It has been three years since my transformative journey to the Himalayas in Arunachal Pradesh, and the profound impact it had on me still lingers. Reflecting on the adventure, I recall a Facebook post from Guwahati upon descending from the mountains that succinctly captured the essence: "It is better to die in the mountains than to live in a city." This sentiment resonates even today, echoing the profound effect those majestic peaks and serene valleys, along with the incredible people, had on my perspective.
Though I've harboured the desire to pen down the entire experience, a reluctance to dilute the special emotion has held me back. Despite capturing thousands of pictures, only a select few have been shared. I find gratitude in the gift of sight, for it granted me a glimpse of heaven on earth.
The initial sight of snow-capped peaks towering at 20,000 feet left me in awe, an experience unparalleled in my real-life encounters. It resembled a surrealistic painting on canvas, a visual masterpiece. Journeying through the dense rainforests of Arunachal Pradesh, where nature held sway over every aspect except the steering wheel in my driver’s hands, was redemptive. The mountain weather was a dramatic spectacle, changing with the swiftness of a finger snap – clouds drifting in and out, showers appearing and silencing, rays peeking through lush foliage, lands shifting, and roads crumbling. It unfolded like a true romantic love story.
Fortunately, the Border Roads Organisation (BRO) adeptly handled the challenges. The lack of rampant development in Arunachal Pradesh revealed itself as a blessing, preserving the state's pristine and unspoiled beauty.
The people of Tawang, mainly from the Mompa tribe and followers of Buddhism, exhibited genuine goodness. As a Christian, I felt honoured to experience their hospitality and acceptance. Fond memories of Mondre and Churpi soup at Kunchock’s place, both steamed and fried momos at Pema didi’s, and fish fry and daal at a local’s house linger. The hardworking locals, integral to the Indian Army and the Border Roads Organisation, left a lasting impression. Tawang showcased a harmonious blend of modernity and tradition – from fashionable lifestyles, elegant clothes, and stylish motorcycles to traditional wooden houses, yak hair headwear, and maroon-clad monks at Galden Namgey Lhatse, one of India's oldest monasteries.
Individuals like Kunchock, Pema didi, Sultim, little Daichen, and many others exemplified the goodness of human life, dispelling class differences and biases. The journey, made pleasant by their warmth, was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Despite now navigating a responsibility-driven, commercially motivated, and people-pleasing life in the city, my soul yearns for the open road at every opportunity.
Whether I open or close my eyes, the memories remain undeniably beautiful.
