Do college trips to isolated places on earth really bring strangers together? Or is it a misnomer from some urban legend just drifting through the old and new pages of generation?

Nearly half a decade ago, I went on my first college study tour to Asia Plateau, Panchgani. A week long furlough from the usual hustle and bustle of civilization, devoid of any cellular device seemed harrowing at first. It ticked me to a point where I was irritated and wanted those seven days to just pass. However, my perspective changed when I finally arrived to the destination. And before realization could actually hit me, I just didn’t wanted to leave that place.

I witnessed my batchmates bonding, sharing their darkest secrets and agonizing life experiences. Everyone came out of their protective shells and for once they all didn’t hesitate to shed off their toxicity for a while. Everything seemed perfect. And just like that, seven days passed in a jiffy. We were back to Pune only to leave for our respective internships. It didn’t take much time for all of us to go back to our regular self. Perhaps, the toxic environment where we so wishfully thrived wringed all our graciousness. Or maybe we were still kids struggling with immaturity?

Whatever the case may be, for me, that trip became the only beautiful memory from my three year long undergrad college life. I use to wonder if anything would remotely surpass that experience of mine. Fast forward five years and there I was picking my chit that’ll determine my destination for deprivation study tour at Asian College of Journalism.

“Please be NJP, please!” my heart muttered with anticipation as I eyed the numerous chits lying on the table. The ‘so-called’ NJP trip was much hyped by the professors who’d planned it all. It was supposed to be eventful and I for one didn’t want to miss out on ‘eventful’ . And as my luck would have it, the chit I picked had ‘NJP’ written all over it in bold.

Happy and anxious, I went outside and hugged Sanchita, a good friend who too picked a chit to NJP.

After a gruelling two months of college, we all went back to our homes for the winter break. This was the part that I loved and hated at the same time. Loved it because home is a germane place to go to when you are physically and mentally jaded, exhausted and washed out beyond your wits. Hated it because the respite was just 15 days long and as they all say, you can’t get enough of home. Also because that meant I had to return on January 1 in order to safely board my scheduled train on January 2.

AND IT ALL BEGINS

December 30 arrived before I could even straighten my legs properly. After an electrifying New Years party, I set off for Chennai in the wee hours of 2019, with my parents dropping me off to Varanasi airport. The rest of the day was pretty much spent travelling. From Varanasi to Mumbai and then finally reached Chennai late in the evening. I spent the rest of the day to bespangle my slum report and dozed off as soon I as was done in fear of not waking up in time and eventually missing my train

Oblivious to my foreboding panic, I woke up early so I could attach pictures to an already embellished report. To my dismay, my laptop refused to read the memory card. After struggling with it for an hour or so, I finally got it to actually detect it. By the time I left for college to submit my report, it was 9;15 and by the time I boarded my Uber for Chennai, the clock was running at 10:05.

Driving through bottleneck traffic jams was not the kind of thrill that I was seeking in this trip. But before my heart could literally pop out of my mouth, I was standing in front of the red colored station building, clutching the handles of my saffron colored travel luggage suitcase. I was trying my best to carry my sleeping bag, my camera bag and my backpack at the same time. And by time, it was 10;30 and I had good half an hour to reach my reserved sleeper coach.

THE JOURNEY ON TRAIN

Day 1

After settling my things near my berth, I finally sat down in a very congested space that was already occupied by students and professors. My seat was taken by a senior TV professor and I tried my best not to fall off the edge as everyone around me rummaged crazily to shove their belongings in whatever orifice they could find.

Just like the Panchgani trip, I sat there ruffled and exasperated out of my wits. Firstly, the temperature was searing and then my anxiety played wicked games with my mind. At that point, almost everything and everyone disgruntled me. People sauntering up and down the narrow passageway, the godforsaken pungent smell emanating from the toilet, the raucousness of hawkers shrieking at the top of their lungs, not having a window seat to myself, contemplating thoughts about travelling in a sleeper compartment for a whole two days with so many people, the anger of being ditched by my group of college friends whom I loved and cared for as my own, the homesickness…and the list was endless. I justed wanted to fast forward this trip so I could come back and conceal myself from the world in the cozy confines of my PG.

As the train pulled off from the station, I started looking around to find a comfortable place to sit and calm myself. Amidst the commotion, that task seemed impossible but trying was the only option. Especially, if I wanted to avoid any awkward conversation with the professor sitting on my berth.

Five hours into the journey and I was jumping from one berth to another, scurrying like an opportunistic Hyena waiting to pounce upon a window seat. Luck got the better off me when I finally found an apt seat. That somewhat soothed me a bit and it was only going to get better or so I told myself.

My eyes transfixed to the scenery outside that was in a state of flux, people around me were having a time of their life. Some were getting stoned, others were getting sloshed. I had a fair share of every recreational (ahem!) substances.

The rest of the day was pretty much spent in interacting with my batchmates who hailed from different streams, expulsing sighs(among other things) while hunting for decent toilets. As the sun set on day one of travel, my irritation also simmered down. And just like that, while trying to stretch my legs I drifted off to sleep….only to be woken up by the person whose berth it was.

In a state of drowsiness, I waddled towards my berth which btw was still occupied by the same TV professor. But a berth next to him was vacant. “Lucky,” I though to myself as I went to take one final leak.

When I returned, I saw another professor sleeping on the very berth where I was supposed to sleep. Disappointed, I was told to go to another coach where supposedly there was one seat vacant.

The journey from coach S10 to S7 was an excruciating one. Why? Because people were lying on the floor left, right and centre. Hence, in the pitch darkness, I had to carefully put my legs so I don’t trample anyone. That gave me the feeling of playing Russian Roulette, but nonetheless was bothering. Finally, when I reached my new berth, there was someone else sleeping there whom I had to shake vigorously to budge him into action. After many failed attempts, he woke up and left the berth for me. I simply slumped and slept afterwards.

Day 2

Everyone was covered in cozy blankets but I? I woke up because of the frigid temprature that I was not anticipating. The clock read 5:30 AM and the train was standing at Vishakhapatnam station. In order to feel warm, I got up and started moving around like a frantic horse so I could generate some heat. By the time sun was back up in the sky shining and glistening fervently, it was back to warm but lukewarm(not scorching fortunately)Day two of our journey basically witnessed people taking far many liberties. Like smoking in the coach itself from the window and not going to the toilet to do the same. The routine started by a TV professor soon became a usual shenanigan for smokers(like me).

In some aspects, it was better because I’ll be there sitting by the window looking outside with bouts of nicotine kicking in my system like a first edition Maserati. It felt tranquilizing.

The second day on train was relatively better than the previous day. I was not irritated, infact I was somehwhat looking forward to this trip with high hopes and time was moving fast now.Singing songs with my batchmates with the help of an ancillary speaker, making small talks about our expectations from NJP, hogging on food(err..snacks?) and momentarily drifting off to our zone where we numb out what’s in the background.Day 2 was also the day when I bonded with Gyaneshwar. A mad lad from Gorakhpur, U.P. While in college, I had limited interaction with him up untill now. A brief ‘small talk’ when I’ll pass him while walking towards college or a nod of acknowledgement . He was from a different stream and so was I. Hence, that somehow limited our possibility of getting to know each other. Even though, he came from a place that I could relate to with all my vital force, we never actually bonded.
But perhaps a monotonous train journey was what it took to establish the yoke of friendship.The night swept in and the temprature fell down to an all time low. My thin, parrot green jacket and a half T-shirt didn’t help the cause. Everyone with their blankets and warm clothes seemed to cozy up while I sat there trying to stay warm by rubbing my palms and hugging myself. Odd…I know. Around 11, an individual selling strolls sauntered through our coach. I stopped him midway and bought a fancy-looking stroll. It didn’t look warm but when I wrapped it around my body, somehow the placebo effect kicked in and I felt somewhat warm… momentarily.Trying to use it as a blanket, I discreetly laid down myself on a vacant berth and tried my best to sleep. To my utter surprise, I did but I kept waking up in-between shivering vigorously. That night was freezing and the train running at a break-neck speed didn’t help. I don’t know how many times I would have cursed the college authorities for not booking our tickets in an AC-3 bogey.

I constantly thought to myself that I will succumb to hypothermia. But guess what? I survived. Half an hour prior to reaching NJP station, everyone woke up and started gathering their belongings at one place. I woke up too but because of the adrenaline rush, the cold seemed to subside.

I paced towards my luggage and took out my inner and a thick jacket.
“Dude, you could have done this before, ” my inner-consciousness screamed at me.The train docked at the station at around 5:30 in the morning. And finally, the whole delegation of students got down on the solid ground. It was liberating that the excruciating journey finally came to a halt.

Dragging our luggage to an overhead bridge, we were asked to disperse, freshen up, have breakfast and to report back so we could commence our journey to Pabung.After loiteering in the station premises, I made my way outside. The hullabaloo of morning was starting to take its shape. The shops were open and there was a neat line of restaurants right in front of me. As one walks past through them, individuals would try their best to convince you to come and dine at their place. But till then, there was already a ‘word of mouth’ advertisement of a restaurant called ‘Annapurna’ that was serving delicious breakfast. And the truth wasn’t far from it. I had a sumptuous breakfast in the form of Aloo puri that was palatable.Once everyone was done with their chores, we all gathered outside the NJP station where we were briefed about where we were going, what to expect, the standards do’s and don’t’s  and well we were ready to embark on a journey that will probably change the course of time for some and for others it’ll be an interpersonal trip to the abyss of their souls.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

SOMEWHERE IS PABUNG- Day one and beyond !

Traversing through broken, rocky roads, meandering pathways, glimpses of dried out Teesta, verdant, towering hills and a brusque stop near a majestic dam, we reached our hamlet in Pabung…or somewhere in Pabung. Because no one knew where Pabung was for it’s sheer expanse in all possible directions. As we stepped outside from our occluded jeeps, we were greeted by the tranquil gust of sierra breeze. It felt refreshing as we gyrated our heads to take in the view of small cluster of houses, all neatly built in the backdrop of lofty mountains. The sun rays right before dusk broke through the overcast sky. It looked enfeebled yet divine as it casted its glistening glory on gently swaying trees.

There is lot to talk about my seven days in Pabung. I can talk about the people I met or about varied cultures that unraveled before my eyes. I can talk about the deprivation stories I did and about the nearby villages where we had to walk to.

But perhaps I would take a rain check on that because at this juncture, it’s important that I tell you what made those seven days livable. What possibly brought five individuals together despite being immensely different in nature and personality?Before we jump into that, let me give you a visual imagery of where we stayed. On one side of the road, there were number of houses and a cattle shed. Just adjacent to it, on a hill top, there were 3-4 small houses which one could climb to with the help of a rocky pathway. And on the opposite side of the road, there was a hut that was supported concrete walls. Let’s just say girls stayed near the cattle shed, where the kitchen was situated, guys stayed on the opposite side of the road and the professors resided on the hilltop.The concrete hut had two rooms. One with beds and one with mere mattresses on the floor. Despite being the first one to call dibs on the room with beds that by the way had a door with sequined curtains that you’ll most likely find in some shady bar, it got occupied by other guys in a matter of minutes and no one was ready to compromise.Well fortunately, for me I had to settle in the room next to it, with no beds. I could have fought but I chose not to. Not over some petty room with beds. But oddly enough, I grew an affinity towards it. It had cozy rugs and being huddled between five other guys was experience sui generis. For almost a week, when it will be nail-biting cold outside, we found some way or other to keep the room warm(No homo obviously)I discovered this especially on the first day of arrival when I was bedraggled beyond doubt and I dozed off before dinner into a sweet slumber. Tired beyond my wits due to the train journey, the room provided me an unparalleled solace.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The first day of trek was crazy. Along with my chirpy pal Sanchita, who was the only person whom I knew really well from college, we walked towards a village called Lungeli. Sanchita or Sanchita Jain as she is known in the college, was among the first individuals who became my friend. My previous roommate from Pune and her old school classmate became the common ground of our amicable reunion. And that was the substratum of our friendship.Sanchita is someone who is quite confident in her approach. Not only is she a dazzling diva who’ll be mistaken for some sophisticated model with all the oomph and sass, but she is also one servile individual who’ll go to any lengths to keep those close to her happy. An innocuous, sociable soul who’ve been nothing but good to me for the better part of my ACJ stint.

The first day was gruelling to the core. Not only did we walk on properly built roads but occasionally we rummaged through shortcuts that were comparatively moiling to traverse through. My cowboy boots didn’t help and to my despair I had a laptop backpack with me that somehow increased the level of difficulty of the trek.But even though I walked more than 10 kms, I was able to push myself because I had Sanchita and Gyaneshwar by my side and when you have people around you with whom you could interact with, the excursion becomes ten times easier.The day, even though took a toll on us, we planned to reward ourselves by consuming the local rum ‘Millenium Sikkim 2000’. A legendary rum with numerous adjectives and connotations attached to it. According to some, after you drink this aqua vitae, your body will experience the surreal sensations of 2,000 horses running through your body. For others, the partly brown, partly hazel with some tinge of dark yellow texture of the liquor resembled horse piss.For what it’s worth, it took me three pegs and the cold dissipated away. Like someone straight out of Harry Potter’s book waved their wand and the chills that ran through me turned delightsome, making way for warm, ardent feeling to encompass me in it’s wake of indulgence.

The effect of the ‘Ghoda Rum’ was clearly visible on my drunk mates too. Gyaneshwar and Sanchita chuckled merrily at jokes while I partook with some sick(read crass) humor of my own. The light-headedness wasn’t extreme and was the apt amount to cherish the moment.

That evening, to my utter surprise, I ate food. All my reluctance and all my hesitation faded way as I chomped from my plate, a dish of rice and potato. It was delicious and it tasted even better because I was famished.

With some substance other than alcohol in our stomach, we waddled down the broken steps and towards the lone stretch of the road. The sheer tenebrous lull of the night was illuminated by the sky full of stars above us. And as we looked straight, the city lights afar from Kalimpong and Darjeeling looked picturesque. The twinkling canopy of billion stars and the magnificence of the lights at a commodious distance complimented each other seamlessly. Just like some jugalbandi between a tabla player beating his fingers to the tune of ‘keherwa’ and a classical singer vocalizing taans in taar saptak

The din of the nightfall was filled up with occasional laughter and hushed conversations but for the most parts, the piercing silence in the bounteous cradle of the Pabung cuesta filled me with hope.

I slouched against rocky support right there on the road with my head tilted up, admiring the resplendence of the luminary extravaganza. The three of us, now substantially intoxicated were expressing our gratitude to each other. I told them there was a genre of photography that involves stars and astronomical objects but as tiddly as they were thought I was joking.

After spending some 30 minutes in that inexplicable rapture, we toddled back to our respective rooms. Midway, we met Priyanka Kaul and Aman Khanna who seemed appropriately amused at our congenial predicament. But Priyanka was more than amused. She was intrigued the moment we told her what he and she declared flippantly that she is eager to try this mystical rum the next day.

And that is where I would like to equate Millennium 2000 to Big Bang. Since Big Bang started the inception of the universe, who would’ve known that the ‘Ghoda’ rum will bring five individuals together for better or for worse in the coming days?

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The second day of the trek luckily gave me an opportunity and a lot of time to get to know Priyanka, since she was trailing us to the village of Lower Samalbong.Our conversation started at a very basic note where we asked each other where we were from, what we studied in our undergrad, what we aim to do in future etc which later segued in a more deeper and meaningful discourse where we discussed about depression, our sundry experiences in life and our respective journey at ACJ.

So who is Priyanka Kaul? Priyanka Kaul is someone who likes to remain discreet with her guards up and would be seen quite seldom participating in ineptitude shenanigans of this wretched world. A Kashmiri Pandit with an enchanting set of eyes and equally captivating eyebrows which by the way bears an uncanny resemblance to some butterfly (according to Gyaneshwar!). Like Sanchita, she’s a human adhesive that can bind people together. Immensely affable, her love for chocolates is unparalleled.The way down to the lower Samalbong area was a joyous one. Especially the encounter with one primary school in between. The rendezvous with small school children filled us with glee. It made me reminisce my internship days with Teach for India. With a camera dangling around my neck, I clicked all I could before continuing our journey further in the village.Climbing down seemed like a cakewalk but climbing up in order to reach the main road was daunting for all of us. Even though there were steps built for our convenience, the ascent was steep, cragged and never-ending that left us jaded in the end.That certainly called for a jubilant alcoholic treat and so we assembled in front of the kitchen. Gyaneshwar, our jugadu friend went down to procure our godly spirit from his personal source while we gave our legs the much-needed rest.

People were pouring in slowly for the evening tea. The kitchen had already started preparing for dinner and everyone was discussing what they did and where they went.
It was almost ecstatic to see people still enthusiastic even after a gruelling day.

Gyaneshwar’s return heralded our segue into a bizarre, crazy and memorable night that will leave everyone scarred(in a bitter sour way). The cap of the cheap plastic bottle popped up and out came the tickle-brain that was poured evenly in three plastic glasses.

In no time, we gulped down three pegs of booze. While mine and Sanchita’s was cautiously mixed with coke, Gyaneshwar and Priyanka guzzled down the magic spirit on the rocks.

That’s where the fifth and final individual make it’s entrance quite subtly. Aman Khanna joined the party but still refused to drink. In fact he was ready to observe our alcoholic libations for the night. We obviously welcomed his open arms.I somewhat knew Aman from college. Even though he hailed from TV stream, we would occasionally interact in the college premises or the Capri. Who is Aman Khanna?
Aman is a fair-skinned lad from New Delhi whom I’ll define as someone who was sensitive in nature. This trait of his evoked all the other traits like empathy, generosity and a comradely attitude. He would take 15 minutes to comb his hair in the morning and would leave no stone unturned to raise the spirits of everyone. With a big heart, a jaunty smile and a zealous nature, he wore his words on his sleeve like a sincere individual.

Aman’s arrival made him susceptible to our brimful love and affection. We all were sloshed by now and we were speaking/ranting our emotions honestly. For instance, I was expressing my anger and hurt towards my previous group of friends and was trying to explain to the curious beings what actually occurred with them. That lead to honest confessions about each other where I remember lauding Aman, Gyaneshwar, Sanchita and almost everyone present in the room with praises.

As we treaded further on the other side of the spectrum, we all laid down. (Un)fortunately for Aman, he got sandwiched between me and Priyanka. We both exuded love and adulation for the person between us. While I gently stroked his hair, Priyanka kept mumbling something incoherently. On the opposite side, Sanchita and Gyaneshwar were having a banter of their own. Both of them sloshed out of their mind. The rum did its magic again and I was feeling light and insubstantial. Just like some fallen leaf drifting away in the waft of air.

But perhaps that was the big lull before the storm. Just after few moments of lying down motionless and in relaxation, Priyanka mentioned that she was feeling giddy and pukish. We took it as an anodyne statement since we all were comfortably reposed inside a thick layer of the quilt. Hence, a position like that most certainly won’t incite a disgorging response. Do you think second time’s the charm? Well no, we didn’t pay heed to that either. But as soon as she repeated herself that she wants to puke and she wasn’t feeling well, we were caught off guard. Sensing what was coming, Aman and I took our position so we could get Priyanka up and take her outside where she can barf to her heart’s content. But guess we were already too late. Priyanka got up in a tizzy and puked all over the quilt and the mattress, barely missing the two of us. We sprang like a monkey and dashed towards the door where we stood trying to sink what just happened.

Priyanka relentlessly asked for some polythene or paper bag and Aman fished for it in his backpack. Luckily, he found one and he handed it to Priyanka. Giving her some space, we moved out into the cold to determine what we’ll do and how we’ll do it. Just like that, the night turned a bit more adventurous.

In an hour’s time, the news of the mishap reached the adjoining room where 16 odd people were getting stoned. They started pouring in and pouring out to see what was the whole fuss about. Meanwhile, Gyaneshwar escorted Sanchita back to the girl’s room, in an inebriated state of course. Priyanka sat in our room, sick and embarrassed with what just happened. As I frequently came and checked up on her, she kept asking me and the others to stay out. However, we tried our best to console her and tell her that everything was okay and she need not worry about anything.

Gyaneshwar wobbled back to the room and slumped onto the mattress that was covered in puke. He passed out covering himself with his sleeping bag. Priyanka, now under a blanket was lying maladroitly. The other occupants started arriving to retire for the day but due to the foul and unpleasant smell that filled the four walls, they started making alternative arrangements to sleep. Gokul came and took his sleeping bag with him to sleep where the professors were, one guy settled in the other room leaving me, Aman and Rishabh to figure out the logistics.

But before that, we sat in the room till Priyanka dozed off to sleep. Once she drifted to the Sierra lands, we contemplated the idea of sleeping outside in our sleeping bags. But owing to our good fortune, there was a kitchen just outside the premises of the house that was made out of wood and was covered with a tin roof. Something better than nothing! we thought as I tried to make heads and tails of my sleeping bag in the pitch black darkness. At least my sleeping was being put to some use.
Once we were settled, the effect of rum started wearing off. My skin could feel the cold creeping in. But more than that, our fatigued bodies were more invested in resting. Hence, we slept in no time. The night was cold and hard but still was nothing compared to what we endured on the train. Hence, we had no complaints.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Day 3 started rather early for me because I woke up to some hubbub outside. It was wee hours of dawn and my nose seemed frozen up from inside. I decided to check on Priyanka whether she was alright but was surprisingly greeted by the trio of Gyaneshwar, Sanchita & Priyanka.

Gyaneshwar filled me up with what happened after we fell asleep. Apparently, Priyanka went back to her room around 2:30 AM and he woke up in a dazed state around 3:00 AM slowly realizing what had occurred there. Taking the onus, he took the blankets and the rug to have it washed and in return brought back Phenyl to clean the room spick and span. Then he eventually took a bath at 4:00.

Honestly, I was impressed by how he took the responsibility without even thinking twice about what to do and what not to do. He did the right thing and he deserved the applause for that.

Priyanka was now feeling better than before but reeling with a bad hangover and Sanchita was in a bad mood for some reason. They both came to collect their bags and coincidentally I woke up at the exact same time when they did.

They took off after taking their belongings. And I went along with my morning chores.

Contrary to what I thought, the day started planning well for all of us. At 9:00, we set foot for Singee Bazaar. The sky was clear with hyacinth hues and the sun shone brightly upon us. Priyanka was regaining her usual self and Sanchita was faring well with the hangover. Good luck came pounding on our door when we got an unexpected lift on a mini truck to Singeee Bazaar. Instead of walking all the way there, we instead rode to the tune of the fresh morning breeze that replenished our energy like never before.Our time at Singee Bazaar was a pleasant one, since we were not tired and there were all sorts of shops and eateries around us. The place seemed like some out of fiction mythical novels. Especially after a grotesque night of drinking. Everyone frolicked around with their camera rigs and equipment, trying to find stories and shots. Some explored the region, others rewarded themselves with some piping hot plates of momos and snacks.As for the rest of the day, it was spent lazily in walking around the small marketplace, making our way to the public library, the PDS place and onto the road that winds towards Santhal region. We clicked pictures, indulged in friendly banters, played with cute puppies on the road and interacted with all kinds of people(lunatic and sane). Until it was time to board our jeep and head back to Pabung.The evening set in to mark the upcoming birthday of Sanchita Jain. What more? We got incredible news that we’ll be going to Kalimpong the next day in pursuit of our stories. It felt as if our days of tolling were over and we had this smile plastered on our face that Sanchita will get to celebrate her birthday properly.

The evening was also drenched in murkiness since there was a power cut in the village. My cellphone battery was on its last legs when we came back to our room. The very room that stood witness to our crazy shenanigans the other night.

The needles of the clock move slowly when your phones succumb to low battery. We are so used to our dependable gadgets that carrying out any productive conversation becomes a challenge. Due to the power cut, we grooved to Tamil versions of remade Hindi songs, shared our paranormal experiences but mostly sat silently basking the darkness around us.

Gyaneshwar made his entry and started uncorking the remaining bottle of rum. Then he offered to make us a peg to which our collective and unanimous reaction
was “What the fuck dude?” Really you want us to drink again after the last night fiasco?” He thought we were just kidding but we were not. Seeing our disinterest, he closed the bottle back and we went back talking about ghosts and supernatural things. Gyaneshwar even gave us a pornography trivia regarding something called ‘flubber’. And we laughed crazily with the newfound knowledge.

After a while, we got bored. The power hasn’t come back yet and we wanted to do something different than just lying around like some rugged dolls in a casket. So we got up and ventured out into the darkness. The night was pitch black with nothing but distant city lights from Kalimpong to guide us. Walking down the road towards a sequestered home, we spotted a dying out bonfire with almost exhausted flames flickering incoherently.

The night was cold and we needed warmth. So we cantered up to the bonfire and made ourselves comfy by sitting around it. If I could aptly describe the star-laden sky on that particular moment, I’ll need to find better adjectives to justify the beauty of it. With no artificial light pollution, there were more stars glittering and coruscating than I had ever seen in my life. It was surreal, majestic and in some way remedy to our grief-stricken souls. Seeing these people around me laughing and talking was pleasing. I felt this rush of equanimity throughout my body that sanctified that experience into a memory that will graze in my conscience for years to come. In that moment, we were not just four individuals who happened to come together due to a particular circumstance. We were a group, a team, a bracket that encompassed our various strengths and flaws so immaculately.

We were so immersed in that episode that we couldn’t even fathom how time flew by and it was midnight. Cheers and best wishes filled up the air as we welcomed Sanchita’s birthday some miles from Kanchenjunga. We gladly toasted and chortled at each other’s jokes while Sanchita was getting bombarded by her well-wishers. Especially Priyanka pointing out to how she said ‘like’ in every sentence.

The flame almost fizzled out and Gyaneshwar took some swig from the bottle of rum. It was getting cold and cold every passing moment so we called it a night. However, before we could do that, Gyaneshwar enhanced and accentuated the harmony of the moment with his drunken stupor. He was sloshed and he showered everyone with compliments. Especially Priyanka who became his lab rat for some of the most innovative and whacky praises a drunk person could come up with. He commented that Priyanka’s eyebrow looked like a butterfly which made us burst into laughter. He was unknowingly addressing Priyanka as Sanchita and vice versa. Soon it turned into a racket of sorts. The loud noise had us concerned about the complains. And so we started making efforts to calm him down.

Through trial and error, we managed to make him understand that he should sleep. I escorted him back to the room where he made his bed carefully. Hell, I was glad that I was sleeping in a room and not in some decrepit kitchen. Seeing everyone back in the room signalled that the normalcy had been bestowed upon us.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The next day, almost everyone were excited to go back into the civilization. A huge chunk of us were going to Kalimpong and what better day it could be than Sanchita’s birthday. She was feeling lucky that she doesn’t have to celebrate her birthday with bare minimum. Her luck became ours too when we boarded a non-congested vehicle with enough space for everyone to settle in.

Road journey was Kalimpong was a lovely one. The car system was playing some Bollywood mashups followed by upbeat Nepali numbers. It gave us the feel of traversing through the mountains, as we kept encountering tea gardens and plantations. None of us wanted that journey to end. Priyanka was back to her usual self, Sanchita was enjoying the gentle breeze hitting her face, Aman was singing along with the music and I was sitting in between Sanchita and Aman taking delight in car ride.

By early noon, we reached our destination. The moment the cars parked, everyone stormed a momo shop nearby to fill their stomach with some late breakfast. Also because they were unsure whether they’ll get anything of this sort again for the remaining days. After addressing a special press conference (that was especially organised by the ACJ students) and a brief tête-à-tête with the District Magistrate of Kalimpong, we were on our own to do whatever we wanted to do.

So we started scouting for good restaurants and cafes where Sanchita could treat us with some delicious food. A smitten Priyanka and I searched for gift shops where we could find something to gift Sanchita. After some hunt, we entered one shop and bought her her gift. Meanwhile, Aman followed our lead and to his joy, the owners were Punjabi. They suggested us a proper North-Indian restaurant because of the camaraderie struck by Aman.

We headed to “Lama Din’ restaurant which seemed close on the map but nevertheless was a decent walk away from the main market place. Seeing so many people, cars and shops around me was a pleasure because we had been cut off from the city life for a good four-five days now and the civilization gave us an assurance that we’ll be back soon to our usual lives.Sanchita’s birthday luncheon was the best part of the day. We wolfed-down and manducated the dishes on our table like some glutton. We ate like it was no tomorrow. We ate like it was our last meal. We at e to our heart’s content and we ate till our stomachs were full. We all blessed Sanchita for providing us with grub because all everyone has been eating in the village so far was plain rice and vegetables.

The crunch of naans layered with butter and the succulent curries on the table satiated our hunger. That was followed by a group picture together and by the time we were out, the sun was already down and the dusk was setting in. That’s when we started getting frantic calls from the teachers to assemble at a particular point so we could start our journey back to the villages.We ran and we rushed panicking that we’ll get scolded. And to our dismay, we did. But fortunately the teacher in-charge wasn’t as angry as anyone of us were anticipating. So i was all cool. Tired with the day and full to the brim, almost everyone dozed off during the return journey. Slowly and steadily, we moved farther and farther away from the city until it eventually became the same gleaming hub of light that one could easily spot from the village.

But our day didn’t end just there. After a small break, we assembled at our bonfire place. It gave me enough time to charge my cellphone and relax a bit. To recommence Sanchita’s birthday, we asked the owner of the house to make us a bonfire. But, Abhishek (owner) did something more than that. He woke up from his sleep and offered his own firewood. He helped ignite the fire and ensured that we were comfortably seated. Seeing the hospitality, I was blushing with admiration for the people of the hills. Due to their forthcoming nature, Sanchita got to end her birthday on a happy note.That evening, all of us sat in a sober state and talked about clichéd topics like the best moments from our lives, things that we love etc. For a change, I was in a group that was not blatantly indulging in toxic bad-mouthing and bitching about other people. The conversations carried some impetus and profoundness and everything about the experience was positive. We were happy and we were exuding joy in that moment. Sanchita celebrated her birthday the way she wanted to. And we started it with a bonfire and ended it with one.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Our second day was spent in Kalimpong too. Those who had to pursue leads for their deprivation stories got the chance to visit the tinsel-town once again. Since Sanchita, Priyanka and Aman had to do some story, I tagged along. One has to be nuts to forgo an opportunity of that kind. While nothing in particular unfolded in Kalimpong except running around the city hospital to get quotes from officials or visiting the nursing training Institute, two different things stood out. One was the overcast weather that shrouded Kalimpong in a phantasmagorical shroud of romanticism, other was Priyanka’s inextinguishable crush on the strapping DM of Kalimpong.As we strolled through the familiar market place, I indulged her in illusory and whimsical scenarios of them ending up together as a couple. Teasing her and vexing her all along till her cheeks turned red. Fortunately, for her, we visited the ADM’s office with a made up question just so Priyanka could take one last but everlasting glimpse of him.The interaction with him was going smoothly and Priyanka was all starry-eyed when her allergy intruded out of the blue. So we rushed outside after a hasty goodbye and comforted Priyanka who was coughing uncontrollably. Some romantic stories end tragically but this ended rather abruptly and somewhat comically. We left his abode with hopes in our heart that someday her knight in shining armour will sweep her off her feet.

For the remaining part of the day, we roved here and there for sovenier to buy and gifts for friends and family. As for me, I walked the entire stretch of the market thrice trying to find something that would appeal me. Eventually, I ended up in an underground alley where they were selling bootlegged electronics. Since I didn’t bring my speaker, I haggled and bought a local JBL speaker for Rs 800 to entertain us for the remaining days.The speaker proved very handy on our way back to the village. We played new and old songs as we glanced at Kalimpong for one last time. That evening we broke our sobriety.

Back at the bonfire site, Sanchita and Priyanka ordered a traditional Nepali drink called Dungru and interviewed the people about the same for their story. While Abhishek rolled us two joints for us in a local customary manner, we all settled for our last bonfire night.

Spirits were soaring high, and so were we. Through the stellar pathways of starry constellations shimmering away in the glacial night of early January, we blended with the universe. The cigarette made doobie hit us slowly but steadily like an oncoming toy train and I swooped deep into the untouched parts of my individualism, twirling and prancing to the perfect rhythm of taciturnity.

Aman took a sip from Dungru and grew reticent all of a sudden shriveling into his own shell. Priyanka was stoned but laughing at everything we said or did. Gyaneshwar and Sanchita were taking turns in sipping the beer from the boonies. And I was observing each one of them in their gemütlich spaces, just being in that moment all by themselves.Being stoned has it’s minor setbacks. As I sat there in silence, almost everyone(except me) were hit by a realization that none of this will stay the same when we’ll return to Chennai. Even though that thought was depressing, in that moment, it seemed real. On one hand, I thought we all came together because the trip demanded to be and on the other hand, I thought one doesn’t need a circumstance or a situation to come together.

The flame started dying out on us and so I volunteered to bring some wood along with Gyan. While he rummaged through something in the darkness, I stood there tripping my balls out, hallucinating the fuck out of my mind. The time slowed down and then it sprung up like a Cheetah and sped faster than the speed of light. I felt everything dissipating behind me. The bonfire, those sitting around them and even Gyan. For a moment, I felt I was standing there alone. And just like that, it all came back in a jiffy. I felt chimerical.

We spent a little more time snickering and laughing like a drain.
But when it started getting chilly, we made our move and walked back to our rooms. Because I was tripping, I felt like time was reversing and fast-forwarding everything that I was doing. Even walking felt like reaching a destination and then going ten steps back. But once inside the room, my eyes felt heavy and I disappeared in the land of nod.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Just like that eight days of deprivation were over. What seemed like an interminable task in the beginning was now mere fragments of unforgettable memories and togetherness in a strange land. The last day in Pabung was here and it came with an impenetrable blanket of clouds. With the sun rays blocked, the weather turned rosy.

The day kick-started with an impressively put together cultural show by the local villagers. It consisted of Lepcha dance and folk music that set the ball rolling and brought everyone on the floor grooving and dancing. The amusing scene there looked nothing less than a fair. It lasted for an hour or so after which we were free to do anything(except going somewhere far due to unpredictability of the weather). With all our stories completed, none of us were able to make a consensual plan. Some wanted to go to Charkhole that was a two hour walk from there and others wanted to stay back and relax for the rest of the day.After much brainstorming, we decided to stay and roam around the vicinity for the time being. We trudged along the road and went to Abhishek’s house where the Lepcha singers and performers were having their brunch. Sanchita, Aman and Gyaneshwar, like a bunch of excited kids posed for a photograph with them. One of the singers in particular was drunk and infatuated by Priyanka. It was a riot.We bid them goodbye and Aman proceeded to use Abhishek’s kitchen to cook something with eggs. Abhishek rolled another joint for us and we sat there munching on packets of Kurkure and Lays. Getting high in that weather and surrounding was a totally different experience. It felt like gliding through the valleys and mountains like an eagle, independent and powerful. Even the dish of omlette that Aman cooked was scrumptious.
We laughed away the whole afternoon and then proceeded to go back to our room.

Since I was somnolent, I fell asleep in no time while listening to some songs on the speaker. We were waiting for Gyaneshwar and Sanchita who disappeared somewhere and didn’t join us back in the room. It was drizzling outside and the sky was painted with reddish orange hues. While I slept to music, I woke up to music. I was in a trance so the first thing I did after waking up was to dance like a hippy in my quilt. That did achieve the purpose of making everyone laugh.As for the rest of the evening, we slouched lazily from one place to another. We were lethargic and our bodies had given up. We just wanted to let ourselves go and veg out to our individualistic satisfaction.

Gyaneshwar wanted to drink something so I accompanied him to procure some liquor from Abhishek, who then took us to some different house downhill through bushes and steep rocks. It was crepuscular and dangerous so I decided to wait for them at a safe spot. They scrambled down the crooked pathway and after some time, I saw flash lights approaching me. Gyan got a small bottle of ‘Honey Bee’ brandy that was enough for two people for the night.We made it back to the room where Sanchita and Priyanka were waiting for us. They had a delightful dinner of desi chicken and now seemed visually exhausted. Since I was in no mood to get drunk, the brandy was happily shared between Sanchita and Gyan. I engaged them in a rendition of ‘Aaj jaane ki Zidd Na Karo’ while Priyanka and Aman had dozed off beforehand.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

And with that, our sojourn in Pabung ended. The next morning, we got a lip-smacking of breakfast of rice, egg curry and french fries. Atleast ten to twelve jeeps stood in a queue and people were loading their luggage. It was time to bid adieu to the beautiful place that became our temporary nest. It fed us, nurtured us, taught us and guided without qualms.Oddly enough, the farewell was not that sentimental as I was anticipating it to be. We just hopped into our cars, waved our hands and gazed as the hamlet disappeared behind us. Not only that hamlet, but in a couple of hours, the mountains, the aquamarine rivers, the nail-biting cold, the friendly faces of the villagers, all seemed to etiolate away slowly.We were back to the plains and were on our way to New Jalpaiguri railway station. A horrendous traffic jam slowed down our movement as soon as we entered Siliguri. We crawled like a tortoise on a 3 km road for three-four hours. On one hand we felt irritated but on the other were happy to experience traffic jams again.

By the time we reached the railway station, it was almost dark. The train was scheduled to leave by 9 and we had good three-four hours to have food and relax. Thus, we ended up in a seedy lodge called ‘Tuk Tuk Lodge’ just outside the station premises where we parked our luggage and got freshened up before we ventured out to have dinner.The New Jalpaiguri station at the break of dusk is one of the interesting places to be. You’ll find score of restaurants lined one after the another with individuals soliciting and practically imploring the passerbys to try their food. Since we knew the place where we had our breakfast when we arrived to Jalpaiguri, everyone unanimously decided to go there only.That evening we gorged upon piping hot plates of Aloo Parathas like never seen before. We finished up plates after plates and kept ordering. It got to the point when the head waiter was scowling at us and was one push away from losing his cool. Aman and I were still not bursting at the seams. But after gauging the situation, we thought it would be better to take a rain check on those delicious parathas.

After our elevenses, we came back to our bosky lodge to take an hour long rest. We dimmed the lights so the girls can sleep on one of the beds. While the guys got engrossed in their cellphones. None of us were sleepy. As for me, I was eager to go back home.The train journey back to Chennai and had its own set of hardships. But it was nothing close to what we or I endured while coming to New Jalpaiguri. Come midnight and the compartment was swarming with unwanted and unreserved people trying to push and heckle their way through anything they can find. They were sleeping on the floor, blocking the path to go to the bathroom, subtly invading our personal spaces and making girls uncomfortable with their creepy, decadent stares. Even the bathrooms were in the worst possible conditions.But on the bright side, I was around my troupe from Pabung, the cold weather wasn’t as extreme as it was before, we could smoke(up) openly through the train windows and most importantly, we were thrilled to go back to Chennai. So even though the homeward journey was cumbersome, it didn’t get on out nerves.

Two hours prior to our arrival at Chennai Central Junction, we were dancing and having fun to the songs played on my pirated speakers. As we were getting closer and closer, a feeling of accomplishment and uncertainty engulfed us. What will be the course of life after this?

The train halted around 4:00 in the evening. We cheered and screamed to celebrate making it back safely and in good health. All of us got down and started walking towards the exit. In between, we decided to immortalize our time in Pabung with one and perhaps last group picture? We were all smiles with ecstatic faces. We all learnt a great deal about ourselves and the kind of lives we were leading. It was not only educational but spiritual as well.

We hugged each other before hopping in our respective cabs. I was heading to drop Sanchita, Priyanka and Gyaneshwar while Aman was going with his hostel mates. Our cab barely drove for 500m when it got into a minor accident. Call it Chennai luck? We had to book another cab and off we went back to our usual lives.

So you must be curious to ask me one important question. That what does Pabung means to you? For me, Pabung was waking up early in the morning and to be greeted by the glistening peaks of Kanchenjunga, that’ll be shining radiantly under the glory of sun. For me, Pabung was getting adjusted to the indian-style toilets. Moving and shifting our weights and standing momentarily to ease the pain in the joints. To get stripped down to our socks they don’t get soiled in that secluded space. For me, Pabung was brushing my teeth with five odd people in the open and spitting down the hilly terrains and washing our hands with freezing water. For me, Pabung was that small and quaint momo shop that was situated in the middle of nowhere, where we use to assemble after a strenuous day’s work and use to smoke cigarettes, eat momos and take pictures in good humor. For me, Pabung was dining together like a family night after night or having breakfast early in the morning. For me, Pabung was the smiles and chuckle of children studying in a primary school, bemused with so many strangers barging into the classroom and interviewing their teacher and clicking their pictures in smart and hillarious poses. For me, Pabung meant those frigid nights where we had each other to keep all of us warm with compassion and amicability. For me, Pabung meant those villagers who welcomed us in their homes with open arms and hearts, without judging us, letting us to be the way we were. For me, Pabung was that Premika, a young school girl whom we befriended on our first day of trek. Her genuine happiness and glee to see someone from the plains perusing her village was way too honest to contain. For me, Pabung was a potpourri of sweet and sordid moments that we experienced together as a group without giving up. For me, Pabung was controversies, rumors and drama that emanated from there or afterwards in college. For me Pabung was where superficial bonds got annihilated and genuine friendships were formed. For me, Pabung was a home away from home where we had the bare minimum but we had each other through thick and thin.For me Pabung was a journey sui generis that left us wanting for more. That makes us want to go back to that same bonfire, under the same night sky, in the same winter cold to relive all those moments once again.

No one knows what other chapters will be added in this story. But no one would deny that this story will remain enshrined for eternity to come. Maybe in the form of this blog.

(This blog would have been impossible without Priyanka, Sanchita, Gyaneshwar and Aman. They are the heart and soul of this experience. So this one is for you guys)