Gangtok
 

I closed my eyes and pictured the scenery outside the window. The Himalayan ranges in front rose several thousand feet. To the north the more distant ones rose higher still, until the very last and fifth set of ranges emerged like a crest covered in snow. Facing us to the east were two very wide mountain ranges that seemed to step forward to meet our own range in the valley below. Two gurgling mountain streams ran down their sides and met in the valley. Both ranges were covered in forest. A few tiny pockets of human habitation were lost in their wide expanse. It was a picture of near pristine natural beauty. 

I saw the ranges time and again in the different hues of nature’s light, sunlit with rich colours, or in a haze of diffused sunlight scattered by the morning mist, blanketed in white clouds or sometimes visible only in parts, the ridgelines serrated by silhouetted trees, as if standing on a march to heaven, the beginning and end of which was lost in the oblivion of white clouds. It was strikingly beautiful!
 

We spent a few days in Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. My foremost recollection is of the gorgeous Himalayan ranges that surrounded the east facing range our resort stood on.

How had the ranges escaped the ravage of human activity overtime and kept their forest intact? Perhaps the proximity of the Indo-Chinese border gets some credit. The Army, someone explained, had cordoned off the ranges to secure the forest, which can act as a natural boundary and throttle an enemy army advance. The Indo-China border that ran through the Nathula Pass, was on higher ground still at 14,000 feet, and only 50 kilometers to the north-east. That was perpetually covered in snow unlike Gangtok which at 6,000 feet had a couple of months of snowfall each year.

A picturesque school, ‘Yelli’, stood on one of the two ranges that came forward towards the resort. It appeared distant and secluded. No hamlet or hut on the range around it. It was a lovely sight with a few small buildings on either side of a large open playfield with a little brown path running down its centre. At break-time students would come out to play, especially, when the sun was out. The field formed a glade in the mountain’s forest. I’d look at it and wonder where they got their provisions or medical care from? Was it a boarding or did the students walk long distances on these scenic slopes to get to it each day? Whatever convenience they sacrificed, the beauty of their dwellings must’ve surely made it worth it.

Gorkha’s and Lepchas, from Nepal, are native to this land. Family names like Thappa, Rai, Limbu and Bhutia are common.  Immigrant settlers from Bengal are not uncommon. The general impression from meeting many of the locals was that they were happy, healthy, helpful, often soft-spoken, hardworking and honest folk.

Hill men and women could be seen toting gas cylinders on mountain roads to get them exchanged at the cylinder shop.  This was an unfamiliar sight. Neither weight nor incline seemed to deter them. Not unexpectedly though one often saw children in uniform walking distances to get to school.  We were told medical facilities are sparse in these parts but walking allows the local to stay healthy and do without them. 

Narrow mountain roads demand great driving expertise when negotiating oncoming traffic.   Interestingly, often these negotiations were carried out in silence and the person who needed to reverse a vehicle to make room for the oncoming one did so without being asked. Our local taxi drivers would enthusiastically point out Baichung Bhutia’s, India’s famous football captain’s, childhood school on the mountains and most people seemed to be keenly aware of the cricket World Cup 2011 schedule which was taking place then. Taxi’s wont ply on the day India plays Pakistan in the semi final, we were told.   Once a diamond ring left behind in a room at the resort we stayed in was found intact by its owner after the housekeeping staff had cleaned it. 

A population of about 6 lacs is quite small for a large land like Sikkim and perhaps another reason why its natural beauty has remained largely preserved. The land is divided into four districts and simply named East, West, North and South Sikkim.

The road to Gangtok from the closest airport at Bagdogra, in West Bengal, is a scenic 124 kilometer course which for most part runs along the beautiful Teesta river. Before one crosses the border into Sikkim at the Rangpo village, one comes across the confluence of two important rivers, Teesta and Rangeet. There is a sharp contrast between the deep green-blue waters of Rangeet and the khakhi-green waters of Teesta. The confluence is clean, tranquil and devoid of human settlement except for a nice Hill Council resort. The scenic spot has perhaps inspired a Lepcha folktale.

Rangeet and Rangnyoo were two spirits deeply in love with each other, who once decided to depart from their highland abode and meet at a place in the plains below, taking the form of two rivers and charting different paths. As men are wont to do, Rangeet tried to get there first and asked a hill-bird to be his guide. The lady, Rangnyoo, asked a serpent. The hill-bird took fancy to the many passing delights en route, such as fruits and flowers, and made it a point to pay them a visit and so Rangeet charts a wayward and vacillating course to the confluence. The serpent made a better guide and in single-minded pursuit of its goal set Rangnyoo on a straight and direct path. Rangnyoo, of course, got to the confluence first and when Rangeet eventually arrived he exclaimed ‘Teesta’, a slightly altered form of which meant in Lepcha language, ‘When did you arrive?’  The name stuck and the river was called Teesta ever since. Yishey Doma has authored a book on this and other Lepcha folktales.

Picturing the scenery outside my window with my eyes closed gave me goose bumps and I felt hair on my forearms stand on end. Beauty perhaps has an energy raising effect on one’s being similar to something like taking a sweet. Ruskin Bond once noted that the plainsman goes to the hills for the needs of the spirit where the hill-man goes to the plains to earn a living. The Himalayas can instill awe and reverence and can uplift and inspire. They have been the abode of sacredness from time immemorial, the abode of gods, saints and sages. Their magnificence and perhaps the frequent upward direction to the gaze that the summits provide seat the human awareness in a higher realm within and so forge the bond between the spiritual and the beautiful mountain.

_{Author: Ruchir Bansal 
Photos:  Ami, Kumud, Vinay and Ruchir Bansal
Information Sources:  Wikipedia, Lepcha Folktales Yishey Doma
Updated:  April 4, 2011}