Sandakfuian Tales – 2

29Jun09

15th May – The day started with the Darjeeling Mail pulling into the New Jalpaiguri station at 8:45 a.m., a full 45 minutes late. Though I was in favor of washing up in the station and leaving as soon as possible, the others were of the opinion of booking a hotel room. Moreover, we’d to wait for Kaptaan RC (KRC) and Subedaar RC (SRC) who were coming by bus. There are some 2-3 hotels just outside the NJP station – Hotel Hilton and Hotel Balajee among them, none of which can pass the minimum hospitality test that one can come up with. Into Hilton we went and after paying Rs. 300 for a room for 3 hours, we found the room as nauseating as Navjot Singh Sidhu when in the midst of one of his infamous musings. The hotel itself was seedy, with strange characters moving around. Just as we’d washed up, KRC and SRC reached and we all had lunch.

Getting to Maneybhanjan was tricky as there was a general strike being observed that day. A cab agreed to drop us there for Rs. 3200 provided we didn’t want to go via Mirik, the epicentre of the Gorkhaland agitation. We scouted a bit further and another one agreed to go via Mirik for Rs. 3000. Though the rent was still on the higher side, it being a chakka-bandh, we agreed to it. Moreover, the government prepaid taxi service shut down on that day due to the strike, we didn’t have much choice. Passing through the Sukna military station, we came to know that the borders of Nepal, Bhutan and Bangladesh were all within a distance of 50 kms. Soon we reached Mirik, a rather small place housing some excellent restaurants and a lovely lake on the borders of a very green deciduous forest. We spent some time taking pictures on the lake, in the restaurants and of the fishes. We didn’t stop at any other place till we got to Maneybhanjan. On the way we passed Pashupatinath Phatak, the border opening to Nepal where a bazaar meets. The place was really crowded and colorful. The drive towards Maneybhanjan got steeper with each hour and all of us took turns dozing off in the cab.

Around 4 in the afternoon, we got to Maneybhanjan and were greeted by Buddha, our guide for the next 3 days. While Buddha and others were engaged in buying equipment for the trek, I strolled about the place taking pictures of World War 2 Landrovers, Nepali cigarettes and exotic eating places.

Starting off in the evening from Maneybhanjan, we were all in high spirits. But the climb was so steep that soon our spirits dampened. I guess all the enthusiasm died around 15 minutes into the walk. And we realised at what we were staring at, over the next three days. Around some half an hour later, BBB and SS gave up. While we were still debating whether to share their load and push on, taking them with us or turn back to start the next day, SS began throwing up. And after that, the rest of us didn’t want to take a risk of carrying him with us. We bid quick goodbyes after shedding some of our load (as we’d realised by then that our backpacks would only tire us out) we continued up. BBB and SS were supposed to meet us up at Sandakfu. As the light dimmed, we pushed our way up, slowly. I think we took too many breaks on this 2.5 km stretch. That gave us plenty of time to shoot pics though.

As we went further up, the pain in our legs increased. So did the beauty of the place. But we were still unsure of how far we’d be able to go on. Even Buddha was kind of silent, not wanting to give us false hopes. Climbing some 70 degrees of slope with 30 kg baggage is no small deal but for people here, it’s their way of life. The treacherous path was making things difficult for us in the fading light, but since we knew that there were only 4 of us now, it’d be no good if any of us turned back, leaving even lesser hope for the rest. So the four of us trudged ahead slowly.

After around 2 hours we reached Chitrey, the first stop and our halt for the night. The short trek of 2.5 kms had taken us an impossible 120 minutes. In short, we had contributed in increasing the average time for the Sandakfu trek. As if we cared!

We lodged at Hawk’s Nest, the only available place for staying at Chitrey apart from the small Buddhist monastery nearby. The place was the home of a courteous couple who seemed much at ease even with the four of us crowding their small place. The thumba that we had in the evening in the company of the wrinkled old man (the father of the man of the house), was just what we needed after the tiring trek. Sweet and acerbic, it left a tingling sensation in the mouth. The old man began snoring after gulping down an appreciable quantity of thumba. The trick of enjoying a warm thumba is patience. One has to pour hot water into the bamboo tumbler and allow it to assimilate the taste of the millet and barley that form the crux of the wonderful drink.

‘We make it from barley and millet. They are boiled till smooth, and then yeast is added. This mixture is kept closed in a container for 2 days. Thereafter it’s taken out, cooled and put in bucket,’ we were informed.

‘So, do you guys have it regularly? Is it a daily drink?’

‘Well, it is a daily drink but we don’t have it everyday. My father has his on all evenings though. Since it’s not intoxicating, nobody has problems with it.’

We asked the couple if life was tough for them. ‘Well, we get on fine. There are the lands to farm and there are our cows. We have to go down for all things though. When the weather’s bad, it’s a problem. So, we horde all that we can for the winter. One can’t complain about the place one has made home you see’. We stared at one another.

The man went on, ‘You people must’ve travelled a lot! I haven’t travelled much, but my family is all scattered over. My sister is in Amsterdam and my brother is in Belgium.’

‘My parents named me Phuntsok, meaning peace in Tibetan. In Tibet now, there’s anything but peace. We came here a long time back. I did my B. Com. and then I found out that studies are of no use to me here. And by then I’d met my beautiful wife. So we came here and settled down. And now we have 3 citizenships – of Nepal, India and Tibet. Isn’t it amazing that while our kitchen is in Nepal, our bedroom is in India?’

We came to know from Phuntsok about rhododendron wine known as Kuraska Raksi in Nepali. ‘It’s different from what you people get back home. Try it out’, he suggested with a mischievous smile. When we teased him into telling us how he got his beautiful wife, he recounted a story passionately.

‘There’s a custom in these parts that the groom has to lift a 80 kg stone at the bride’s place in order to stake claim for her hand on the marriage day. Thankfully I was spared the pain and the embarrasment. Elopement has its own rewards. I wonder if I’d have ever got married if the path of marriage had to pass through the stone-lifting torture. Everybody in our family has eloped and married, my brother, my sister, everyone. I just followed the family tradition. Everybody talked about it for sometime but reconciliation didn’t take very long.’

Having a tasty egg-curry-roti dinner in Nepal, we returned to India to sleep a little while ago. As we rest for the night under the warm quilts in the cold hut, my thoughts go to Amsterdam and Belgium and back to this happy couple who are perhaps happier than the happiest people I’ve seen.

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Tags: Chitrey, Landrover, Maneybhanjan, Mirik, Places, Sandakfu, Sandakphu, Sukna, Trekking, Treks