refused to remove its veil.
A shiver ran through me, my lips curved into a smile I realized along with the two Nepalese, I was god’s chosen one that day (well …high hopes…). For me it was a tryst with my destiny. My yarning to see god’s heavenly abode made him bow down to my wish (my perception) making the whole experience a spiritual one.
I still remember the momo and thuppa at the Tibetan restaurant, our morning breakfast at Cavenders, Pastries from Grindlays, the occasional rain…seeing raining below from above, the cloud moving , the Ghoom Monastery, my prayers that changed a life (so …I would like to believe )..The toy train…the long umbrellas and beautiful Nepali girls selling everything from toothpaste to safety pin with their charming smile.
But till today the Nepalese’s voice echo in my ears “Memshab….aaj khana nahi khana….log paisa kharcha karke tiger hills jatey hai….apne yehi se dekh liye…aap bahut lucky hai!!” Indeed I was lucky…I lived two decades of my life in those two minutes!!!!!!
I visited Darjeeling with my hubby and my son in 2004 October. It was my first visit to the place and from the Toy train to the nil guys at the local zoo, everything fascinated me, when my husband was in a repenting mode. He was trying hard to relate with a place that he had seen in his childhood (his 2nd visit) which is now under the threshold of commercialization, concrete structure obstructing nature’s beauty. Hotels and houses built on the slope speak volume of its advanced architecture, but nevertheless for the tourists they mar the essence of the hill station.
But it is not Darjeeling that I wish to tell you about as I am sure most of you have visited the place. It is a strange incident that happened on the last day of our trip that still replays on my mind that I want to share with you all.
On our last day we were supposed to go to tiger hills (like all true Bengalis ...ahem..) to have a glimpse of Kanchanjangha at sunrise. It is known as a heavenly sight and very few tourists would miss it. But after visiting the local tourist office, we were in a dilemma, cause we were informed that we had to leave our hotel at 3 o clock in the morning in that biting cold (oct).As my son was very small and he was not keeping well my husband decided against it. In my utter dismay I realized that an opportunity of a life time was slipping away but as a good mother and a wife I kept mum and ushered my desire under the carpet. But my mind yarn to see it cause , I knew I would not get the chance to visit the place again in near future. But god had some designs for me the next day.
Next day we got up very early in the morning as that was the last day of our trip and by mid-day we would leave for Mirik, we went out to the mall. My son was very keen to ride pony and I had to accompany him as he needed to confide his views about that place with someone, and that someone could not be anyone but me. We were on two ponies and two Nepalese pulled our ponies down the road. It was serenely beautiful, away from the bustle of the mall, I could hear the trotting of the ponies and my son’s constant chattering. I was too busy adjusting myself on the uncomfortable saddle. Suddenly one of the Nepalese pointed up at the sky mumbling something, I could only hear a hissing sound, something that comes out when you are lost for words. I asked him,”what?” He said “Yo dekho memshab, Kanchanjangha”. It took sometime to register that he was pointing at the sky up above. “he shouted again”Kanchanjangha …yo …udhar”. At first I could not see anything as I was staring straight at eye level, but then my eyes caught something far far above us. In fact I had to tilt my head back, raised my chin to look up at the sky,
“Oh! My god!!!!! I yelled at my son to look at the spectacular view then fell speechless, nothing came out from my moving lips. Spellbound, three of us kept staring at the white mystic, a range of snow capped mountain, bathing in morning sun. The rays had spread over something like we find in a child’s drawing book when he draws a sun, then someone poured molten gold on the peaks. That day god was the child and the sky was his canvas, where he painted in his own free will, and what a creation it was!!!! I felt so small, so very small in front of the nature. Even the ponies forgot to ring the bells, and as we gazed at that magnificent sight my son kept yelling”I can’t see …can’t see “ as he couldn’t tilt his head enough to savor the beauty. I managed to raise a lifeless finger at the sky and he stopped shouting..and snapped back ” It’s a black mountain …full of forests…chhii!!!!!” that single sentence broke my reverie, I looked at him in disbelief, saw him staring at some pang of black cloud within his visible range. But as he settled his gaze happily on the cloud taking it granted for Kanchanjangha, I preferred to turn my attention again to savor the moment only to realize, I was not carrying my cam. The camera was with my husband who was standing at the mall, just two minutes walk from there, blissfully unaware of what he was missing, counting his money how much he saved for not visiting Tiger Hills. I had no patience and no faith on the half fed ponies that they could carry me faster than my feet could. So I got down and almost ran towards the mall. Seeing him standing at the mall, eating bhutta (corn) raised my ire. I grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the spot snatching the cam from him, trying to explain something which he could not make head or tail of. He thought I was robbed off my money, appeared very concerned almost rolling his sleeves in anticipation to hit the invisible imposter, after all “Kolkata ka dada” As we reached there, I found my son’s black cloud spread all over the sky and even a ray wasn’t visible.
Later we learnt from the group who had gone to visit Tiger Hills well equipped with cam and with high hopes to have a glimpse of the maestros work, but to no avail. It was cloudy morning and Kanchnajangha had refused to remove its veil.
A shiver ran through me, my lips curved into a smile I realized along with the two Nepalese, I was god’s chosen one that day (well …high hopes…). For me it was a tryst with my destiny. My yarning to see god’s heavenly abode made him bow down to my wish (my perception) making the whole experience a spiritual one.
I still remember the momo and thuppa at the Tibetan restaurant, our morning breakfast at Cavenders, Pastries from Grindlays, the occasional rain…seeing raining below from above, the cloud moving , the Ghoom Monastery, my prayers that changed a life (so …I would like to believe )..The toy train…the long umbrellas and beautiful Nepali girls selling everything from toothpaste to safety pin with their charming smile.
But till today the Nepalese’s voice echo in my ears “Memshab….aaj khana nahi khana….log paisa kharcha karke tiger hills jatey hai….apne yehi se dekh liye…aap bahut lucky hai!!” Indeed I was lucky…I lived two decades of my life in those two minutes!!!!!!
Posts
4 comments:
Amazing mam!I have never been there but your work indeed makes me a bit melancholic for not being there till date!
Tanushree, amazing, unputdownable piece of literature!
I was there, at THE place from where you could get the rare glimpse of her majesty!
Am in love since then..
Thank you Tushar. Sorry for a delayed response
Post a Comment