Sikkim Diary

Into Enchanted Territory
Past lush forests and verdant hills, with the Teesta snaking its way manyhundred feet below, the drive to Sikkim is always a memorable experience. Andentering the state through the welcome gateway at Rangpo is akin to steppinginto another country. A smiling police constable peers into our SUV and politelyenquires about the purpose of our visit before waving us through, but not beforeapologising for the enquiry and welcoming us into his state. After that, thedrive uphill acquires a greater degree of pleasure, and not the least becauseinstead of ugly structures that dot the highways to all hill stations in India,the structures along the road to Gangtok blend perfectly with the hills. Rangpo,halfway between Siliguri and Gangtok, offers a variety of eateries servingeverything ranging from puri-sabzi to momos and thupkas. We, obviously, choseone offering the latter, but were a trifle disappointed to learn that norestaurant there offers pork momos. For that, we’ll have to wait for Gangtok.

Sounds of Tibet
The driver of our SUV, a young man called Kelsang, had started playingBollywood hits as soon as we left Siliguri. We wanted something soothing,something that wouldn’t strike a jarring note in this lap of nature. He smiled(all Sikkimese smile all the time) and complied. The most wonderful, mysticaland delicate music flowed out of the Sony speakers. It was by Nawang Khechog, aflutist who has won global acclaim. Born in Tibet, Nawang, who belonged to afamily of nomads, spent his early years in Tibet where he learned to play thetraditional bamboo flute. When China invaded Tibet in 1949, his family escapedto India, where Nawang studied meditation and Buddhist philosophy for elevenyears. He migrated to Australia in 1986 where he gave his first performance.Nawang is best known for his collaborations with Kitaro, including that onKitaro’s Grammy-nominated Enchanted Evening and Mandala albums. His bestselling album, Rhythms of Peace, creates evocative, textured meditations thattakes one to the serene and vast Himalayas and lulls the listener in anextraordinary tranquility that seems to emanate from the highlands of Tibet. Anardent follower of the Dalai Lama, Nawang’s quest is to use his music tohighlight the cause of Tibet.

More than just a Hotel
Hotel Tibet is more than just an upscale lodge in Gangtok. Run by the DalaiLama’s Tibetan government-in-exile, staying there amounts to making apolitical statement. Manned by extremely courteous staff, the hotel’s snugrooms offer a breathtaking view of the Himalayas. Books on Tibet, includingthose authored by the Dalai Lama, are sold there. A corner of the hotel’swell-appointed lobby doubles as a curio shop for Tibetan and Buddhistknick-knacks; and unlike similar shops around town, prices here are reasonable,with a handsome discount thrown in for good measure. But the hotel’s USP isits restaurant -- the ‘Snow Lion’. Apart from the usual Chinese, continentaland Indian fare, it offers mouth-watering Tibetan dishes. We tried out afew--chicken chetse-detse (minced chicken, mushrooms and vegetables with flatnoodles), pork Gyathuk (noodles with chopped pork cooked with butter from yak’smilk) and chicken sha-bhaklep (minced chicken between two layers of small puris)-- and couldn’t help heaping compliments on Arjun Chettri, the chef who’sbeen with the hotel for 18 years now. The hotel’s deputy general manager,Phurbu Tsering Bhutia, an affable and helpful man, promised to treat us toGyakho, a Tibetan royal dish made of vegetables, tofu, sea weeds, sea cucumberand exotic herbs that takes three days to cook. Mmmm….

Cleanest City
Gangtok, the capital city of Sikkim, is unique. Steeped in Buddhist cultureand traditions, denizens of this hill station are not only cheerful, courteousand considerate, but take obvious pride in keeping their city squeaky clean.Traffic on the streets are disciplined as in no other city or town in India.People never fail to smile and even the traffic cops go out of their way tooffer assistance. One, manning an important intersection, summoned a colleagueover his walkie-talkie to escort me to a cyber café I was searching for.Plastic is banned and so is that disgusting Indian habit of spitting. I boughtsome traditional Tibetan incense sticks from a shop on M.G.Road (yes, evenGangtok has one, like every other Indian urban centre) and asked for a platicpacket to take carry them in. The shop-owner, an old Bhutia lady, delivered apleasant sermon on the ill-effects of plastic before packing the merchandise ina handmade paper bag. Out of the shop, I looked around and noticed not a singlesoul carrying a plastic bag. Wish the rest of our countrymen were as conscious.The Sikkimese are also avid conservationists -- proof of that lies in thegreenery that envelopes the city and in the pleasing constructions that maintainharmony with nature. Gangtok, which means ‘hilltop’, is more than just ahill station -- it is truly an experience that needs to be savoured. One of thebest ways of doing so is to take a long, leisurely walk around the place.

Zero Crime
Well, nearly so. The last murder in Gangtok occurred a couple of years ago,that too after a gap of many years. And both the victim and the perpetrator ofthe crime, which hogged headlines of local newspapers for a few weeks in a row,were plainsmen. We’re told that no cases of rape and molestation ever occur inSikkim. The only violations of the law that do occur are thefts of cattle andpoultry and minor burglaries. And that too in the rural areas. That leaves thestate’s police force with little work to do. No wonder, then, that the copsfrom the constable to the police chief find time to remain fit and trim. Andsmartly attired, too. What a far cry from even neighbouring West Bengal.

Passage to China
Nathu La, scene of fierce clashes between Indian and Chinese soldiers in1967, reopened to trade after 44 long years on July 6. For the past few years,this has been a major tourist attraction, with wide-eyed Indians from the plainsstaring at, smiling, shaking hands and being photographed with Chinese soldiers.A waist-high barbed wire is the only physical barrier between the two countriesare 14,545 feet. The Chinese occupy the high ground here, ground that theysurreptitiously pushed the Indians away from in 1967. That surreptitiousness isin evidence even now -- beneath the mask of friendliness, the Chinese soldierwho comes forward to shake hands with the unsuspecting Indian tourist could evenhave a selfish mission. As a fellow-scribe discovered, thanks to a vigilantIndian soldier. Exchanging currency notes, though illegal, is a common practicebetween the Chinese soldiers and Indian visitors. My friend was offered aChinese note and lulled into parting with a crisp Rs 100 note in exchange, tillour soldier saw the exchange and shouted at my friend, saying that the Chinesenote was fake. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Chinese soldier snatchedback his note, returned the Rs 100 note, and dashed away to his post! Why is itthat Indians, staring from Nehru, always manage to get beguiled by the Chinese?

What’s in a Name?
Sikkim holds different meanings for different people who inhabit thefascinating state. To the Limbus, who settled here from Nepal, Sikkim translatesinto ‘New house’. The Bhutias call the land ‘Denzong’ (valley of rice)while the Lepchas call it ‘Neliang’ or ‘country of cavers’. To someother tribes from Tibet, Sikkim stands for ‘Nyemael’ or paradise, which ittruly is. And behind these different meanings lie Sikkim’s true character --an inclusive, tolerant state whose ethos may be Buddhism, but which welcomes allwith an open heart and warm hug. As long as the visitors stick to the rules bymaintaining harmony with nature. But then, in Sikkim, it is hard not to be onewith nature.