I planned this family trip in the summer of 2019 when my cousin announced that he would be willing to take a vacation during the fall holidays. That coming from him is a big thing for the family because it is a herculean task to get him to agree to go anywhere. That he has terms and conditions that goes with vacation time makes planning a tad too difficult; and he was keen on visiting Sikkim. Usually, we travel somewhere close by but here he was in a mood to be a little extravagant. So, Sikkim became the travel destination.

The travel didn’t start that well. The Uber XL that I had pre-booked came on time but the cab was stinky and cramped. It was a seven seater all right but hardly had space for four to sit comfortably; so, we adjusted like we do when faced with tight corners and situations. We bend our backs, hold our breaths, let out sighs and adjust as if it would be a crime to scream aloud every now and then and say what we have to say.

As we settled into our six seats on the Indigo that Sunday morning, bound to Gangtok, we had three generations amongst us; the past, the present and the future and I remembered an old movie as I looked at each generation one by one. Once the Indigo hit the runway, I recalled my previous airbus experience en route to Goa and hoped that this Indigo would handle the air pockets with customary disdain. It was still cold and dark when the flight took off and I was hoping to see sunrise and I did. As I settled into my book while watching the sun change its spectrum, I slowly began to get comfortable with my surroundings. Mother irritated me for a while to try to get to the window seat but I was in no mood to relent. Cousin was on aisle and I certainly am not middle seat material, not that there’s anything wrong with it but I hate to fight two individuals for the armrest.

Once we landed at the Bagdogra airport, the past went in search of rest rooms, the present began to plan the next activity and the future put on the earphones and began to listen to something. I was hoping for a better outcome with the cab I had booked from Bagdogra to Gangtok and the travel company did not disappoint, though the West Bengal and Sikkim states did. The road conditions were deplorable and a journey of a hundred odd kilometres took more than six hours; but we did not mind because we had breath-taking mountains and a winding river to keep us company. We stopped midway for breakfast at an unkempt and overcrowded mom and pop restaurant but visuals are deceptive sometimes. Once we muddled our way through the crowd and the clumsy ordering system, the gastronomical experience forced us to balance our thoughts.

Gangtok somehow announced its arrival from a distance; Sikkim-Manipal University was the entrance I think. By now, we had become habitual to the winding roads but the university told us that the destination was near and gave us an indication of what’s to come. We googled our way to the hotel and as we unloaded our luggage from the cab, some of us paused for a moment and marvelled at the mountains that perched in front. The mix of mist and sunshine spread over the mountains made for a poem but I couldn’t find words at the time or maybe I didn’t want to. The hotel we stayed in did not have any other occupants and we soaked in the attention from their entire staff who offered us a stupendous stay and dining experience.

For the evening, cousin wanted to get his hands on rice beer, mother wanted to visit the local market while the rest of us wanted to veg out at the hotel but we realised that all three activities weren’t possible together. So, all of us decided to go to the local market after a brief period of rest. Gangtok doesn’t have autos but has altos; yes Maruti Altos and plenty of them. We hopped into two of them and reached market place in the evening. We sighted a local temple and the past went in to check it out; they came out with some red paint and rice on their forehead.  The rest of us decided not to venture in or at least sight the proceedings from a distance. The market was crowded but organised and we couldn’t find rice beer anywhere. One of the shopkeepers told us to look for it along the China border and we were like huh? He was referring to Nathula pass area that we were planning to visit the next day but we didn’t understand the context at the time. However, we came back with some rum and coke.

None of us could have imagined the impact of our visit to the Nathula pass the next day. The treacherous roads, the lakebeds, the mystic mountains, the wild flowers, the clear streams and the ride on the cable car lent myriad perspectives to our being. There were several advisory signposts that the army had posted along the roads that made for an interesting read; some were funny, some quirky and some of them bold. But as we sped past them, there were too many of them and they began to appear monotonous. Too much of something, even if good, spoils the spirit of it. May be, that’s why utopia is a myth and will always be and so is perfection. As we made our way back into our rooms that night, some of us were still dazed at the thought of having witnessed nature’s masterpiece. The mountains we climbed, the lakes we stepped into and the flowers we touched left a lasting impact; it was as if we were capturing a thought inside and that thought manifested itself into nature’s creation and we were witnessing it with our senses and emotions trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t the journey that was tiring but our thoughts that had us tired.

The next stop was Darjeeling and that took us via local villages, tea estates and monasteries. Rain added its own dimension to the travel that day. I have had someone tell me in the past that all we have to do to build our color combination is to look closely at nature and I found that to be true. As I watched wild flowers along the route, I made note of combinations I needed to discard and the ones I would need to build into my wardrobe and more importantly to my life. Darjeeling welcomed us with tea estates and we reciprocated by stopping at a roadside tea stall for some fresh tea. They had beer too but we stuck to tea. There was a nursery of chrysanthemums adorned in front of the tea stall and mother inquired if she could buy some of them. The shopkeeper politely declined. See that’s the thing, in Sikkim or Darjeeling, we found plants in every house, as if people could not survive without them. They placed them in balconies, porticos, parapets and literally in every empty space. That revealed something about their character, their mannerisms and their culture.       

We had some difficulty finding our hotel in Darjeeling but after a few sharp hairpin bends, we reached our destination. As we stepped in, I was taken aback at first at the size of the place. It was as if the place had shrunk in size. The listing on their website differed from real but the gist of it was more or less the same. Cramped rooms and claustrophobic get up aside, we marveled at the view offered from the hotel terrace. The hotel was on a hillock and we could see the entire valley. I captured a few images in my memory; lights from the valley, stars playing hide and seek among the clouds and a few more. Images mean everything to me; some fade away in time but most remain fresh long after the moment is gone.

At the dinner table, we found a family that went on and on about saffron that went missing from their biryani. The steward did a commendable job of listening to them patiently and even offered to get another plate but the family went on ranting. At some point, their rants became unbearable and my cousin asked the steward to convey a message to the chef that the food was indeed lovely. We broke into a laugh at his gesture and it shut the family up. We actually loved the food served on our plate. Some of us are not that concerned or nitpicky about things like food where a burnt toast is not a deal breaker but we do care about life moments; moments that astound us.

We woke up early the next morning to get a glimpse of the snow-clad Kanchenjunga mountains from the terrace. It was a clear morning and the sun kissed mountain ranges were in full bloom. I do not have words to explain the ranges and I will leave it at that but my aunt kept calling the mountain Kanchenganga. Knowing her, we didn’t correct her for a while but when words began to falter in their meaning, I stepped in to correct her. She argued but then I Googled. That’s what we do now. We Google anything and everything. Whatever happened to libraries, books and paraphernalia?

We went for a stroll along the hotel, visited an army barrack, a residential school and then to the local sightseeing spots. A Buddhist temple was the highlight of the day but it was overcrowded and finding moments of peace in an overcrowded temple can never get into my To Do list. So, I moved on. A few of us went to the local market that evening and I made mother walk back to the hotel along a steep uphill road. She raved and ranted at first, complained next but then began to enjoy the walk. She’s this determined woman who needs a push every now and then to get to her destination. A push is all she needs. She will do the rest. I was proud of her in the end and I told her so.

After four days of an alternate piece of earth, it was time to get to familiar grounds. The driver gave us a few anxious moments the next morning when he came an hour late to pick us up. The airport was three hours from Darjeeling and we were worried of traffic snarls on the way. Fortunately, the roads were in excellent condition and the journey was uneventful. We stopped one last time at a roadside tea stall, mingled with the locals and bid goodbye.

On the flight back to Bangalore, after witnessing a brutal climax to the book I was reading, I closed my eyes. Mother was at the window, I was at the aisle and I had a smile dancing across my lips; no, not from the turn of events but at the four marvelous days of seeing an alternate culture and civilization. Windows were the same, mirrors were also the same but reflections were different. I realized that we lead our lives thinking this is the best we can do but somehow somewhere we lose sight of an alternate universe that is already ahead in the curve and we have a lot of catching up to do. I have decided to travel, at least thrice every year and visit people. That’s next.