Ramblings // On Sikkim and Backpacking
- 2 mins
What I loved the most about Sikkim can’t be captured on cameras. It can’t be taped since it would be intrusive and it can’t be replicated because it’s unique and impromptu. It could be described, as I attempt to, but more importantly, it’s something that you simply have to experience to know.
Now I first heard about this from a friend who claimed he’d been offered free rides and Tropicanas by locals after finishing the Ladakh Marathon. And then I found Ronnie’s song, whose chorus goes : “Dil hai pahadi, thoda anadi. Par duniya ke maya mein phasta nahi” (My heart belongs to the mountains. Although a little childish, it doesn’t get hindered by materialism). While the song refers his life in Manali, I think this holds true for most Himalayan states.
Maybe it’s the pleasant weather, the proximity to nature, the sense of safety from Indian Army being round the corner, independence from material pleasures that aren’t available in remote areas or the absence of the pollution, commercialisation, & cutthroat-ness of cities, I don’t know, there’s just something that makes people in the mountains a lot kinder, more generous, more open and just more alive.
Sikkimese people, are honestly some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. The blend of Lepchas, Bhutias and the humility and the truthfulness Buddhism ingrains in its disciples is one that’ll make you fall in love with Sikkim (assuming the views, the snow, the fab weather and food, leave you pining for more).
As a product of Indian parenting, I’ve always been taught to be wary of the unknown and to stick to the safer, more-travelled path but to be honest, I enjoy bonding with strangers. To me, each person is a storybook waiting to be flipped open with the right questions and the further I get from home, the wilder the stories get. Besides there’s something oddly magical about two arbitrary curvilinear lines briefly running parallel until they diverge to move on to their respective paths. And I think our society has been so busy drawing lines and spreading hate that we forget that in the end, we’re all just lines on the universe’s infinite canvas. So the next time you travel, and you’re in a taxi, a hostel, a bar, a supermarket, or on a long walk to a monastery (that you’re secretly wishing is open despite a lockdown), strike up a conversation with a stranger. Small-talk can go a long way.