In search

Its yet another cold winter in  Darjeeling  with the same festivities and spirit of Christmas. Some daring or off season tourists have arrived in the hope of catching snow or perhaps they are here to take part in the Tea and Tourist Festival of Darjeeling .  Over this one year or so much has changed in Darjeeling, the roads have become wider,  major drains are being cleared as the foot path shops have been removed. The road leading up from Chowk Bazaar till Chowrasta has widened. These places which used to be major attractions for the tourists for shopping have lost some of their their charm.  It's not to deny that the change is welcome but also to acknowledge that many locals in the process have lost their livelihoods at a time when the economy of the hill is recovering and is at it's nascent stages.  This Christmas let's pray that there  is lasting prosperity and peace in the beautiful Darjeeling Hills. Let us hope that people are able to live in peace and har

It's yet another cold winter in Darjeeling, the schools are closing and there is a cold sting  and excitement in the air. The anxiety of the final exam results is relieved by the holidays and games. While the old huddle indoors seeking warmth of quilts and heaters the children are out playing their  favourite outdoor games. The badminton, chungi, mascol (marbles), bicycles are out and it's heartening to see these kids play a few of those games that have been played by generations of children who have grown up in these hills.   For a person who has grown up in this place one cannot but help feel nostalgic about their own childhood and playing these games in winter, a period which is continues to be supremely the best period of the year.  However it's also sad that the numbers of children who come out to play are very less compared to those times when hardly any kid stayed indoors. On a random guess, hardly 10% children come out to play on the streets.  Play stations, Nintend

It's been three years since I have been watching this house from my office window. During the rainy season the moss on the roof grows green and in the winter it goes back to being dull and dead again. It stands tall and elegant holding it's own, long forgotten in the corner of  the Gandhi road. It is of course a beautiful house, surely built during the British era, maybe not a heritage but surely belonging to that time.  The roof and the drain has started breaking down and I can't stop wondering  whoever the owner of this house is and why repairs are never done? It's almost impossible to see this house from the main Gandhi road as it is shrouded and sandwiched between newer houses and buildings. Even I had to go to two different rooms in my office to take these pictures.Yet at the same  time many tourists who have stayed at the Northern side of Hotel Viceroy have seen this building. I cannot guarantee that they have noticed it or even vaguely remember seeing

Somewhere in the corner of my heart I still love you... Somewhere I know that you are still wanting. Someday I know you will rise and shine. I hope I to be alive to see that day. Someday I hope you will stand tall, like the Kanchenjunga that your sight beholds. The stories and legend belies your present state, which saddens the heart more and more. It's amazing to sit down and think sometimes that it's in your narrow curvy lanes that you hold your charm. The folds of the mountains that adorn your beauty. The chitter, chatter and the hourly chime that raises my spirit during dismal times It's not a dearth of good people that holds you down, for you  nestle thousands of good souls in your lap. I hope I live to see the day when all these good souls unite to regain this paradise on earth that's  Darjeeling. --Pasang D Lepcha “A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeli

Silent Prayer I ask mum if she thinks that too many people have died this year or is it just my perception. She just sighs and says maybe the seasons have been harsh for the weak and the old. Its the passing of a generation, I concede, gazing at the patterns on the table lost, each in our own deep morbid thoughts. I reflect, on how the days of our glorious past have become history today. What we did in the past are buried deep grave of memories. All that is seen today are cold monumental epitaphs with engraved letters that will fade in time. We cannot love one thing too much because it doesn’t last forever. How many tears have we shed, how many graves have we dug and filled, how many ashes have we scattered with love, longings and despair? We are today born out of what we did yesterday, yet it cannot be the same tomorrow because of what we did today. And so lets rest the heavy burdens of our aching souls today and wish each other good night and peace. Lets hope we may see each other ag

 The HImalayas Having grown up on the beautiful lap of Himalayas, the omnipresent sight of the mountains has always brought joy and peace into my heart. Later I was told that the people of my tribe hold the mountains sacred and pray to the mountains. They said it is the source from where all things begin and end, and it’s the doorway to the fabled Mayal Lyang (paradise) of the Lepchas where time has no beginning and end. In the initial part of my life I never tried to understand what the mountains meant in my life or why it meant so much to me. I only knew that every time I looked at the glorious Kanchenjunga my heart would leap with joy when I was sad, it would calm me when shaken and confused, and help me reach to the sacred part of myself that I now call soul. I revere the mountains because of its beauty and magnificence. It shows me how pure, sacred and pristine it is covered in a halo of snow. Its so beautiful and yet stands alone, unmoved in solitude with unmatched

here is posting something I never posted:- The city: 2nd Jan 2008: So crowded yet so lonely; endless roads leading to oblivion. I shared my loneliness with the lone billboard flickering in the fumy night; the wait for the bus seemed endless. The song on the radio stringed together the pain of my heart and the loneliness of the city while the choking fume of the passing cars blended me into the morbidity outside.How long do I need to wait to breathe the fresh air with warm sun on my back? How long before I see the mountains lying on the grassy countryside? How long before I am where I belong? Life is about the choices we make and this is my attempt to live in harmony with my choices. ... that was then, now its different but we cannot forget our roots for that moment in time shaped us to be who we are today. - Pasang D Lepcha\