The Real Song of Ice & Fire

Does a sunrise warrant waking up at the ungodly hour of 3AM? Definitely, if you're going to watch the sun rise over the Gorkhaland Hills with Mt. Kanchenjunga as a backdrop.

It was a cold November dawn in Darjeeling when me and my friends tried hard to get the sleep out of our eyes and head towards Tiger Hill. It was to be the first day of a 10-day long trip and we had our fingers-crossed for a big-bang start to it. The previous evening as we were driving up from Bagdogra, our driver (Kundan) told us that Tiger Hill was notorious for disappointing tourists. If the cloud cover was heavy (as it often was), all that pre-dawn rush would be in vain. In fact, every day for a week before our arrival, tourists had returned dejected. But we decided to chance it.

It might still have been so early in the morning that you could call it late night, but you could sense the nervous anticipation all around. Car after car accelerated through the narrow streets of Darjeeling town, all targeting to get their passengers up to the viewing point in time. It was a clear night, so everyone was hopeful. Looking out through the windows of the car, you could see the night sky spangled with a million stars - while down below, the streetlights of Darjeeling and its satellite towns created constellations of their own.

Kundan halted the car to offer a lift to a local lady, with a large backpack, and a young girl accompanying her. It turned out that the backpack was a large coffee thermos. Ladies like her made some extra money by selling coffee to shivering tourists at Tiger Hill each morning – 10 bucks for a cutting size cup. The adorable kid with her was her niece, who had recently arrived from Nepal with her mother. Kundan knew her and requested if the kid could sit with us and the lady ride on the outside. ‘On the outside?’ we wondered. But surely she could take the empty back-seat of our SUV. But not wanting to intrude on us, she balanced herself precariously on the foot rest on the side of the car, tightly clasping the bars of the luggage carrier for support. It was shocking to watch her be at ease at what must’ve been a bitterly cold ride. 

In exchange for a lift, Kundan asked the lady to get us to the best spot to watch the sunrise. She more than gladly used her insider’s expertise and took us through to the top using a shortcut, cutting across the throng of people with ease. There was a viewing platform by the mountain's edge where we supposed to wait, but it was full by the time we got there. Guess 3 am wasn't early enough. But the coffee lady didn't give up. There was some flat ground if one scaled the railing lining the stairs leading up to the platform. It was a broad enough to safely stand on and much emptier, albeit slightly lower that the 'official' viewing platform. We thanked her and she handed us steaming cups of coffee, which we gladly accepted!

Tiger Hill forms a centre point between where the sun rises to the viewers’ right and the location of Mt. Kanchenjunga, to the left. As we took our places, night still held sway. Nature was asleep. Mt. Kanchenjunga stood stoic as she had for millions of millennia, when she along with her many smaller and larger siblings were wrenched upwards from the depths of the ocean with the head-on collision of India with Asia. She had been watching over these lands ever since and still, geologically speaking, was only a pre-teen compared to the Aravalli ranges, and growing ever so slightly each year with the continued force of that epic collision.

But right then and there, she was in deep slumber. Much like a night light to ward off the fear of the dark in a child’s room, the moon shone protectively. It illuminated Kanchenjunga's snow-capped peak, giving it an ethereal aura. I would have loved to photograph the mountain then, but my camera refused to cooperate, as if chastising me for disturbing the sleeping mountain. So we just waited for nature’s alarm to sound. In time, the sky started changing its hues.

Our reverie was broken a few minutes later by collective gasps, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the sky. Suddenly our sleeping, pre-teen was ablaze as she glowed in the sunshine. In that moment, she was majestic! There was a camera-clicking frenzy among the crowd. As the sun rose, the whole valley came into perspective. At first, a cotton-candy like blanket extended over most of it, with barely a hilltop peeking through. Slowly, the shroud dissolved  to reveal the densely wooded hills . Seeing what we saw, it was scarcely surprising that the Kanchenjunga was so much a part of local beliefs.

This was my second visit to Darjeeling. We couldn't visit Tiger Hill that first time because of the rain. So you can imagine my joy that a 10 year long had been fulfilled.

Note: All credits to George RR Martin for the 'Song of Ice & Fire' bit

This post is the first in a series of posts about a trip to the North-East of India covering Darjeeling and Sikkim.

Further Reading:

• Part 2: A Borderline Encounter
• Part 3: The Stony-faced Sentinels