In the Land of Thunder Dragon

I got my first chance to witness the Great ranges of Himalayas as I went to our tiny neighbouring country Bhutan, the land of thunder dragon. Having spent all my life amidst the endlessly monotonous Ganga plains, I wondered how majestic the ranges could be.
Crossing the familiar plain topography by train, I reached Jalpaigudi, our last destination by train. This was the town that would lead us to an onward journey to a world where slopes defined the limits. As our bus moved on, I saw Emerald green forests drenched in September rain, crystal clear streams vanishing under stone beds and a chill in the air told us we were close to our destination.
By night we arrived at Jaigaon, a small town I West Bengal sharing its border with Phuntsholing in Bhutan. The landscape was submerged in the darkness of night and half of our belongings were wet as it had been raining continuously. I went to my Hotel room to have a peaceful slumber, without knowing what morning would unfold.
Next day as I opened my eyes, not expecting too much as for me my destination Bhutan was beyond the artistically painted gate of Phuntsholing. As I looked out of my window, the scene took my breath away. Bright greenhills, bathing in the morning sun, welcomed us as tourists from a distant land.
Entering the territory of our neighbour, I realized how similar it was to the landscape on the other side of the gate and totally different from the land I came from. In a few hours, we were literally walking above the clouds.
Thin string like streams came down the slopes and disappeared in foggy clouds. Bare rocks looked as if nature’s chisels had worked on them, to create a masterpiece.
I was taken aback by nature’s beauty, but what surprised me even more was the serenity such rough landscape held within. Monestries and Dzongs made in traditional Bhutanese style showed the Bhutanese sense of harmony and culture. Prayer wheels and prayer flags dominated the scene all over the country. Religion was everywhere yet there was no politics involved with it.
The peaceful attitude reflected everywhere specially on the clean pitch roads on which people drove without blowing horns, and in the same context it’s quote worthy that Thimpu is world’s only capital without traffic lights.
I witnessed a change in myself as I realized how calm were the people in such tough terrain and how rough and dry our lives were in the smooth plains that provided everything. The calmness I experienced made me see the spiritual side of the Himalayas and the people residing there.

Travelling in a Delhi bus???

Transport in Delhi is an expensive business, especially if you are new in the city. Coming from town that starts and ends in a radius of some 25 kilometres, travelling kilometres each day seems to be a Herculean task; at least in the beginning. In the national capital moving without a personal vehicle was nothing short of a challenge for me.
After sticking to auto-rickshaws for a while, I decided it wasn’t good for my pocket. Metro was for selected routes, unfortunately not in route I was travelling on. As all the Delhites do, I decided to make buses my friend for travelling.
I consulted some of my relatives to get an idea about the bus routes and fare. I was told about the blue lines, DTC and white line buses. That was the time before blue lines became killer lines. It was a hard job to remember all those data like bus numbers and almost every day I had to ask someone or other, which bus to take. But remembering the bus number was not the worst part of my journey to start.
Travelling in a bus in the busy morning and evening hours was the toughest thing I could have ever imagined. As I stepped inside a blue line bus in the busy morning hour, I thought my first concern would be to find a seat or rather a place to stand. It was not the only thing to worry about however. I found a man sitting on the seat reserved for women and expected him to stand up. But it seemed he did not realise he was on the wrong seat so I asked him politely to get up. What followed was an angry look and an excuse I now realise is customary. “I have hurt my leg I cannot stand madam” he said. Taking it as a part of everyday life in Delhi, I prepared myself to stand for the rest of the journey which was supposed to last for an hour or so. But the thing that troubled me more than the physical exertion was the mental torture I experienced in the crowd standing between so called honourable citizens looking for an excuse to come close to girls.
I thought this might the scene in the private buses and decided to travel only by DTC, but the harsh reality remained the same. It was rather disturbing to realise that our national capital has no transport system which could ensure safe and peaceful journey for women. My first impression of travelling in a bus was definitely not a pleasant one but it was a learning experience.