Ten minutes that linger
- Prapti Sharma
The October Sun shone pleasantly bright, as we embarked on our third and final day of adventure at Buxa Tiger Reserve. Following a hearty breakfast, we gathered on the wooden floor of our delightful homestay, ready to drive into our forest session of the day. Soumyadeep Datta Sir took the lead, guiding us through the session with his signature insight and flair that had become familiar from the other sessions. After summarising the previous day’s successful trek, Mr. Datta seamlessly transitioned to highlighting the importance of silence in our daily lives – the silence that forests contemplation, nurtures introspection and revives our connection to what truly matters. We were then guided to embrace this silence and indulge in self-reflection for ten minutes, allowing ourselves to tune in to our inner selves. And, I vividly remember those ten minutes, for they were some of the most grounding moments for me throughout the entire trip.
I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back to all the good things that truly matter. However, perhaps because something new was a fresh experience, that my mind kept wandering back to the cloud covered hills of Lepchakha. There I found myself standing on the hilltop and being mesmerized by the panoramic view of the surrounding hills and numerous river streams meandering through the Dooars region with the Jayanti River being the primary one. As I look towards my right, I could see the Tibetan prayer flags in blue, white, red green, and yellow being hung high across the house tops-quietly but firmly expressing the deep Buddhist roots of Lepchakha. As the wind carried the prayers and blessings from the flag over long distances, it also led me to the magnificent monastery which caught my very first attention upon reaching the place. The significance of it was quite evident in its built and maintenance. I stood in front of the white Buddhist stupa and admired its spectacular sight amidst the beautiful houses of the village. But right at that moment I got carried away by the aroma of the meal that we were offered to by the people there. I turned around and saw us having our most comforting meal after a long and rigorous trek of almost five hours. Even in my imagination, I could relive those rich flavours of ‘Ema-datshi’, leaving me in awe of Bhutanese cuisine.
However, the destination was as beautiful as the journey. My close eyed mind could not help but also wander back to the routes that led us to Lepchakha. The narrow hilly routes with sounds of streams flowing, winds ruffling the leaves of the trees, birds chirping and the visuals of greens and blues with the earthy smell of the hills of Dooars was a site of picturesque beauty. But right at that moment I again got carried away, this time by witnessing the aesthetic houses that we came across from time to time in that route with precisely maintained flowers and kitchen gardens adorning the front yards. I also stopped at the historically significant Buxa Fort, a testament to the region’s rich heritage. I could see the towering tree that stood witness to our gathering, its ancient branches holding stories of the past and the vast field at the entrance, and the enthusiasts engrossed in a lively game of cricket. And much like the game, enthusiastic was our journey!
My mind kept revisiting not only the picturesque beauty of Lepchakha and its hills but also the people that I went there with the conversations that we had, the moments that I’ll cherish and the invaluable learning that I had in the journey. As my heart filled with gratitude recalling my experience at Lepchakha, our ten minutes called me back on the wooden floor of our delightful homestay. As I opened my eyes, reality snapped back into focus, and the paradox of those ten minutes dawned on me – they felt like an immersive cinematic experience yet they vanished in the blink of an eye. Amidst the busy rhythm of schedules and time, those ten minutes shone like a beacon, a precious keepsake from Buxa, a treasure I brought back home, nestled deep within me. And as I hold onto it, silence lingers, reminding me that it’s the stillness that speaks the loudest.
