Lost in the Himalayan foothills

Just when we were planning to trudge our way uphill from Samsing to Suntaleykhola, the rain started. We were in the middle of a firmly entrenched monsoon, so frequent shower was what we expected. However the ominous dark clouds also hinted that the rain wouldn’t stop for a while. So we had to abandon the plan of walking the last 5 km track that connects Samsing with Suntaley, and wait for the rain to stop. Luckily a local jeep came to our rescue, and within 15 minutes we reached the Suntaleykhola eco resort maintained by WBFDC. Samsing snugly located on the foothills of Eastern Himalayas, is a perfect place for the nature lovers, who wants to ramble around the nooks and corners of the hilly slopes. All the attractions are within 5 to 7 kms, and the moderate gradient of the hill road also ensures, that you don’t have to gasp for your breath, frequently.
When we reached the eco resort, it looked rain soaked and silent. Nestled in the outskirts of Neora valley national park and lovingly girdled by the gurgling brook named ‘suntaleykhola’, the place looked entirely detached from the civilized world. The resort on the other side of the stream is connected by a hanging bridge that shakes every time you take a step. We toddled over the slippery mossy surface of the bridge, and entered the complex, a cluster of 10 sweet little white cottages, that looked even brighter against the sylvan settings. The rain stopped late in the afternoon, giving us very little time to explore the place. So instead of venturing into the wild, we decided to sit beside the khola, and listened to its lyrics. The sound of the limpid stream lapping gently against the pebbles, with the occasional trill of an unknown insect, created a nice symphony.
The next morning on the wee hours we started for Rocky Island. On the banks of river Murti, this elfin village offers some breathtaking views of the river and the surrounding countryside. We trudged our way uphill through the forest, up to Faribasty, the last village en route Suntaley, had our morning tea, and continued. From the top of Faribasty, we had a nice view of the entire Duars. As long as we could see, there were green paddy fields, sprawling all over the plains, interspersed only by few tiny little huts. On the distant we could just discern the thick forests of Garumara, as well. After an hour or so we reached Samsing forest rest house. Here we left the main road and entered into a roughly hewed path, which would lead us to Rocky Island. The road from Samsing forest rest house to Rocky Island is completely downhill, gradually coming down to Murti river valley. We strolled down cautiously avoiding the muddy patches and swampy potholes. En route we crossed Samsing khasmahal busty. The sleepy serene village was full of orange orchards. We saw the tiny little green oranges hanging from the branches. Come one month later, and you could see the whole village, suffused in a tinge of orange.

Just after crossing khasmahal village, we had our first view of Murti River. The emerald green stream was flowing rapidly through a green valley. The colorful terraced fields on both side of the river made the whole picture even more delightful. The river was still almost 500 feet below us, so we continued our downhill journey, deep inside the valley. The vegetation around us had also changed by then. Now it’s the thick bamboo groves that had crowded the hilly slopes. The tyre marks on the road had also vanished, suggesting apart from a few rambling traveler, nobody comes here. We had certainly moved into the wild.

Another 10 minutes downhill walk took us to Rocky Island. The place gets its name from a seasonal tent resort, which is put up every year during the tourist season. However since the tourist season was still more than one month away, there was nothing on the vicinity, providing us the opportunity to enjoy the place in its entirety. On the very first look the place looked just ethereal. The emerald green river was gushing down a green valley, surrounded by high hills full of greenery on all sides. It looked like a green world. Only the rocks of myriad hues on the riverbed prevented the whole picture from being a monochrome. The most striking feature obviously was the deafening silence of the place. There was no habitation around, whatsoever, and only the mountains seemed to be in an endless monologue. There is a pedestrian bridge, spanning the river. The other side of the river looked totally unexplored. There are a few sleepy villages like ‘Bhalukhop’, ‘Tinkatari’, on a few kms distance, crossing the river. We thought of discovering those hidden hamlets, but at the end decided against it. The trail was covered with thick foliage, and venturing without a guide wouldn’t have been a prudent idea.

We sat beside the river for almost an hour, soaking the silence of the place. Few kids came from nearby villages, and started bathing in the river. The place was so pristine I felt that only those naked kids could match its purity. City slickers like us dressed in fashionable jeans, T-shirts and trekking shoes are definitely a mismatch here. My friend had spent his childhood in village, so for him watching those kids bathing in the river was total nostalgia. For me the total trip was nostalgia. I had been to Samsing 5 yrs back, and thankfully I could find nothing much has changed since then. Starting from the sleepy serene atmosphere, hospitality of the local people and the natural beauty, everything has remained so pure. Lack of commercialization has kept Samsing’s pristine beauty alive. The only change that was needed though was the resumption of the Samsing tea garden. Once a sprawling tea garden is now mostly covered by clumps of wild creepers. Shut down in the 90’s the resumption of the garden could have made the people of Samsing a world of good.