Sharing Time And Space - Travellers

I turned from the security check and entered the Departure Holding Area at the Paro Airport. There were passengers who’d reached before me sipping hot tea, reading a magazine or a newspaper, some of them looking out of the windows at the Paro Dzong in the distance. There were a group of Indian tourists who were chatting loudly, their hands gesticulating wildly as they spoke; I chuckled silently. A few Westerners were also present amongst the crowd, all of them focussed on what they were doing, be it reading or working on their laptop. Some of the faces in the room seemed familiar, I didn’t know their names, let alone know them well. A curt nod and a smile sufficed.

I made my way to an empty seat and kept my bag in an adjacent seat. If I wasn’t in Bhutan, if I were in some airport in India, I’d plug in my iPod earphones and tune out the crowd; but here, as I prepared to leave my home, I wanted to take in as much as possible, all the sights and sounds.

You know that feeling when you’re in a crowd alone, all your senses just get amplified, your eyes are keener, and your ears hear more, you are more aware of your surroundings. Well, of course you wouldn’t be able to do that if you have a phone or a music player with you, I’m talking about just the bare you and the crowd around you.

The same thing happened to me at that time, I was keenly observing my fellow passengers, after all, I was going to fly in the same plane as them, headed for the same destination; it certainly wouldn’t hurt to know who you’re travelling with, would it?

There was an old Indian couple; the lady wrapped in a shawl, the gentleman with a muffler around his neck, a woollen hat on his head. Both of them wore glasses and were reading from the same magazine, and whatever they were reading was making them happy, both of them had warm smiles on their faces.

Then there was this Bhutanese man somewhere in his forties, dressed in a crisp shirt and trousers, and neatly polished shoes; even when he was being casual, he had a certain formality about him. I surmised that he must be a government official headed out for some official business, a conference or a study trip, he definitely wasn’t going on a holiday. How did I know that? Over the years I’ve noticed almost all government officials travelling abroad for work dressed similarly with a briefcase in their hands. And our gentleman had one leather briefcase with him – my guess had to be correct.

Another Bhutanese man was on his phone and just as one call ended, he’d be on another. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, his shades dangling from its neckline. I guessed that he must be a businessman out on, well, business. He could very well have been a contractor or something of that sort, but he definitely had to be from the private sector. Going by his demeanour and the number of seemingly endless calls he made, he seemed to be a fairly successful one. Here was someone who had struck big.

A group of youngsters were standing near the window, looking out at the runway. They posed and took pictures. My guess? They had to be students headed to college definitely, and I bet this was their first flight ever. They were all dressed in stonewashed jeans, one of which was precariously hanging on to its owner’s behind, and t-shirts with captions on them. They had those colourful shoes – green, red, orange – and those were huge shoes, much huger than their feet.

You know the thing they say about young people – all of them aspire to be different from the rest, and yet, they all dress the same. That fact aside, these kids were embarking on an exciting phase in their lives, that which is about to come to an end for me. I was leaving for college for the last time; a tinge of poignancy washed over me as I thought about that.

The Drukair staff announced departure and everyone rose from their seats and stood in single file. I saw the boys giving way to an elderly gentleman behind them to stand before them. They might be dressed in the hippest clothes but they still had Bhutanese values intact within them. Rather heart-warming.

As the line moved forward slowly and silently I noticed something missing – there was no jostling, no hurry, no commotion – it felt as if the Bhutanese passengers were moving hesitatingly away from home, and the foreigners were silently making the final few steps away from this magical land.

With my boarding pass checked I was out on the tarmac. I took one last 360 degree look around the Paro Valley, or atleast whatever I could see of it from there, and climbed the stairs to the plane. 

I found my seat, put my bag in the overhead cabin, and exchanged pleasantries with the gentleman seated next to me. He was a teacher in a school in eastern Bhutan, headed abroad for his Masters Degree in Science. I asked him if he knew one of my Uncles who is a teacher in a school in that region, and with a huge smile he said he did. As they say, everyone knows everyone in Bhutan, well, almost.

I looked out of the window as the plane taxied down the runway; I didn’t want to look at the safety demonstration that was going on. A few minutes later the plane’s wheels left the tarmac. The thing about flying from Paro – within five minutes of takeoff one can see the Greater Himlayan range of mountains, amongst them Jomolhari shining closest and brightest. One just has to hope for clear skies.

The college kids were taking pictures of everything they could see out of their windows, the businessman pounded hard and fast on his laptop, the government official was chatting animatedly with another man who also looked like he was in the government, the elderly Indian lady was lying with her head on her husband’s shoulder, both of them wrapped in one shawl.

As we skirted among the clouds, the food and beverages came and went. I made small talk with the teacher, read the Tashi Delek in-flight magazine, made a trip to the lavatory, and prepared for landing.

It was a smooth landing. The plane slowed down and taxied to its parking bay. As soon as the plane stopped, the Indian passengers on board and a few Bhutanese got up and started unloading their luggage from the overhead cabins. I noticed the elderly Indian couple and a majority of the Bhutanese just sitting calmly, waiting for the plane doors to open. The doors finally opened and the passengers started moving out slowly, with me bringing up the rear.

Once inside the airport terminal, a sudden sense of hurry had engulfed everyone. My fellow passengers were frantically getting through Immigration, picking up their luggage from the baggage claim, and moving out pushing their luggage trolleys at almost a run.

I managed to chat with the group of boys and learnt that they were indeed headed to college, and I wished them luck at that. I retrieved the elderly couple’s luggage from the baggage claim and helped them arrange their trolley. I saw the government official walking towards the Duty-free to check out their liquor range. The businessman was on his phone again, walking fast towards the exit, tugging his small suitcase behind him. The teacher wished me luck and a safe journey, and I wished the same back to him, and he was on his way out too.

I had a long wait till my next flight so I sauntered along at my own pace, taking time to check out the Duty-free Shop, stopping at the coffee-shop for a chilled Mocha, and after a few phone calls, I was outside.

I walked into the Departure Holding Area at Paro Airport two hours ago, spent the next two hours amidst complete strangers and here I was, alone in the crowd again. In that two hours, being with that group of strangers seemed strangely comforting. We shared the same space, breathed the same air, and were part of each other’s lives for that brief time we spent together. And just as we all met without so much as a “Hello”, we parted ways without even a “Good Bye”.

Isn’t life that way too? We all meet in life, some as family, and some as friends, others as mere acquaintances, and a large number as strangers. Yet, we all part from each other, we go our own ways, and what better example than the final goodbye itself, when we leave everyone behind and move on into the unknown. We meet only to depart, and only with a select few, we depart only to meet again.

I entered the domestic terminal for my next flight and checked in. With the boarding pass in hand I made my way to the boarding gate, bought myself a newspaper, plugged in my earphones and tuned out the crowd.

The Gift of a Smile

It was March, 2006; we had just finished high school and set our eyes on college. I and a couple of friends decided to go see the Paro Tshechu. It was a hurried plan and we made it there on the 3^rd day. We stayed at one of my friend’s cousin’s house in town. As much as we wanted to witness the masked dances and be blessed by the Guru Tshengye Thongdrol, we were also there to have fun at the fair that had been set up for the festival, at the very end of Paro town.

The Tshechu Grounds

Trashi Gomang

On our second day some more friends joined us from Thimphu. We witnessed the dances, my favorite among them being the "Dance of the Judgement of Death", in the morning and made our way to the fair in the evening. We stayed in another friend’s empty apartment the next night. Her family was really warm; they made us really comfortable, we had home food, and our conversation carried on till the wee hours of the morning.

Shinje Chhogyel in "Dance of the Judgement of Death"

On the day of the Thongdrol we woke up really early and made our way up to the Tshechu grounds adjacent the Paro Dzong. We had to leave our cars in town and walk all the way up. It was an immensely moving experience to move with the crowd towards the breathtaking Guru Tshengye Thongdrol and seek blessings. After we prayed and sought blessings we silently looked on till the sun came up and the Thongdrol was rolled up for the year.

Guru Tshengye Thongdrol

As we watched the dances and walked amongst the numerous stalls that were put up for entertainment I felt a tug on my Gho and turned to see an old man grinning at me. He was dressed in his festival best, his face covered in innumerable wrinkles and his bald head shining brilliantly in the blazing sun; but apart from all this, what caught my eye, and made me and my friends smile, was his ear-to-ear grin. He had very few teeth and one amongst it stood out prominently in his upper jaw. It was a toothy smile, quite literally!

I and my friends wished him Kuzu Zangpo and he wished the same back to us. He then said, “Soelra Chi Zhugey La” (can I have a gift please). Our smiles widened; but before we proceeded to part with our money we asked him to do us one favour, which he was more than willing to grant us. I whipped out my camera and asked him to pose. 

He gave the best toothy smile he could muster and as I caught the moment in my camera, that image was burned forever in my mind. Here was a man who had been through so much in his life, if that could be surmised from the wrinkles on his face or the sparse hair on his head, yet he still had that smile and a child-like fervour about him. If anyone asked me what Gross National Happiness meant, this would be my answer!

 We all gifted him some cash, he thanked us, and then he was lost in the crowd in the next moment. Though we “gifted” him some money, I reckon he gave us a gift for which we could never repay him back – the “gift” of his toothy, childish, smile. 

Kodaikanal - The Princess of Hill-stations

Recently I wrote about Ooty, the “Queen of Hill-stations.”

A year before I paid a visit to the “Queen”, I went on a similar batch trip to Kodaikanal, considered the “Princess of Hill-stations”. It was March, 2008. We reached Kodaikanal on my 20th birthday.

Kodaikanal is in Dindigul district of Tamil Nadu, in South India. The etymology of the word, “Kodaikanal”, suggests that the name came from the Tamil words which stand for “gift”, “summer”, and “forest”.

Kodaikanal lies in the Western Ghats, a series of highlands in Southwestern India, giving it a subtropical highland climate. Temperatures are cool throughout the year because of the altitude (around 2100 metres).

The Silver Cascade is a majestic waterfall which lies on the winding Laws Ghat Road, on the way as one drives up from the plains of Dindigul to Kodaikanal. The waterfall originates from the Kodaikanal Lake. Many souvenir shops and tea stalls line the wide bend of road near the waterfall, and is frequented by a large number of monkeys.

The Kodaikanal Lake is the centrepiece of the Kodaikanal Town. The star-shaped water body was converted into a lake from a marshy land by the early British settlers. The lake is sustained by the retreating Northeast Monsoons which bring rainfall from October to December. 

The lake is spread over 60 acres and surrounded by a 5 kilometre road that runs its course around the perimeter of the lake. One can hire pedalos and row boats from the Kodaikanal Boat Club and do boating on the lake, or hire bicycles for a trip around it.

Kodaikanal Boat Club

Dolphin’s Nose is a flat rock jutting out into a deep valley below. The breathtaking chasm is 6600 metres deep. The eco-trail that leads up to this point is lined with many tea stalls.

(A better picture of Dolphin's Nose can be found here.)

The valley below...

Pambar Falls lie within walking distance from the Dolphin’s Nose. The locals also call it the “Liril Falls”, after an advertisement for the Liril soap was shot here in the 1980s.

Pillar Rocks is a set of three gigantic rocks standing 122 metres high. It can be seen, on a clear day, from a viewpoint inside a local garden.

Guna Caves, also known as “The Devil’s Kitchen”, are a series of caves that lie in between the three giant pillar rocks. A popular Tamil movie “Guna” was shot here thus leading to the name. The narrow ravines are now closed to the public due to the death of a number of tourists.

Other popular locations to visit are – Bryant Park, a botanical garden home to nearly 325 species of trees and 740 species of roses, among other plants; Coaker’s Walk, a paved walkway with an observatory which offers a panoramic view of the plains; Green Valley View, also known as “Suicide Point”, which offers a view of the surrounding planes.

The Buddha Dordenma Statue

Around the time I left for college in August 2006, work on the Buddha Dordenma Project began on a hillock overlooking Thimphu. The media touted it as the “largest Buddha statue in the world.” It is a statue of the Shakyamuni Buddha, the present Buddha.

The project was initiated by the Menjong Chhothuen Tshogpa and the chief sponsor was a Singaporean businessman, Rinchen Peter Teo, and the rest of the donations came from within Bhutan and well-wishers from abroad.

Bhutanese sculptors built a 12 meter high model statue of the Buddha and it was taken to Nanjing, China, to a Chinese company called Aerosun Corporation. They were to build a bronze statue and transport it to the site. The total cost of the whole operation was estimated at US $ 20 million.

The site itself is called Kuensel Phodrang where the palace of the 13^th Druk Desi, Sherub Wangchuk, once stood. The palace is now in ruins.

According to the Project website, the Buddha Dordenma statue, apart from commemorating the centennial of the Wangchuk dynasty, would also fulfil two prophecies.

“In the twentieth century, the renowned yogi Sonam Zangpo prophesied that a large statue of either Padmasambhava, Buddha or of a Phurba would be built in the region to bestow blessings, peace and happiness on the whole world.

Additionally the statue is mentioned in the ancient terma of Guru Padmasambhava himself, said to date from approximately the eighth century, and recovered some 800 years ago by Terton Pema Lingpa.”

The statue and the throne it sits on would accommodate 17 storeys of lhakhangs inside it.

According to Kuensel, “The lhakhangs will have, among other things, 25,000 12 inch copper and gold gilded images of Buddha Dordenma, eight 10-feet standing bodhisattvas, eight 10-feet sitting medicinal Buddhas, 16 six-feet high arahats, King Hashang, Dharmata Tiger, Sutra Holder, and the third storey up to the top will accommodate 100,000 eight-inch statues of Buddha Dordenma.”

The surrounding areas would have public galleries, restaurants, large parking spaces, camping grounds, dharamsalas and quarters for monks.

The statue stands at a height of 169 feet, or 51.5 metres. The statue has been completely fabricated and the installation and consecration of the Dzomyu (third eye) has been performed. The Dzomyu is a thousand piece diamond studded on 18 carat gold in the shape of a conch and weighs about 10 kg.

When it is completed, it would be approximately the 22^nd tallest statue of any kind in the world and around the 15^th tallest statue of the Buddha.

A project is already underway in Kushinagar, Uttar Pradesh, India, to build a 152 (500 feet) statue of the Maitreya Buddha, the future Buddha.

A list of the tallest statues in the world can be found here.

When I complete my studies and return home next year, I hope to make it to the consecration of the Buddha statue.

Queen of Hill-stations

Ooty is sometimes called as the “Queen of Hill-stations”

Here are pictures of some of the attractions of Ooty.

Doddabetta Peak, at 2637 metres, is the highest mountain in the Nilgiris, as well as whole of South India. At the top of the peak is a Telescope House from where one can see entire Ooty town. Below are pictures of Ooty town as seen from the peak.

The Ooty Government Botanical Gardens are situated close to Ooty Town. The 22-acre garden was initially built to study flora in the Nilgiri Hills and was later opened to public.

It houses a variety of flowering plants, medicinal plants and one of its attractions is a 20 million year old fossilized tree.

Pykara Falls are the largest and last two falls of a series of cascades on the Pykara River, the largest river in Nilgiris District. The river is sacred to the local tribe known as the Todas. A dam and power plant harness hydropower from the river.

Pine forest, also known as “Shooting Spot” is a hill with a gentle ascent. One can see breathtaking views of the neighbouring hills from the top.

Coonoor is another town in the Nilgiris, home to the Nilgiri Tea. Vast areas of Coonoor are dedicated to tea plantations. The tea estates allow tourists to walk in, see the workers at work, tour the tea factory, and sample some of their delicious flavoured teas.

Coonoor is also home to the regimental headquarters of the Madras Regiment of the Indian Army, and the Defence Services Staff College (DSSC) in Wellington Cantonment. Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw was the most famous resident of this place. He was one of only two Indian military officers to hold the highest rank of Field Marshal in the Indian Army (the other being Field Marshal K M Cariappa).

Other attractions in Coonoor are Sim’s Park – a botanical garden which houses more than a thousand plant species, and the Pasteur Institute – which produces DPT vaccine and vaccines against Rabies. 

The best Rose Garden in the World

I went to Ooty with my college batchmates in March 2009. It was a week-long trip where we travelled from Pondicherry to Ooty, via Coonoor. Coonoor and Ooty are hill-stations in the Nilgiri hills, in Nilgiri district of Tamil Nadu.

Ooty is short for Ootacamund, and is also known as Udagamandalam in Tamil. It’s a picturesque town with a cooler climate than the neighbouring plains.

Ooty boasts of a remarkable range of flora because of the suitable climate. This combination draws a large number of tourists to Ooty and it is regarded as “The Queen of Hill-stations.”

Popular attractions in Ooty are the Government Botanical Park, the Rose Garden, Charing Cross in the middle of Ooty town, Pykara Falls, Doddabetta Peak – the tallest hill in South India, the Ooty Lake, Pine Forest – where Tamil movies are sometimes shot at,  the tea plantations, and the Nilgiri Mountain Railways.

The Government Rose Garden, sometimes also known as the Centenary Rose Park, is situated at a walking distance from the town. It boasts of itself as “The Best Rose Park in the World”. It won the The World Federation of Rose Societies “Garden of Excellence Award” for being the best rose garden in South Asia, in May 2006, in Osaka, Japan.

It has the largest collection of rose varieties in India with 20,000 different varieties of hybrid and miniature roses, and roses in unusual colours such as black and green.