How Shillong made me love walking- A retrospective read

Walking in Shillong

By Amrita Das

It was an uphill task. For years, I stood there and imagined the prospect of climbing the hill to my school. There were many ways I tried to cheat it; sometimes taking alternate route which was more elaborate, sometimes keeping unwanted company and most often, getting a car drop to school. Soon, school was over and I never had to walk up that hill again.

Years later, I was visiting my hometown, Shillong, during my semester break in college and I stood at the same junction, looking at the road which went upward to my school. The only marked difference this time was that my feet craved for the walk up the hill. And as I concluded the infamous walk, I was glowing with contentment.

Walking in Shillong
The morning sun warming the streets. Photo by Amrita Das

I have lived out of home for more than a decade and one of the essential lessons from Shillong is the habit of walking. As a child who has grown up in this scenic city, this form of exercise was forced upon me by my family members as ‘kilometres of morning walk’ or by situations ‘walk to the market’ when there was something to be purchased. At that point, it was least desirable. However, as I grew up I realised that I soaked up some of my favourite conversations and memories while engaged in this activity. It defined companionships, helped me explore the unknown spaces within my home, and introduced a certain stability within me.

As the sunlight made its way through the tall trees of Shillong, I would near the completion of my morning walks. Attempting a different route every day, these walks were now idyllic and therapeutic. Recovering with a hot cup of chai, placidly seated on the stairs of my balcony, I have spent hours writing in my journal. Most of them, inane feelings or elaborate letters to loved ones across the country. You know, writer’s block is an illusory concept which promptly disappears if you’re writing after a walk. Until this recent article in the New Yorker, I never realised the scientific co-relation behind walking and writing. And even now, when I am filled with distractions before writing, I go for a walk.

Walking in Shillong
The view from my balcony where I spent hours writing. Photo by Amrita Das

Then I remember the first time I discovered that alternate way to my best friend’s home. It was across the steep hill in Upper Lachumiere and steeper were the steps which comprised this ‘shortcut’. If anyone believed that shortcuts were easy in life, didn’t climb these flight of stairs! Towards the end of it, I was out of breath, panting and relieved. However, what stays with me was the quaint houses I discovered en route, the shrubs of wild flowers that paved our path, our exhausted-laughs and the 10 minutes that I saved having taken this route. These additional minutes were well-invested in our conversations and my walk through this route only got easier every day.

Wards Lake in Shillong
One of my favourite walking routes is near Wards Lake. Photo by Amrita Das

Shillong taught me the only way to truly discover a place is on foot. From those elusive short routes to the unknown turns in city centre, when we are walking, we are accurately observing the sights and the vibes of the place. This has also helped me build my sense of navigation. Walking can put even sophisticated applications like Google Maps to shame. Trust me, the richest of experiences don’t show up on apps; they are chanced upon while curiously peering through corners of an unknown neighbourhood.

Shillong sky
The typical Shillong sky. Photo by Amrita Das

Whether it has be the countless strolls around the streets of Lower Lachumiere or the questionable trails around Shillong Cantonment area or the impromptu hikes around Upper Shillong, every time, my legs have grown stronger and deepened my relationship with the outdoors. There are moments when I escape into the clean environs of Shillong in my head, wandering through the forest on foot and breathing in the fresh greens. Immediately, I transcend into a calmer space, no matter where I may be.

 

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About the traveller: Amrita Das is a travel blogger and a freelance travel writer. She travels solo and has travelled across 20 states in India and explored countries in Europe. Her travelogues have been featured in National Geographic Traveller India magazine, amongst other publications and websites. She blogs at www.travellingidesofmarch.com, tweets at @Amrita_Dass and shares regular photo stories on her Facebook page – www.facebook.com/travellingidesofmarch.

A Walk to Remember

Sacred Grove

It was a pleasant, overcast day. We’d taken hints from the slightly clueless locals and driven off road down a beautiful valley. We soon found the wind mills we were looking for but there was no visible road in sight to get there. Getting off the car, we leisurely walked through a field and across a steady flowing stream before we reached an entrance of sorts. The wind mill now loomed right over us and a beautiful farm house stretched in front.

We were in Mawphlang, a  village in Meghalaya that lies at a distance of about 26 kilometre from the capital city, Shillong. We had heard enough great things about James Perry’s property  to make our way there ourselves. Built from scratch by the host Mr. James himself, with wind mills and a solar grid to generate power, it is a perfect hideout from the hustle bustle of the city. There are rolling fields and farms surrounding it, while a serene forest and the hills lie only a short trek away. If you’re not distracted by the stunning natural surroundings, you could spend your time snuggled up with a book in the loft of their wooden cabins or indulge in their home cooked delicacies.

Mawphlang
The farm house lies around distractingly beautiful natural surroundings

Tearing ourselves away from the property, we made our way to the Sacred Grove next. Spread across an area of 78.6 hectares , with 400 species of trees and a number of monoliths, the forest holds cultural relevance and serves as a religious symbol to the local Khasi tribe. As we began our walk, our guide, Sanborlang,  informed us of the sarcifices that are offered at regular intervals to seek divine blessings for victory, good harvest season and the betterment of society. A chief is elected from the Lyngdoh community and the four communities -Blah, Kharsiang, Khaunai and Sohliya – serve and protect the grove by electing a minister each.

Walking through the still forest – its stillness interrupted only by our hushed conversations with Sanborlang and the occsaional chirruping of birds from a distance – is a surreal experience. Since you can’t pluck, break or take anything out of the forest, fallen timber trees have taken beautiful moss-laden forms on the ground, and other than the narrow concrete pathway, the rest of the forest floor is beautiful shades of orange-brown-green.

 

Sacred Grove
The beautiful canopy of the Sacred Grove
Scared Forest
These monoliths, serving as places of sacrifice, lie scattered through the forest
Sacred Grove
A visit to the Sacred Grove is a beautiful and surreal experience

It began to rain while we were there and we had to retire back sooner than we’d liked, but somehow, the experience left us tranquil for the rest of the day. Nature tends to have astounding effects on us, and sometimes, it leaves me at a loss for words.

 

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About the Traveller: Born and raised in Assam, Sarita Santoshini has been travelling around India and penning down her experiences over the past year. You can read more of her travelogues in her blog- http://crumbsfromyourtale.wordpress.com .