It must have been very long since I wrote a travelogue on this blog. I got down today to jot my experiences at Dharamsala, hoping to conclude it with a short post on spending three days at the charming little town. I got carried away and let the words flow, stretching it long enough even before I began and forcing me to split it into more than one installment. Here is the first. See part II and part III
McLeodganj is split into three worlds. A modern world offers all the creature comforts, largely targeting tourists who flock into this worldwide headquarters of Tibetan Government in Exile. Another world belongs to the Tibetans themselves – with their monasteries and housings spread across many corners of the small town. This world is like an island, a small place unlike its surroundings where you see unusually large congregation of people who have escaped the clutches of Peoples Liberation Army of China. The last of the three worlds belongs to the old residents, largely Gaddi Shepherds, who have lived here for a long time.
It was first of three worlds that hit me the moment I alighted from the bus at the small square at the heart of the town. “A lot can happen over coffee,” said a loud colourful sign which seemed to be bent on transporting me back home. It could perhaps have comforted me with the cliched feeling of being at a ‘home away from home,’ but I could not take any of it and quickly made my way to Bhagsu – once a quaint little Gaddi Village that is now a backpacker’s heaven.
Bhagsu is at the edge of greenery, reasonably far away from the restaurants serving ginger lemon honey, falafels and mueslis but close enough to reach there in fifteen minutes of walking when needed. The Himalayan slopes rise quickly on the other side of the village, where magpies caw happily as they hop over tall conifers. But Bhagsu is no heaven, which it perhaps was once upon a time. Ugly backpackers joints spread across the village haphazardly as Gaddis who own the land have discovered an easier way to make a living instead of roaming the remote mountains along with their sheep in bitter cold weather. Guesthouses and restaurants have sprung up in every corner, making it an effort find a quiet little place of stay that offers a good view.
Thus began my three days of discovering the abode of Dalai Lama. But don’t let my ramblings discourage you. No sooner I settled down, I put the complaining parts of my brain to rest and saw plenty of good things in McLeodGanj. The air was crisp and the weather was pleasant, though it was beginning to get a little chilly with the onset of winter (second half of November). It was a clear day and my balcony offered views of the plains below somewhere very very far away in Punjab. Between the plains and me were several layers of hills painted in the morning blue gently fading into the plains. Immediately below me was a valley where a stream gurgled and sang happily on its way down the hills, surrounded by green grass, pine and cedar trees. It was all quiet but for an occasional caw of a magpie or an even rare honk of a vehicle carrying a tourist up or down the hill.
On the other side, up the hill and behind my guesthouse, the mountains climbed steeply till the snowline at Triund. Somewhere on either sides were snowy peaks which remained hidden by the hills around me, but visible after a good walk to a vantage point.
It must have been nearly four years since I made a visit to the hills on my own and reflected on the charm of cedars without having to keep company of anyone else. The crisp air, the quiet surroundings, the scenery and perhaps the good vibes from Tibetan Monks quietened my mind and subdued its train of thoughts. I put aside all my plans for three days at The Ganj, let my camera rest in the room and dedicated most of my time to walking in the hills, a bit of reading and sunning in the balcony. It was going to be a holiday for my mind, body and hopefully the soul as well.
I began my sauntering along the small road that connects Bhagsu with McLeodGanj, which was going to be my favourite walkway for the next three days. I could happily go up and down in this short road that goes through an empty stretch flanked by tall trees, pausing every now for a good look at the valley and then at the tall peaks to the other side. Few vehicles took this road and occasional chai shops kept me energized when needed.
I spent a few days in McLeodganj or Upper Dharamsala in November, walking on its narrow roads and gazing at the mountains, trees, birds and Tibetan Buddhists. Being the home of HH Dalai Lama, you see Buddhist Monks and Buddhist symbols in every corner of McLeodGanj. Before I arrived at Dharamsala, I had made plenty of plans about places to see and things to photograph. I was getting a feeling that my three days would be so packed that I will hardly manage to get the feel of the place. But there was a sudden change the moment I arrived in town. I kept my camera away and spent most of my time in Dharamsala walking in the beautiful hills, often aimlessly and randomly. I did not find the need for a schedule. I did not find the need to go see all things that must be seen. I did not wish to get busy with the camera. I simply let the days pass from moment to moment and spent most of my time walking in the hills. Only on my last day in McLeodganj did I spend a few hours taking pictures. Here are some of the images of the Buddhist world in Dharamsala captures in those few hours.
Prayers wheels on the way to Dalai Lama Temple in Dharamsala
Prayer wheels – handheld ones.
Prayer flags fluttering near Dalai Lama Temple
A stupa or chorten with prayer flags in the background
A Buddhist Monk carving mani stones. Mani stones are tablets bearing the sacred mantra – Om Mani Padmehum
A mani stone
Devout Buddhists prostrating at the Dalailama Temple
A monk on the streets of McLeodganj
Finally.. an elderly lady with rosaries in hand, walking on the circumambulation path around Dalailama Temple
As I write this, I am trying to think how Gangtok is different from any other hill stations. Like its other counterparts, Gangtok too has its share of some great views, a large number of hotels and a dedicated shopping area. The local travel agents have perfected the process of herding the tourists with three-point, seven-point and nine-point tours. I am unable to find anything to set Gangtok apart, except that it is yet to become a big fat dot in the tourist map. The number of people arriving here is probably much less than what you see in Shimla, Manali or Ooty and the number of hotels here are also not as many. But Gangtok is catching up, and catching up fast. The Government of Sikkim is doing everything possible to increase inflow of tourists year after year.
Yet, there is a feel good about Gangtok that you don’t necessarily see in other hill stations. You are less likely to see touts rushing after you the moment you arrive, trying to squeeze every bit of your money. You don’t see any kind of solicitors troubling you as you walk on the roads. People here are still nice and friendly. The hills around the town are still green and are not littered with hotels and resorts. Even the shopping street is so well managed that I don’t feel the claustrophobia that I tend to feel in other such places. Gangtok is still beautiful.
And the most beautiful part of the town is perhaps the zoo spread over a large area. When we started planning our first day in the town, I suggested that we go to Gangtok Zoo first.
‘Would you really like to see the zoo?’ some one responded immediately.
In return, two of us who had been here earlier said quickly in unison – ‘it is a beautiful place.’ It is an open-air zoo spread across a large area on a hill with plenty of space for each of its inhabitants. A zoo is indeed a confined space, but the sloth bears, snow leopards, pandas, civets and wolves living here still have plenty of space to walk around in their large enclosures. Sometimes these enclosures are so large that you won’t be able to see them without waiting for them to emerge from the woods. A family of pandas, a family of bears and a bunch of civets living here seemed happy, considering that they live in confined spaces, but a leopard and a Tibetan wolf looked lonely and brooding.
The paths that connect these enclosures go through thick woods and bamboo groves running for several kilometers. The cool weather of Gangtok has allowed a large number of flowers to bloom along these paths, forming bright yellow and purple dots in the woods.
Lingdum Monastery is located in a quite place in the middle of woods – the kind of place perfectly suited for spiritual pursuits. The facade of the monastery is a long two-story structure with large windows. A long wall of prayer wheels stands on the open area in front of the monastery. The monastery looked large, but I wasn’t prepared for what is inside.
As I walked through the front door, I was taken away by what I saw. Standing in the center of the monastery, surrounded by thick woods on all sides was a superb seven-story building adorned with Buddhist symbols all along its walls. In front of it was a wide open space where several young monks were on a learning session. The maroon-robed kids were dancing gently to the sound of drums in small groups, swaying their hands and occasionally jumping back and forth. Behind them, the tall tower rose high, superbly decorated with vibrant colours and beautiful paintings. In the next minute or two I took a few pictures of the monastery, but soon realized that in the short evening I was to spend here, I would rather sit quiet and take in the peace of the atmosphere than go on a clicking frenzy. I put away my camera and walked alone quietly along the monastery, feeling a sense of peace growing within me. As I write this, I realized that the experience of being in the monastery was beyond words and stopped making further attempts to describe the inner joy of being in the place and experiencing a feeling of nothingness, a feeling that nothing else but being there really mattered.
A video of monks practicing their steps by Sankara.
As the sun made his way beyond the ridges and the last rays of light kissed tower of the monastery, we retreated to our resort walking away unwillingly from the monastery. As we drove into Gangtok town and walked amidst revelling tourists at the shopping center, I wondered if these monastic retreats played a significant role in keeping the people of Sikkim friendly and in keeping Gangtok a hill station that is a lot more charming than its counterparts.
