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Dazzling lights excitement and joy everywhere. Local musical groups performaing door to door, Deusai bhais singing “Aahai, bhana bhana bhai ho”,  drinkers going way too outrageous. This Tihar fianlly comes to an end, leaving us all filled with emptyness.

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For me, this year’s Dashain was completely different, filled with excitement and joy. We went to visit different places in Darjeeling, Kalimpong and in Sikkim. People rushing around with their kids to meet elders, loud music playing in every shop, drunkers hitting the jackpot on the road sides, it was entirely quite a sight.

Darjeeling and Kalimpong had a different sight, people wearing “Daura Sural”, and ladies wearing “Chaubandi and fariya”. In these hills, people are obliged to wear traditional gurkhali dress for some political reasons. But backin Gangtok, it was quiet, unlike usual days few people roaming around, this hustle center seemed to embarace rathar unusual stillness.  I wonder where do people go in Dasain?

The Himalayas is a mystic adventure for many people especially from the west and the far-east. Grand white mass of mountains, dark forested hills, beautiful waterfalls…the list of rhetoric are endless. They all seem to attract the discerning travelers as the bees to flowers. The memories are sweet nectar.

My 3 hrs hike to Taktsang Monastery in Paro, Bhutan was one that transported me to an era that I thought existed only in a digital studio in some corner of Hollywood. Bhutan has always prided herself in the ‘Thunder Dragon Kingdom’ ruled by a benevolent King. So, it is a surprise not to experience that in Paro, a truly picturesque valley. There are many things to do in Paro…from admiring the Dzongs to lounging in discos. Since I am not a party animal I took the path that gradually takes one through the blue pine hills never dropping in altitude until one has the view of the unbelievable work of art resting heavily on the mystical Buddhist legend. It is so powerful…that you accept the translation ‘The Tiger Nest’ probably as immediately as Yeshey Tshogyal had transformed herself into a Tigress on whose back Guru Padmasambhava flew to the grand rocky edifice in Paro in the 8^th Century.

He stood on the bridge over the River Mutha.

‘Oh, how cruel this world is, how thoughtless we are! How silently you bear!

Oh, how beautiful you are still. I wish I could be of some help. Oh, how insignificant I am!’

A man approached the bridge with a heavy plastic bag. He hurried along the pedestrians’ walkway and emptied his bag containing trash over the railing. The plastic bag with all its filthy contents poured down the river. The papers floated, the dirt plunged and the dust played with the warm breeze.

The traffic over the bridge concentrated only on the traffic lights. Hundreds of people passed by and no one said a word. Scores of people walked over the bridge then, no one said a word. The man walked away after emptying the bag and throwing it along with the dirt.

He opened his mouth but no words came. He looked at the plastic bag slowly settle on the river current and float.

A woman walked on the bridge, stopped suddenly and fiddled inside her handbag. She took out a small crumpled paper pack and emptied the content over the river. They were grains. The grains quickly scattered on the river currents and became invisible. Further down a flock of birds and ducks played on the shallower part of the river.

He smiled.

It is not the journey or the destination that is important because neither of the two comes to a stop in one’s lifetime. The days and nights are inevitable, so are movements or thoughts…or life. Both are processes of living defined by the rotation of the earth. But we become tired because the process of growth is extraordinarily elusive. It doesn’t matter how far you have traveled or how many lovers you have had in your lifetime or how much money you have earned. Satisfaction of mind is the justification of the luxury that we own. Life is cloned. Life is repetitive. What we do today is not anything different from what others have done before us or will do after us. The picture is different but the process is the same, the enthusiasm is the same, the achievement is the same…the feelings same. Life is not a mystery. Nothing in living is a mystery.

“Teesta (female) and Rangit (male) were born at the sacred lap of the Himalayan Mountains. They grew up together happily and as they became adults, secretly they began to love each other. But their secret story didn’t last forever, people got to know about this and started talking things about them.  So they decided to leave the place, to go some somewhere they could be together forever. This place was no where but the valley where hill meets the plains, Lepchas called it “Pazook” which means place covered with dense forest (Now near Teesta bazaar).

Both didn’t know the path to “Pazook”, so the Rongnu (Teesta) took Parli-Bu the snake as her guide, and Rungit went with Tut-Fu (Danfey) the bird. It was like a little race, who will reach first.  Snake with agile body reached Pazaok in time, but Tut-fo (Danphey) had taken a longer road thought the rocky and difficult terrain. Being hungry he stopped on the way to collect insects for his food. On the other hand Teesta was waiting for her love to arrive.  When Rungit finally arrived, he was so ashamed to be defeated by a female even though fault was not his. So he decided to go back to his usual home back in Himalayas. As he started returning the water of the river began to rise up, swallowing the valley and the hill. All the people living in the valley gathered up to the Meanom and Tendong hill to save themselves from the deluge,  the water was still out of reach in these hills.

They began to pray to the god to save them from this evil deluge, they offered “Chi” to “Itbu-debu-rum-doar” the creator and destroyer. Suddenly a bird appeared called “Kohom Fo” and drank the “chi”, and water then began to subside slowly and that was the end of deluge. Peace and happiness once again prevailed at the land of the Rongs, and people started celebreting Tendong Lho Rum Faat festival after that.