Today’s breakfast menu is poori and saag,” announced Mr. Harka Bahadur Giri, the ever-smiling owner of a quaint homestay in Upper Soreng Basti in Darjeeling district, which had become our abode for a day as I and my elder sister's family (the Sarkars) travelled in the hills last week.
We just got up after a quiet night in the small village, around three kilometres down the hills from its more well-known cousin Tinchuley (there are several homestays in picturesque Tinchuley, including the famous Gurung Cottage, but we could not get a booking due to the Puja holiday rush and Giri Homestay was the last “resort”, pun intended). Offbeat destinations such as hamlets like Tinchuley and Lamahatta in Darjeeling Hills are becoming popular nowadays as tourists like us have started looking for greener pastures due to traffic and congestion in the main Darjeeling town, which, unfortunately, is also caused by invasion of tourists like us.
The Giri Cottage Homestay is situated beside a winding road, surrounded by lush green forests.The mighty Himalayan ranges, which provide an apt backdrop, have the power to infuse a sense of positivity into the traveller. I may take a cycle rickshaw from the sabji market to home when I am in Delhi, but here I was eager to walk, trek through unknown routes full of flowers and ferns or climb up steps to see the Giris’ vegetable and orange garden. And the food was to die for. Mr. Giri and his youngest son Manjil piled dishes and dishes of their excellent cooking on our plates. After an early morning drive along the moss-green Teesta river braving traffic jams caused by trucks carrying excited Dussera revellers and ending up on a rocky and steep road through abandoned tea bushes following a route miscalculation by our driver, we were more than eager to make it up during lunchtime by consuming substantial amount of rice and mutton curry made with local spices such as dalle khursani (round chilli). The red hot mirchi is grown in the garden of the owners, who had a tragicomic tale to tell about a guest who chewed one, confusing it with a cherry.
So, food was a focal point of our stay in Upper Soreng. That’s why “poori and saag” triggered murmurs of unease, especially among the younger Sarkars. No “aloo ki sabji”, no “chana dal”, no “begun bhaja”? We went to the small kitchen hut with some hesitation but it turned out that “rayo ko saag” or mustard greens taste superb with pooris and even someone like me, who hates the greens with the vengeance of an industrial polluter, did not mind it.
If food was one attraction of the place, the other was the absence of noise. Upper Soreng was so peaceful that our Bluetooth speaker started appearing like a weapon of crime and I and the Sarkar siblings opted for birdsong and chirping of crickets instead of Arijit Singh. Apart from a few minutes of midnight arguments by a group of tourists looking for a vehicle, it remained covered by a shroud of all-pervading silence.
Lamahatta, our next stop where we stayed for two days, was a much busier place. Its central point of interest, a park and nursery created among natural pine trees, was packed with the holiday crowd -- Maggi-eaters, tea-seekers and selfie-clickers. But our hotel, the Lamahatta Residency, was at a quieter spot. Food was just okay there, but the owners were friendly and went out of their way to help us when our driver was struck by a stomach bug just before we were to undertake a day trip to the main Darjeeling town ((around 21 kms from Lamahatta) for routine touristy activities like shopping and sightseeing. The property is three-plus years old and the rooms offer nice view of the mountains. Other than the Darjeeling trip, we did not venture out much but spent most of our time looking at the mountains and searching for the Kanchenjunga, which remained hidden behind clouds all throughout our tour. We will get up early in the morning, slide away the windowpanes and find a fading outline of the mountains behind a pale cover of mist. You can say most of my photographs of the mountains in this trip are “screen-shots”. As going to Darjeeling and not getting to see the Kanchenjunga is like travelling to a pilgrimage spot and not having the darshan of the presiding deity, we were slightly upset. But we were not the only unlucky ones. The weather had been like that for the last 20 days, we were told by Mrs. Puri of the Goodricke Tea Lounge (House of Tea) near the mall in Darjeeling. By the way, for tea connoisseurs as well as for those who would not be able to get a seat in overcrowded Glenary’s or Keventers, this tea shop is highly recommended. You can drink Margaret’s Hope or Castleton tea among many other varieties, served in a pot covered by a tea-cosy (a rare sight, nowadays) and can strike a conversation with the graceful elderly lady who knows a lot about the town and tea. The “chai” here is not ideal for those who prefer CTC leaves boiled till death with gallons of thick milk. (Not being tea racist, I too like that many a time).
In the morning of our return to Kolkata, we walked down the hills and through jungles to reach a 500-year-old Buddhist gompa (monastery). The colourful prayer flags fluttering in the wind, the stupa made as a replica of Boudhanath in Kathmandu, the old wall paintings inside the small monastery and the red-wrapped Buddhist manuscripts in the shelves evoke a feeling of serenity and mystery, especially because the place, despite being only a 20-minute walk away from the main Lamhatta, appears quite far from human habitation. A signboard said “The Lama is in Retreat”. I was thinking that there is no better place for retreat. Or, in my case, for sleep.
Kanchenjunga remained elusive. But as I got up the next morning in the city and pulled back the curtains to see columns of dull yellow buildings, I was yearning for even that mist cover we left behind in Lamahatta.
(October 2018)
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