DIY: Tetrapak Purse

Ever since I have been carrying my ‘self made tetrapak’ purse, many people have been asking me (to my surprise) where did I purchase it from. And to …

DIY: Tetrapak Purse

The ‘Murkha’ Sojourn

It all started when 22 of us weary souls suddenly planned to tour some of the beautiful locations at the Indo-Nepal border. Weary of trying to live up to our daily roles and responsibilities, we decided to unload our mental baggage and upload some good amount of physical baggage. Now, what happens when a group of confused individuals who are swiftly heading towards a too early mid-life crisis suddenly pack their bags and march toward the mountains without doing any research? From my first-hand experience, it turns into a ‘Murkha’ (foolish) sojourn.

The Plan

We were to tour some of the picturesque locations starting from Maneybhanjyang, West Bengal and ending at Darap, West Sikkim.

The Troop

We had zero trekking experience, except three of us. But they too were first timers to this route. The only thing we had was courage and mind you, extreme courage comes out of utter foolishness. Among the 22, we had four categories of backpackers in our group-

One: The (3) regular trekkers- the wisest ones who carried no less, no more. Their motto- “Trek light. Trek wise.”

Two: The wannabe trekkers (includes me) whose bags were stuffed with extra warm clothes. Our motto- “Jaaro le mornu bhanda bhari bokerai morum.” (Better die of the load rather than dying of cold)

Three: The ‘gitangeys’ (singers) whose guitars looked like an unnecessary baggage, but were a necessity. Their motto- “Kakrera mornu bhanda ghokro futayerai morum”. (Better die bursting the lungs rather than freezing to death)

Four: The tankers who carried nothing except excessively heavy luggage stocked with all kinds of liquor. Their motto- “Kill the chill before the chill kills you.”

The troop all scattered in the mountains

Day 1:

On the wee hours of 15 November, we came out on the roads of Darap braving the pre-winter chill only to find out that the drivers of the vehicles supposed to pick us needed to be picked up by us, as they were dreaming cozily tucked under heap of their fluffy quilts and blankets. After two hours of verbal wrestle with the drivers following which our brains heated up like the engine of an old car, we set off towards Maneybhanjyang— the gateway to the ‘Land of the Land Rovers’.

Maneybhanjyang is a brief yet busy town at the Indo-Nepal border in West Bengal. Though the sun was due to shine on the bazaar and the morning mist still danced around, the aroma of the freshly steamed momos oozing from the murky restaurants beside the road, warmed our hearts and watered our mouths. Before we could relish on them, the Land Rovers arrived with the necessary passes made and we hopped into the four-wheeled rusty beauty.

One with the Land Rover, the rusty beauty

Land Rover, I must tell you, is a gift to mankind. This one-of-a-kind ingenious invention introduced by the British tea planters in Darjeeling decades ago, is an absolute sexy beast. She first roars like a lion then coughs a good amount of greyish smoke and takes off hoarsely humming all through the rough and rugged terrain, taking people closer to the mountains. Our first overnight stay of the tour would be at Sandakphu.

Towards Sandakphu

Sandakphu or Sandakpu or Sandakpur falls under the Illam district of Nepal and lies at 11,930 ft. Flanked by the mighty Himalayas from all corners, this windy hill top is a tourist hub which is flooded almost all the year round to witness one of the most beautiful sunrise and sunset moments. You are highly mistaken if you are thinking it’s seclusion here. Away from the maddening crowd, you will find another world of maddening crowd. With the increase in tourist flow, this place through the years has seen an increase in hotels. As for us, we stayed at a hotel whose name was a combination of a local surname and a fancy French word— the ‘Sherpa Chalet’.

Day 2:

With our alarms set for 5 o’ clock to see the sunrise, we woke up on time. Like a mother who goes under hard labour and pushes out a new life, the impregnated sky turned into different shades of blue and yellow, pushing the orangy-red ball of flame, slowly birthing a new day. It took a complete 1 hour 15 minutes for the process. All of us who were complaining of the cold fell silent marvelling upon Mother Nature’s magic. But the silence soon proved to be like a calm before the storm, because as soon as the sun rose up, our voices too rose and all hell broke loose as our first battle for breakfast took place.

Sunrise as seen during the windy morning at Sandakphu

The Battle of Breakfast

We had three kinds of breakfast eaters in our troop-

One: The westerners who preferred toast, half boiled eggs, a bowl of soup and a cup of black tea.

Two: The Indo-Westerners who preferred chappati, aloo-chola, half boiled eggs and a cup of black tea.

Three: The ‘bhateys’ (rice eaters) who didn’t prefer bhuteko bhaat (fried rice) but preferred ‘fai-rice’ (mis-pronunciation for fried rice) and a mug full of piping hot salted milk tea. Bigger the mug, better the tea. Higher the hill of fai-rice on the plate, healthier the breakfast.

The already irritated cook would sternly shout— “one menu for all” [‘khaye kha, na khaye ghich’ types (either eat or overeat)] which would create a huge commotion among us making us look like hung-over drunkards crazily quarrelling early in the morning. Since, I was the only female in the group and either buhari (daughter-in-law) or bhauju (sister-in-law) to all in relation, I was chosen as the ‘breakfast monarch’. And this monarch, swinging between being an Indian and a wannabe westerner, would settle for the Indo-Western breakfast for all.

After breakfast we set off towards Phalut in the same Land Rover(s). Many people choose to travel this distance by foot, but we needed to save our energy for the final day, so we ferried in the vehicles making stops in between for photo sessions, dancing and singing fuelled by little passion and mostly by liquor. But the liquor how hard it may be, doesn’t make you drunk. It’s the nature’s wholesome beauty that makes you high.

When I captured this moment, it felt like those hand painted picturesque landscape wall hanging art (which featured men, women, horses, yaks and mules accompanied by a Lhasa Apso) came alive. Such tapestry wall art hand painted on a black fabric once decorated almost every living room in Sikkim, including ours. Though nowadays such artworks are a rare find in Sikkimese household, the real scenery is very much alive at such high altitude places. It’s just that the western outfit has replaced the traditional ones.

The stretch between Sandakphu and Phalut features one of the most panoramic sights. To traverse through these tough terrains wondrously decorated with rhododendrons, magnolias, shrubs, lightening-struck dead conifers and meadows over eaten by the horses and yaks, is an experience that one cannot explain in words.

Day 3:

Phalut, located at 11,790 ft is a little piece of heaven on earth. This hamlet which falls under West Bengal, is a combination of high and low meadows and hills. Similar to Sandakphu or any other high altitude locations, Phalut too is a playground to the merciless winds. Despite the sun shining upon you with all its might at day time, the rough wind is spine chilling and by night, the wind starts howling freaking your heart out.

•The Yakthung Connection•
A random ‘Dhan Nach’ at Phalut when our group met this jolly group of beautiful Limbu ladies from Nepal. Since, everyone in our group were either Limbu or knew the language (except me), they joined in singing along. Soon it turned into a fun Indo-Nepal competition and our boys won but without any ‘gift’ to take home. The fierce wind was piercingly chilly and I could hardly move, while our men were jumping around in slippers and merrily flirting with the ladies from the neighbouring nation. I would call it the ‘Yakthung’ connection at some 11,800ft.

After another bout of early morning fight over the breakfast menu and ending up eating what the breakfast monarch decided, we gathered to pray and thank Mother Nature. Then bidding adieu to Phalut we started uphill sharp at 8am. Since this was the last leg of our journey and it would be a tiring travel by foot, we were heavily armed with necessary items like corn, chocolates, biscuits, dry fruits, ginger, drinking water, energy drinks and of course liquor!

The first stop would be the Phalut top, some half kilometres above the Phalut trekkers’ hut, the place where we stayed overnight. With a favourable weather, from this point one can see the mighty peaks of Mt. Kumbhakarna, Mt. Kanchendzonga, Mt. Everest and other elegant peaks. A brief photo session and we set off for the tedious journey that lay ahead— hills after hills towards home. The next ‘temporary’ aim would be to reach the Singalila ridge via Torifuley. If you are lucky enough, you will be voluntarily guided by a local dog and luck did favour us.

We got lucky with this big black fluff who voluntarily guided us from Phalut till Kalijhar where he chose to guide another group of masters. Any day the dog would choose a group of wise people who would feed him some carnivorous diet over a group of foolish people who lured him with biscuits.

The walk till Singalila ridge from Phalut is tough. Steep uphills and slippery downhills. After one and half hour of trekking we finally reached the much famous ridge with brief rests in between the trail.

If I had to put this philosophically, it would be- “The physical baggage feels much lighter than the mental baggage. The higher you go, the lighter it feels. That’s the magic of the mountains.” Now if I had to put this into realism, it would be- “The bag feels friggin’ heavy. This physical baggage becomes your mental baggage and you have no option other than carrying it all through the highs and lows of the hills. That’s the reality in the mountains.”

We were half dead by the time we reached this spot. The bags were so heavy that one among us even offered to sell his clothes (to God knows who?!) I think it were the tankers in our group who won at this. The more they drank, their baggage turned lighter.
[A self realisation note: But any day, physical baggage is much more lighter than mental baggage.]

The next stop would be Chewabhanjyang. The route from the ridge till Chewa is tougher. Stony and bumpy pathway which tortures your feet if you are wearing the wrong shoes. Among us only the three regular trekkers had the right pair. Rest had shoes which were suitable only for ramp walking at MG Marg. A brief halt at the Kalijhar Base Camp before reaching Chewa where the dog-guide chose another group of masters who offered him with chicken bones. Any day the dog would choose a group of wise men who would feed him some carnivorous diet over a group of foolish men who lured him with biscuits. With our big and pinky toe nails already begging us for some rest, we reached the Chewa SAP (Sikkim Armed Police) post. The generous staff prepared an organic lunch for us with everything they could acquire at 10,300 ft.

While I was hungry and weary, our boys started volley balling at Chewa SAP Post situated at some 10,300 ft. For a moment I felt like throwing them off the cliff like the way they were throwing the ball. The pre-winter worn dead volleyball court soon turned into a lively and funny war zone when the two teams started quarrelling with each other like school kids instead of passing the ball. The spectators were having fits of laughter looking at them quarrel. And I laughed so hard that my chapped lips started to burn.
Men will be men. Men will always remain kids.

With the Chewa SAP personnel

After relishing on the food, we soon left towards Uttarey via Chitrey and making through the Barsey Rhododendron Sanctuary. Now, if you think the earlier walks were tough and tougher, this slant downhill walk is the toughest. As the afternoon progressed, the pathway covered with thick Rhododendrons turned darker making the walk more difficult for us. Every time we crossed someone going upwards, we would ask—“how long?” And every time the answer would be— “half an hour more.” Little did we know that these people whom we were enquiring were local potters for whom it was a ‘normal’ walk. So, after half an hour and another half an hour and another continuous walk, we finally reached the tarred road at Uttarey.

Though we couldn’t feel our feet, the look of achievement on our faces said that we have won the ultimate walking championship. But the bubble soon bursted when a group of potters enquired about our tour. As we proudly replied that we had trekked whole day from Phalut till Uttarey and now will be heading towards Darap, the potters said how ‘murkha’ we all had been. We realised that we had completed 3-4 days trek in 9 and half hours. While other trekkers would trek slowly, camping overnight at various points, we had backpacked as if we were going to a battlefield and had literally marched as if we had a mission to go an blow out some enemy bases. “Esari kaha trek garcha!? Bistari pata. Tara aatt chai maney tapai haru ko” (You don’t trek this way!? It’s done slowly. But I salute your courage), said one of the potters mockingly.

Silence doomed over us and we started feeling the sharp pangs in our legs. But the foolishness pinched harder than the pain. Hurriedly one among us called for vehicles which would take us home to Darap, a one and half hour drive which we had aimed to cover by foot the same day earlier.

Finally home

Post Tour

After we uploaded our pictures and videos of this trek we have been receiving numerous phone calls and messages enquiring about the whole tour and about how to do it. My husband’s phone rang so continuously that for once we even excitedly planned to give up everything we are doing (professionally) and become full time tour guides. But soon we realised we have some serious EMIs to pay with our professions as securities.

Us

The Troop

Travel Tip

Don’t get carried away by your courage.

Accidental Bonus

Our murkha trek got featured in the TGIF section and online portal of our very own local daily ‘Sikkim Express’ and also at the online portal of ‘Time 8 News’

Thank you for staying 🙂

[NOTE: The article was first published in the TGIF section of Sikkim Express dated 29 Nov, 2019. All pictures appearing on this site are property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without any permission of the owner is not permitted. ]

The Silent Speakers

Hands, I feel are one of the most expressive body parts. They silently speak. I have always loved capturing their silently loud moments. Sharing with you ten of my favourite captures. Every hand pictured here has a story to tell; a story of that particular moment when they were photographed. I was about to put up a description with every picture, but again I decided I to leave it up to you to figure out their expressions.

[NOTE : All pictures appearing on this site are property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without any permission of the owner is not permitted. ]

DIY Paper Carnations

I have never much liked paper flowers and never tried making one until I found these amazing paper carnations. Might be my love for pretty carnations could not stop me from making them. It is pretty easy to make these flowers.

All you need is crepe paper, floral tape, craft wire, scissors, white glue and water colour. Below are the steps.

1. Take a crepe paper (preferably red or pink or white in colour) and cut it into tulip shaped petals (around 16 to 20 petals). Please note that the creases of the crepe paper should be kept vertical and the tip of the petal should be cut zigzag.

2. Stretch the cut petals and cup them. The vertical creases should spread while doing this making it easy for you to cup the petals.

3. Take the craft wire and cover it with a floral tape.

4. Apply very little amount of white glue on one end of the wire and stick your first petal followed by the second, third and other remaining petals. Please note that you should apply little amount of white glue after sticking every petal.

5. Cover the area where the petals have been glued with the floral tape.

6. Take a green crepe paper and cut it into pointed leaves and glue them on the stem where ever necessary.
For the white carnations, apply little amount of red water colour on the zigzag tip with a brush.

Your paper carnations are ready!
Thank you for staying. Enjoy making these pretty carnations!

[NOTE : All pictures appearing on this site are property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without any permission of the owner is not permitted. ]

DIY: Origami Heart Bookmark

It’s been quite sometime that I haven’t posted DIY idea(s). My earlier posts have been about travel and photography. Now its time for a DIY. This pictorial guide will feature steps on how to make an easy origami heart bookmark.
Origami is an art of paper folding associated with the Japanese culture.
Origami heart bookmarks are easy and fun to make and suitable for beginner crafters and children.

Wondering how to make it? Below is the pictorial guide.
Please note: The paper piece should be square. My piece measures 10 cm x 10 cm.

As you finish all the steps, your origami heart bookmark is ready. However, I have glued it to a cardstock paper in order to make it more durable. I made some from magazine pages too.

Thank you for staying. Hope you liked it.
[Note : All pictures appearing on this site are a property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without any permission of the owner is not permitted.]

#Picture_Diaries: A series of photographs

Mountain Calling Yet Again: It’s been quite a gap after my last picture post about the Winter’s Spring. This time its the mountains again. The short trip to the mountains yet again has given me another short story to tell. Hope you enjoy my fifth in the series photo story.

#Highway_To_Heaven

Travelling through this road, you get a feeling that you never got before. It’s a mixed feeling which you can only feel but never can explain. You will only know the feeling once you travel this road.

#Earth_And_Sky

Even

After
All this time
The Sun never says to the Earth,

“You owe me.”

Look
What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the whole sky

~Hafiz

 

#Dots

The little dots down there are yaks.

#The_Frost

Under the clear blue sky the frost coated grass looked like crystals.
But crystals are hard,she thought. The frost was fragile. A warm touch could melt it. A harsh step would crush it.
The more she thought, she realised she was like the frost.

#Soft_Mountains

I have never seen mountains so soft. It’s only when you are too close to them you realise how fragile they are. Mountains, I have started to feel are like people with big hearts, gentle yet strong.

[Note: All pictures appearing on this site are the property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without the consent of the owner  are not allowed]

#Picture_Diaries::: A series of photographs

Autumn has always been my favourite season. I consider it as the winter’s spring. The red and yellow hues create nothing but magic. Yes, MAGIC!
This picture post is nothing but all about fall. All the photographs have been shot in and around Lachen, North Sikkim, India, during my recent visit there.
Enjoy the magic until the next post.

#Red_October

I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. 🍁🍂🍃

#Let_Go

The trees are about to show us how lovely it is to let the dead things go.

#What_Is_Autumn

“What’s autumn?” asked the little one. “When cinnamon dust is spread all around us, that’s autumn.”

#Lets_Eat

Let’s eat the grass before the autumn eats them… 🐑🐏

#October_Hues

Falling in love with fall all over again. 🍂🍃🍁

#Old_House

An old house that had lived its life long ago and so was very quiet and wise and a little mysterious. Also a little austere, but very kind. ~ L.M. Montgomery 🏡

#Red_October

If you haven’t had enough of October, just in case. 😆😆😆
[P.S. I so wish the electric lines weren’t in the frame]

#Waterfall

There is a hidden message in every waterfall. It says, if you are flexible, falling will not hurt you! ~Mehmet Murat ildan

#Winding_Road

Who climbs the mountain doesn’t always climb. The winding road slants downward many a time; yet each descent is higher than the last.
~Ella  Wheeler Wilcox

[Note: All pictures appearing on this site are the property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these without the consent of the owner  are not allowed]

#Picture_Diaries: A series of photographs

Mountain Calling: It’s one of my regular short trips ‘more closer’ to the mountains. As I lay cosily cramped in a hotel bed with my crazy cousins in this ‘not-too-chilly not-too-warm’ Lachen October weather, I realise I can never get enough of these mountains. I have been within them and they have been within me. As my cousins make merry, crack silly jokes and laugh away to glory, I go through my photo archive. Here I’m posting few pictures from my earlier ‘more closer’ to the mountains trips which I found in the archive.

#Towards_Zero

Zero, where everything starts and ends.
Clicked at road towards Zero, North Sikkim.

#Soul

The soul sees more than the eyes.
Clicked near Baba Mandir, East Sikkim.

#Reflection

You reflect what you are.
Clicked at Tsomgo Lake, East Sikkim.

#Mountain_girl

I love the ocean. But I love the mountains more. Not because I live within the mountains, but because the mountains live within me.
Clicked at Lachung, North Sikkim

[Note: All pictures appearing on this site are the property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these pictures in any form without the permission of the owner is not permitted. ]

#Picture_Diaries: A series of photographs

It’s all monochrome in #Picture_Dairies: Part II. I feel there is so much in black and white. It speaks everything which colours can’t express.
#Picture_Dairies features photographs clicked mostly during my travels, some during my work and some are from the archives. Anything that captured my attention has been captured.

#Black_and_White

“The most colorful thing in the world is black and white, it contains all colors and at the same time excludes all.”~10 Alone

#Locked_Doors

“You have to come to your closed doors before you get to your open doors…” ~Joel Osteen

#Fences

“Beyond the fence, there is a world where you need to be”~The Freigeist

#Stairs

“We are all on the stairs, my friend; some of us are going down, some us are going up!” ~Mehmet Murat ildan

[NOTE: All pictures appearing in this site are the property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these pictures in any form without the permission of the owner is not permitted]

#Picture_Diaries: A series of photographs

It’s been quite sometime that I have been irregular with the blog update. Lately I have been crafting like crazy and have been travelling a lot and I have been photographing quite much. #Picture_Dairies: Part I features photographs clicked mostly during my travels, some during my work and some are from the archives. Anything that captured my attention has been captured.

#Closed_Doors

…but you have to know when you close those doors, you don’t leave anything for the other person. – Oceans of Fire

#Lets_Travel

Let’s find some beautiful place to get lost. Let’s travel today.

#Dirty_Window

Dirty windows make life difficult to see. That’s why last night and this morning always look the same to me.

#Clouds

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
Stray Birds, Tagore

[*All pictures appearing in this site are the property of knitters and crocheters. Republishing or distribution of these pictures in any form without the permission of the owner is not permitted]