The Hill I Never Left

I had never been on a trip with just my friends to a place where I had no relatives. My parents have always been a bit hesitant to let me go anywhere outside the city unsupervised. They're a bit paranoid that way. My only other trip with friends, not including the ones from school, has been to Bangalore, the city where I have an entire squad of family members waiting to occupy some space on my schedule. While I don't mind spending time with them, I would still rather enjoy the new place with my friends since the daunting thought of all of us parting ways any time makes us want to grab every opportunity possible. 

So, coming back to the point, it was only after my third year finals ended that my parents finally allowed me to go for a trip to Darjeeling with two other friends of mine. This was of course a result of tireless requesting and explaining how we would take care of everything and be as safe as possible. We promised to send timely updates (although that never really happened).

Three days after we closed a significant chapter in our lives, the three of us embarked on a 45-minute flight and 3-hour car journey to the Queen of Hills. And oh, what a trip that was!

When I think about those four days, I cannot help but feel the breeze and blanket of fog engulf me all over again. I can still smell the freshness in the air as we drove up the winding paths to that quaint little town. It’s still lingering somewhere within me and creeps up on me from time to time.

We stopped midway at Kurseong and enjoyed the most divine momos I have ever had the pleasure of eating. With every two kilometres or so, a new item of clothing would be added to our beings. In the company of a chatty driver, a friendly acquaintance that came to pick us up and a never-ending playlist of every soothing road trip song ever, we reached Darjeeling.

While I could go on and on about every little moment that made the trip, it was one moment in particular that still plays on a loop in my mind every now and then.

We were deep in debate about when we should cover Tiger Hill- a must-visit according to every single person we spoke to. My friends wanted to wait a day or two before going there but I wanted it done with since it involved waking up at 3:00 am. I managed to convince them and we booked our cab for the drive. 

In the wee hours of the next morning, I woke up right on time, somehow got dressed in the freezing cold and forced my friends to get ready. Our driver would be coming at 4:00 am to pick us up. What we did not take into account was the fact that our hotel was located in a place where cars weren't allowed. Hence, we had to walk up a pitch-dark alley, cross a deserted town square and make our way towards the area where our driver was waiting for us. The thought initially freaked me out. Walking in a quiet barely-lit place without a soul in sight was something I had never done and was not looking forward to doing. As we were quietly walking up towards Mall Road, huffing due to the steep ascend on our way, my hands were shivering partly with fear and partly due to my Calcuttan blood that is so unaccustomed to temperatures below 12 degrees. 

I distinctly remember thinking that I had never seen a town look so quiet in my life. I have been on the road in other cities at that time as well but no place looked as dead to the world as Darjeeling looked that night to me. I felt like something bad could happen and no one would know. 

What alleviated my fear, however, was that when we stepped into the town square, amidst the darkness, only partly expelled by a flickering street light, we saw a man teaching his very young daughter how to ride a cycle. That was enough to warm my heart that morning. 

With a little less apprehension we went to our car and drove to Tiger Hill. As anticipated, the road got busier as we inched closer. Evidently, everyone had decided to come that morning in order to witness the sun rise and shine upon Mt. Kanchenjunga. The drive, which was supposedly just an hour long, stretched much longer and we were scared that we would miss watching the sun rise. The traffic got worse as time passed. So, we decided to ditch the car at one point and walk the rest of the way. And, we did just that. I put on two jackets, a scarf, shoved my phone into my pocket, held my friends’ hand and we ran up the steep hill. The sky was turning lighter by the second. The valleys were beginning to look alive. I could feel the warmth of the sun creeping up on us as we ran, gasping for breath and tired out of our minds. 

Every bone in my body was aching during that run but not a single bone asked me to stop. I had to get to the point. People had told me that rarely would tourists get to see the mighty Kanchenjunga clearly since the mountain was always encased by fog. I knew we were taking a chance. Forget the sunrise, we might not be able to see the peak at all. However, something within me told me that we would get lucky. So, as we made it to the viewing point at Tiger Hill, hand in hand, catching our breaths and trying to find the best spot to stand, we couldn't help but wonder if today was our day. 

And indeed, our day it was. After a couple of minutes of standing with our eyes glued to the sky, we saw it clear as day. The second highest peak in Asia stood there right before us, majestic, isolated and so hauntingly beautiful. I felt a chill run through my body. I had never seen something like this. 

None of us spoke a word to each other as we took in the beauty of the scene that seemed to be painted before us. A few futile attempts at clicking a picture were made but even now when I look at those pictures, I cannot seem to use it as a substitute to the sight I saw with my own eyes. Some things just never leave you. 

Soon, the sun rose. Bright orange but warm. We shifted our gaze from left to right and watched the ball of light ascend. People around us began clapping. We were the chosen ones that morning. The rising sun lit up the valley and the smell of a cool wintry early morning engulfed my senses. Oh, what a sweet sensation that was! I finally understood the hype behind mountains. They are glorious and can make you feel so small. That entire sight made me feel like a tiny little speck in this enormous world that we inhabit. My anxieties about college ending and the impending decisions I had to make about my future seemed entirely meaningless. I let out a deep sigh as if letting go of every worry that was sitting heavy on my heart. I felt like nothing. But even then, I felt like in that very moment, I had everything.

Huddled together in a warm embrace with my best friends, with the rising sun on my right, a snow covered mountain to my left and a heart full of hope inside, I felt like I had found something important that morning. And, as we made our way back, tired, sleepy but so so satisfied, the clear view of the mountain peak looming over the hillside followed us all the way down, perhaps reminding us that a small moment can create a big ripple.