PICNIC, OUTING AND TRAVEL IN NORTH BENGAL

 INTRODUCTION

The plains comprising four districts of North Bengal — namely Jalpaiguri, the plains of Darjeeling, Alipurduar, and Cooch Behar — are bounded on the north by the mountainous regions of Sikkim, Darjeeling, and Bhutan; on the south by the neighbouring country of Bangladesh; on the east by the state of Assam; and on the west by another neighbouring country, Nepal. Across this region flow several perennial rivers — such as the Mahananda, Teesta, Jaldhaka, Torsa, Kaljani, Raidak, and Sankosh — descending gradually from the northwest to the southeast. Along the banks of these rivers, nature itself has nurtured several wildlife sanctuaries, among which the notable ones are Gorumara National Park, Chilapata and Jaldapara Wildlife Sanctuaries, and the Buxa Tiger Reserve. In addition to these, countless tea gardens spread across the districts of Darjeeling, Jalpaiguri, and Alipurduar lend the region its evergreen charm. Around September and October, when the grassy fields bloom with white kash flowers, the northern hills appear vivid and lively under the clear blue autumnal sky. As a bonus, when flocks of unnamed migratory birds join this picturesque scene, how can people remain indoors? Therefore, when people, setting aside their daily work and busy routines, wish to spend at least a day in the lap of nature — cooking, eating, chatting, laughing, joking, and enjoying themselves in the open — such an occasion is called “banbhojon” in Bengali, or “picnic” in English.

AN OUTLINE OF PICNIC WITH BENGALI CINEMA

Bengalis are a people fond of imitation. Whatever they see, they wish to follow. In 1976, the Bengali film Pratham Kadam Phool, starring Soumitra Chatterjee and Tanuja, was released. In this film, singer Manna Dey performed the song “Ami Shri Shri Bhojohori Manna.” It can be said that this song laid down the ideal rules of picnic culture for Bengalis. It inspired people to go on picnics. Later, in 1971, the Bengali film Joi Jayanti, starring the matinee idol Uttam Kumar and Aparna Sen, was released. During this period, the song “Amader Chhuti Chhuti, Chol Neb Luti Oi Ananda Jharna” gave recognition to small, family-based picnics. However, while many consider the first song as representing the ideal picnic, others are unwilling to regard the second one as a true picnic song. The reason is that Aparna Sen was seen leaving home with the children carrying food — something that may be called an outing, but not exactly a picnic. The arrangements and preparations for cooking depend on individual capability and expertise, which may not be possible for everyone. Yet, one must understand that the real charm lies in spending time under the open sky, in the lap of nature.

MY CHILDHOOD AND PICNIC (1984 - 1990)

In my childhood, my idea about the picnic was simply cooking and eating together outside the room on a special day. By “outside,” I meant the open terrace of the house, the courtyard. In our family, picnics usually happen on special days of the year, such as December 25th or the night of December 31st. Some years, we even had picnics on the night of Mahalaya. The picnic equipment was very limited—just one pot, one pan, and our own plates and glasses. The contributions were whatever could be found at home: a bowl of rice, one egg, onions, or potatoes—that was the picnic fund. Since I was small, my duty was only to watch over things and guard them, while the elders did all the work. Being typical Bengalis, our picnic meals had to include rice, fried items, and curry. On December 31st, cooking would begin around nine at night, while Doordarshan National’s New Year celebrations played on TV. Finally, at midnight, after eating, we welcomed the New Year by bursting a few leftover fireworks from Kali Puja, thus ending the picnic. On those days, nearly four or five households in the neighbourhood would hold picnics in succession. And even after everyone’s picnics were done, the neighbourhood corner would still be buzzing with celebrations all night. From time to time, Hindi songs like “Ramba Ho”, “Zooby Zooby”, or “Jimmy Jimmy Aaja Aaja” would float through the air. Occasionally fireworks would go off, followed by bursts of joyful cheering. Before I knew it, I had moved up to Class Two. Our school, Sarada Shishu Tirtha, announced a picnic. As far as I can remember, the contribution was about five rupees. Early in the morning, dressed in my school uniform and carrying a water bottle, I reached school. They took us in a big bus to a paddy field near the Jhinaidanga Check post—that, they said, was the picnic spot. After sitting in circles according to our classes and sections, each of us was given an orange. Then, after playing various games, we sat in line and ate with our classmates—rice and egg curry, along with chutney, yogurt, and sweets. What joy! This was my first time going for a picnic by bus with my school. I also remember the following year when our school picnic was held at Madhupur Dham, in front of the Shankardev Temple. We went there in two big buses. In those days, the temple’s small zoo even had a deer. Anyway, the picnic menu was the same—rice with egg curry, chutney, yogurt, and sweets. As I grew older, the picnic menu also grew richer. Eggs gave way to fish, and then fish gave way to chicken. The older boys, who had returned from studying or working outside, introduced new techniques of cooking meat. I would sit and watch everything. They would soak chopped chilies in sugar water, fry the spices separately, and boil the chicken in another pot—technology! I would keep watch. Finally, we would eat rice with half-cooked spicy chicken, bringing the picnic to an end. At night, lying in bed, the analysis would begin: “Today’s dish didn’t turn out well because such-and-such spice was missing.” From the elders, I used to hear stories of picnic spots across North Bengal—Jhalong, Bindu, Chamurchi, Dalsingpara, Chilapata, Raimatang, Kalikhola, and so many more. Their picnic photos showed beautiful hills, rivers, and forests. And my picnic achievements? A paddy field, the rooftop, or the courtyard at home.

Makrapara 1998

PICNIC AND MY AGE OF EXPLORATION (YEAR 1991 – 2000):

Although Bengali is our mother tongue and Hindi isn't our colloquial language. But everyone, young and old could understand some words of Hindi by watching Durdarshan Chanel on Black and White TV. During 1991, one of the songs from the Amitabh Bachchan-starrer film Hum used to blare loudly during street corner picnics. During picnics at home, we had to be careful while selecting songs, because if we played “Jumma Chumma De De” at home, not a single beat would miss its target! In that time, unlike today, there was no YouTube that taught us new recipes hands-on. In Cooch Behar town, there were only two restaurants — Mitali and Trishna — and their signature dishes were Aloo Paratha and Mughlai Paratha. We had to learn everything from newspapers and magazines. There was no chance for a retake. We learned to cook Jeera Rice, Basanti Pulao, Hyderabadi Biryani, Fried Rice, Malai Chingri, Ilish Bhapa, and Chicken Chaap all by ourselves, cooked them, and ate them. If the food turned out well, we earned praise; if not, we got our fair share of taunts and teasing. In those days, there were a few hit songs perfect for picnics, and one of them was “Tu Cheez Badi Hai Mast Mast” from the 1994 film Mohra. During this time, the standard of food at our family picnics has improved greatly — the menu includes salads, snacks, and full-course meals. Some might even call these gatherings as “feasts” rather than picnics. Whatever you call it, the fun remains the same! 

PICNIC IN MY HEROIC AGE (2001–2011)

Between 2001 and 2010, a major transformation took place in my life. In 2001, while studying in class twelve, I went for a picnic to Gosanimari Rajpat with my private tuition group. This historic site lies about 25 kilometres south of Cooch Behar town. It holds the ruins of the capital of King Kanteshwar of the Khen dynasty and the temple of Goddess Kamteshwari. Although the place is not rich in natural beauty, it is quite suitable for school students. In the next three years during college, I again visited Rasikbil and Kunjanagar—both places I had already been to before, so I did not feel much excitement. In 2004, while studying in the first year at North Bengal University, we went for a picnic to Jhalong. As far as I remember, it was inside some forest area with tea gardens and a small river flowing by, and hills in the background. I think I was the only person there from our group—no other picnic party was present. The picnic memories used to be captured through film-roll cameras. One roll could take about 34–35 photos. Some students used normal free focus cameras like Kodak KB10, Primer, or Yashica MF2. Later, they would develop the negatives and get the photos printed at Dolphin Studio in the Shivmandir area. The next year, 2005, when we were in the second year, it was decided that we would go to Murti. This time, as second-year students, we had the responsibility of planning and organizing everything for the picnic. I was assigned the duty of finding a cook (Bamun). I thought Bamun meant a priest, so I directly went to the temple priest in the Shivmandir area of the university. The priest not only corrected my misunderstanding but also helped me find a good cook. We bought all necessary items from Kadam Tala market according to the list. On the previous night, we boiled eggs and kept curd and sweets ready. We even smelled the bread occasionally to check if it was getting stale. Everyone was serious about their responsibilities. To prevent theft, some stayed awake all night guarding the goods. The white bus we hired for the picnic was named “Shri Krishner Chandan Yatra.” However, much later during the journey, we discovered that the gas cylinder had been left behind in the VK hostel—and that became another unforgettable story! During that time, picnics were synonymous with Himesh Reshammiya’s songs, especially “Jhalak Dikhla Ja, Ek Baar Aaja Aaja” and “Dil Nashi Dil Nashi.” In 2005, the song “Kajra Re, Kajra Re, Tere Kaale Kaale Naina” from the movie Bunty Aur Babli was a huge hit. In 2006, after joining Rajarhat High School in Cooch Behar as an assistant teacher, I went on a picnic to Jayanti–Hauda with the entire school staff in December. As far as I remember, cooking on the Jayanti riverbed was still allowed then, though playing loud music was banned. During that trip, some of us walked all the way to Chhoto Mahakal. Another hit Bengali song ‘Dayal Baba Kala Khaba, Gach Lagaya Khao’ was quite popular among the picnic parties during this year. The next year, 2007, the Rajarhat School organized a picnic to Totopara. The Toto tribe is North Bengal’s only endangered indigenous community, with a very small population. They were traditionally porters, who carried oranges from the Bhutan hills into India. We had already heard that the place suffered from a severe water shortage. Our bus kept moving further uphill across dry riverbeds of sand and pebbles, in search of water—but to no avail. The intense sunlight made the distant trees appear as if shimmering in a mirage. Those who had climbed onto the bus roof to enjoy the view were unrecognizable afterward, covered in dust and sand. Although we had carried a few drums of water, there was hardly enough left to wash the utensils after eating. I still remember that a coal mine near the Bhutan border was visible from there. In 2008, songs like “Mauja Hi Mauja” from Jab We Met and “Desi Girl” from Dostana were the perfect choices for picnics. In 2009, the Bengali song “O Tunir Ma, Tomar Tuni Kotha Shone Na” gained equal popularity and rivaled contemporary Hindi hits. That same year, after joining Kholta High School in Cooch Behar, my first picnic there was to Fashkhawa. The following year, in December 2010, we went to Raymatang—and thus ended another memorable chapter of my picnic-filled heroic age.

PICNIC IN YEAR 2011 - 2020:

Every academic calendar, as soon as the annual exams ended — usually in the first or second week of December — plans for the picnic would begin. In 2012, we went again to Murti, along with a jungle safari at Gorumara National Park. In January 2013, while on deputation for my B.Ed. course, we all went on a picnic to Chamurchi. That particular picnic added a special dimension to my life. After working for about ten years in a school, I got the chance to be a student again — and joined that picnic with my college and university seniors, friends, and batchmates. Almost everyone had a good-quality digital camera, so the photo sessions were endless. Two buses were arranged from the Tanganmari B.Ed. college. After earning my degree, I returned once more to school life. In December 2013, all the school staff went on a picnic to Sevoke. That time, a large bus was driven right down onto the Teesta riverbed. Mutton, fried fish, salad — there was no shortage of delicious dishes. In the afternoon, a local home guard came and warned us that water would soon be released from the Kalijhora barrage near about 4 pm — we should leave quickly. By evening, all our belongings were loaded onto the bus. As the vehicle started moving along the riverbed, Bimal Da was dancing behind it to the tune of “Main Naagin Naagin, Nagin Dance Nachna.” Behind him, the river waters followed — it looked as if Bhagirath himself was leading Mother Ganga! Thankfully, everyone returned safely that day. Another memorable picnic took place in 2014 — at Sakam. In the following years, depending on the situation, we sometimes hired a bus, sometimes a smaller vehicle. Often, we would fix a picnic spot in advance, but if it didn’t feel good after reaching there, we’d move to another. For instance, we might have planned to go to Kalikhola near Kumargram, but on a change of mind, ended up heading toward Falakata instead. After enjoying breakfast of dalpuri and chhola batora at Falakata’s famous sweet shop Sweety, we even held a vote to decide the final picnic destination! All this was possible because of our ever-smiling driver, Utpal Da, who  never said “no” to anything. In this way, in 2015 we went to Gorubathan, then to Paprakhoti, and finally reached Lava. The sight of those towering mountains completely changed everyone’s idea of what a picnic could be. The next year, in 2016, we all went to Delo, and in 2017, to Bindu.

SHORT CHRONOLOGY OF PICNIC IN NORTH BENGAL: 

Long ago, employees of various government and private offices, as well as educational institutions, used to go out once a year for a picnic with their families. The picnics were well-planned and organized, making them high in quality. Separate chefs were taken along for cooking. Breakfast typically included boiled eggs, bread, jam, butter, tea, bananas, and biscuits — a truly royal affair. The children of the families would perform recitation of poems, dances, songs, and recitations, bringing wide smiles to their parents’ faces. Often, some sports items like tennis balls, badminton sets, or footballs were also taken along. Lunch consisted of rice, dal (lentils), fried brinjal, fish fry, and mutton, followed by chutney, curd, and sweets for dessert. In the earlier days, banana leaves were used as plates, but by the early 1990s, plates made of sal leaves became common. Initially, these sal-leaf plates were stitched together with small sticks, so if one mixed the rice with mutton curry too forcefully, the plates would tear. The women of the house carried betel leaves (Pan), areca nuts(Supari), and lime with them. Before returning home, the bus would stop somewhere for another round of tea. Meanwhile, various community clubs, Associations also organized picnics. In most cases, the arrangements were good, though in some instances, the clubs’ mismanagement was quite noticeable — a “have oil but no salt” kind of situation. And if one or two drunkards joined in, it added fuel to the fire. Gradually, sturdier sal-leaf plates sewn with fine thread appeared in the market. A few years later, around 1995, the use of thermocol and paper plates began. In winter, the oranges produced in the Bhutan hills were primarily transported by Bhutanese porters from Chamurchi–Samsing, Totopara, Jaigaon–Funtsoling, Pana, Raymatang–Adma, and a place called Hauda situated on the bed of the Jayanti River. They packed the oranges into wooden crates and loaded them onto Indian lorries. At that time, the India–Bhutan border was almost like an open field. Occasionally, border posts could be seen, but there were no barbed wires or walls. Therefore, during picnics, even if cooking was done in dry riverbeds, enthusiastic people could cross into Bhutan without restrictions, traverse the narrow hilly paths, and visit local villages at higher elevations. On the way back, they would bring some oranges for a small price from local villagers. Around 2001, India gradually started deploying Sasastra Sima Bal (SSB) forces along its Bhutan border. Furthermore, during this period, in the northeastern part of Alipurduar district of West Bengal—covering areas like Kumargramduar, Sankosh, Raidak, and Bhutanghat—the activities of the KLO (Kamtapur Liberation Organization) and ULFA (United Liberation Front of Asom) increased. As a result, on 15th December 2003, the Indian Army and the Royal Bhutan Army (RBA) jointly launched Operation All Clear against KLO, ULFA and NDBF (National Democratic Front of Bodoland). As a result due to security issues, consequently, several picnic spots in this area, such as Yamduar (Assam), Kalikhola, Kumargramduar, Newlands, Turturi, and Dhoompara, Sankosh were closed. To reduce the pressure of increasing population, some picnic spots such as Rasikbill, Kunjanagar, Rosomati, Khukshia Park, etc., were developed. These were mostly forested areas near reserve forests. People started visiting these picnic spots in groups using buses, trucks, or small cars. As far as I remember, until around 2004, cooking on a picnic  using firewood was common. In the small settlements of the Terai and Dooars regions, shops selling firewood could be found nearby. Often, in the forest hamlets located just before the picnic spots, stacks of firewood were kept ready for sale. People coming for picnics would buy the required amount of firewood from there, measuring it by weight before taking it along. A problem was that if the fire wasn’t properly extinguished, it could start a forest fire. Beside this, excessive crowds and uncontrolled disposal of waste, especially non-biodegradable plates and glasses, increased pollution, covering the natural beauty of the picnic spots with scattered plastic waste. During this time, local self-help groups were formed. They provided drinking water, cleaned up garbage, and monitored picnic areas for a small fee. Due to strict forest department regulations, around 2005, cooking with gas stoves and ovens became mandatory at picnics in forest areas. Those traveling in small cars brought kerosene stoves for cooking. Picnic activities were allowed in the Jayanti River bed until around 2007–08. Subsequently, following Green Tribunal rules, picnics were prohibited in Buxa Tiger Reserve and its surrounding forests. New picnic spots were developed as substitutes, including Poro Basti, Kodal Basti, Sikia Jhora, Paitkapara, Dalsingpara, Garuchira, etc. Self-help group members also began collecting parking fees from buses, small cars, and other vehicles entering picnic spots to earn something more. As a result, picnic activities that were previously scattered along riverbeds became centralized in designated parking areas. Some local people set up temporary stalls selling tea, chowmein, momos, thukpa, and even hard drinks that feel like small rural fairs instead of natural picnic spots. What was once a peaceful retreat into nature for relaxation and entertainment has now become noisy, with loudspeakers, chaos, and commotion. Quarrels, drunkenness, and occasional fights have become an inseparable part of the picnic experience. What was once called Daina now has a new name—Lal Jhamela Basti. Some people, to avoid the crowds, travel further into the hills in small vehicles. Popular spots include Dudhia, Balason, Rohini, Madhuban, Sevok, Mongpong, Paparkheti, Riang, Kalijhora, Paren, Sakam, Samsi, and Kumai. On 1st January 2010, the Gorkha Janmukti Morcha (GJM) blocked NH10 near Sebok Bridge demanding a separate Gorkhaland state. A few months later, on 15th May, without prior notice, they blocked NH 31 at Malbazar, leading to the closure of picnic spots in the western Dooars. In 2013, the issue escalated when the proposed Gorkhaland included Malbazar, Chalsa, Banarhat in Jalpaiguri district and Kalchini, Madarihat, Jaigaon in Alipurduar district. Conflicts between Nepali-speaking communities in the hills and tribal communities in the tea plantation areas of Jalpaiguri and Alipurduar created further tensions, discouraging people from visiting the Dooars region for picnics in subsequent years due to security issues. During this time, people began avoiding trouble and preferred to go for picnics at places like lower Murti, Dhupjhora, Gajoldoba, Ramsai, Panbari, Duramari, Khuklungbasti, Nathua, Jalpesh, Jamalda, Gosanimari Rajpat, Rajabhatkhawa, Dima, Moner Manus, Panijhora, Nararthali, and Tiyabari Ghat on the banks of the Raidak River. As the state government managed to reach a satisfactory settlement regarding the Gorkhaland issue within a short span of time, the picnic spots of the hills and the Dooars once again regained their charm and beauty. In January 2016, the Bengal Safari picnic spot in the forests of Sukna was inaugurated. Due to the construction of a barrage on the Teesta River, several picnic spots such as Sevoke, Riyang, Kalijhora, and Tribeni were closed down. After some time, other picnic spots like Bandapani, Huntituku, Ultabari, Rangbahadur Basti near Dalsingpara, Mahua, and Lankapara reopened. Most of these places are amusement parks built by local residents, located either in forest areas or along the banks of mountain rivers.

Post Covid Picnic and Outing (Year 2021 - present):

The years 2019–2020 were the period of the COVID pandemic. For nearly two years, we were almost entirely confined to our homes. On social media, some ultra learned personalities even claimed that drinking alcohol could prevent COVID! This pandemic, while socially distancing us from people, also made us give more priority to our own families. After COVID, people tried to avoid public transport such as buses and trains and arranged personal vehicles or bikes whenever possible. As a result, the pattern of picnics changed somewhat after COVID. Unlike earlier, when large buses carried entire neighborhoods, now those with personal means prefer to travel with their family alone. Be it a bike or a four-wheeler, enthusiasts now buy folding chairs, tables, portable gas stoves, fishing rods, tents, etc., from various e-commerce platforms, becoming self-sufficient for their trips. So, whether it’s a small group of four or five friends or a family, most people now travel to different places using their personal vehicles. Although some still consider such trips as “one-day outings” rather than picnics, especially since in many cases people rely on roadside hotels or dhabas instead of cooking themselves. New picnic spots during this time include Gorubathan, Dhoompara, Bandapani, Lankapara, and so on. Every day, buses come here in large numbers from Jalpaiguri, Cooch Behar, Alipurduar, Mathabhanga, Dinahat, and even Tufanganj. Those coming in small cars often go a little higher up the hills rather than stopping at Gorubathan, to places like Paparkheti, Lava, Laligorash, Rocky Island, Sakam, Paren, Jhalong, Bindu, and others. The joy of going on a picnic by bus remains the same as before. For those in small cars, cooking for the whole day is given less priority. Those who do not want to cook at all can try the mutton at Raju Da’s Hotel in Malbazar, Bandana Hotel in Fatapukur, or Boudir Hotel in Lataguri. By evening, seeing the crowd of small cars or big vehicles returning from the picnic, one can understand why Telipara’s tea is so famous. The hit songs of these picnics—songs that could be heard if one stood for about ten minutes at the Falakta bus stand—include “Porom Sundori” from the 2021 movie Mimi, “Jhume Jo Pathan” from the 2022 movie Pathaan, and “Nachu Nachu” from the movie RRR. In my opinion, whether it is a bike or a four-wheeler, the thrill of driving oneself up the hills or along narrow paths through broken forest terrain takes precedence. After gaining more experience and courage in this way, one eventually sets out on long drives to reach farther destinations.

CONCLUSION:

Picnics, outings or travels — all are delightful as long as they remain within control. The joy turns bitter when picnic groups get into quarrels or even physical fights over loud music or reckless overtaking on the road. Nowadays, during the picnic season, if you glance through the daily newspapers, you’ll often come across reports of accidents or clashes among picnic parties. If you look for the reasons behind these incidents, you’ll find the unrestrained obstinacy of young boys and girls who have just stepped from adolescence into youth and refuse to be disciplined. Another contributing factor is the mushrooming of liquor shops everywhere. Today, alcohol consumption is freely at all kinds of social events like funerals, weddings, rice ceremonies, birthdays and even devotional gatherings. So how can picnics remain untouched? The administration has tightened its grip — in many places, there are checkpoints and Breathalyzer tests for drivers, and heavy fines are imposed. The “Safe Drive, Save Life” campaign is also practised actively. Yet, who listens to the voice of reason? Thus, like Tom and Jerry, a game of hide-and-seek continues endlessly.

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Tourist Route Map of Darjeeling and Kalimpong District

Introduction :

During my days staying at VK Hostel in North Bengal University, I used to gaze at the twinkling lights of the Kurseong hills in the evenings and wonder when I would get to visit there. In 2004, I finally went on a trip to Madhuban and Rohini with friends, hiring an autorickshaw for the journey. The mountains have stayed etched in my heart for the last twenty years. Whenever I visit Siliguri for work, I always set aside some time for the hills. There have even been times when, after finishing work at the Higher Secondary Board Office, I went ghost-hunting at Dow Hill, or after dropping a student off for the NET exam, I went for tea at the hills of Tindharia. Driving along the winding roads, I find myself singing to my beloved sitting beside me, “Are Kanchi Timi… ghumau nu Darjeeling sahara.”

Exploring Darjeeling:

It really saddens me when I see hundreds of tourists arriving every day at NJP Railway Station or Bagdogra Airport only to visit Darjeeling town. For them, Darjeeling means nothing more than Tiger Hill, Batasia Loop, Padmaja Naidu Park, Rock Garden, an evening stroll hand in hand along Mall Road, and a ride on the toy train—or at least a selfie with it. Then what about all those waterfalls, rushing rivers, pine forests, the rolling tea gardens along the hillsides, the century-old mansions, monasteries, and the rhododendron forests—are they all to fade into insignificance? It’s no exaggeration to say that if, after 10 p.m., hundreds of water tankers did not bring water from Rohini to fill the reservoirs of the hotels in Darjeeling town, tourists would not even be able to answer the call of nature in the morning. Despite its many problems, Darjeeling has a unique and proud history. The Nepali, Lepcha, Bhutia, Limbu, and Sherpa communities each have their own festivals, customs, food habits, and languages. In contrast, foreign tourists are far more thoughtful. They usually read detailed guidebooks about a place before coming. Then, once here, they compare, observe, and experience everything personally—without the need for guides or assistance. They wander around with books in hand, trying to understand Darjeeling from within. But tourists from our own country do their “study” through Facebook and Instagram—deciding in advance from which angle to take photos that will get the most views on social media. So I am not at all surprised when I overhear a man explaining to his companion,“You see, that white stuff (Sada Maal) hidden behind the clouds—that’s Mt. Kanchenjunga!”

Old Military Road/ Pankhabari Road (Siliguri - Khaprail - Garidhura - Pankhabari - Makaibari - Kurseong Route):

Many historians believe that during the British period, this was the only route from the Bengal Presidency to Darjeeling. Around 1842, Robert Cornelius Napier completed this road under his supervision. At that time, British troops had to travel from Siliguri to Darjeeling either on horseback or on foot via this hilly track. That is why this road was also known as the Old Military Road. The local Sherpas would carry goods on the backs of horses, mules, and other pack animals to Darjeeling. After crossing Garidhura, the road from Pankhabari went straight through Mokaibari to Kurseong, which, in those days, was truly a grueling journey. Later, by 1869, an alternative road was constructed—Hill Cart Road. Today, this route is known as Pankhabari Road. Just below Kurseong, on both sides of the road, several old British-era houses can still be seen, now used as government offices or residences. Jeep taxis returning from Darjeeling to Siliguri travel this road early in the morning, saving some fuel in the process. In 2018, my family and I were returning home via this road. We descended almost 100 feet at each hairpin bend, and the ringing in our ear-drums was constant. The road winds through dense forests of tall pine, sal, and bamboo trees in Bamunpokhri. At each bend, the interplay of sunlight and mist made it feel as if Yamaraj himself was standing nearby, holding his staff, watching us. On the right side of the road, the Balason River valley descends steeply, with the Longview Tea Garden below—a sight simply breathtaking. Occasionally, Pawan Daju, the driver would tell quick, humorous stories in a mix of Hindi and Nepali. Meanwhile, we sat frozen like patches of grass, wide-eyed, fearing imminent danger. Nothing could bring a smile to our faces. After all this time, only one phrase echoed in our ears: “To bolo, hai ki nai!” For returning tourists, this can be considered a last thrill provided by the local drivers. However, if one skips breakfast or overeats at the hotel, headaches and nausea are inevitable on this road. Finally, after the jeep reached the line-hotel, we all felt life return to our bodies. Ever-smiling Pawan Daju once again said: “Kya bola, main ne, bolo hai ki nai?”

Lebong Cart Road / Darjeeling - Jorthang Rd. ( Jorthang - Raammam Bridge - Singla TG - Takvar TG - Chaukbazar - Darjeeling) :

Tourists who wish to visit Sikkim after touring Darjeeling usually take this route. In the past, this road was called Lebong Cart Road. On Google Maps today, it is known as the Darjeeling–Jorethang Road. After visiting Namchi and Char Dham in Sikkim in 2022, we returned to Darjeeling via this road. Our driver, always reliable, was Dipankar. After crossing Jorethang in Sikkim, the road becomes mostly level. However, from the Rammam Bridge, near the Sikkim–West Bengal border, the road is both rough and narrow. After crossing a hanging bridge, the road splits into two directions. When we asked the on-duty police officer, he said that if we take the right path for a while, we would reach Jumani Bridge, and from there we could go to Pulbazar and Bijanbari to reach Darjeeling. But we chose to follow the left path, the Lebong Cart Road. Along this route, there is no guard wall beside the cliffs—only some white lime painted stones mark the edge. My elder brother sat in the front seat, while my mother, my wife, and I were seated behind. Our car was fully packed with people and bedding. At one point, I whispered to Dipankar in a trembling voice, “Drive carefully, Dipankar; otherwise, there will be no one left in my family!” After climbing a little, the valley where Jorethang town of Sikkim lies comes into view, and it looks beautiful. It is worth noting that in Tibetan, Jore means “two” and Thang means “valley.” On this route, the prominent hill villages we passed include Singla, Takver, and finally Chaukbazar, before reaching Darjeeling, the district town. The road is extraordinarily scenic—simply breathtaking. On our right, the Rangit River valley slopes downward. In the tea gardens below, nepali women wearing colorful dresses are busy plucking tea leaves with baskets on their backs. Behind them, the high mountains of Sikkim seem to play with the sunlight and clouds. On our left, the valley’s tea gardens, with their fresh green leaves glittering in the sunlight, caught the eye. Passing by the Singla, Badamtam, and Lebong tea gardens one after another, we finally reached Mitma Homestay in the late afternoon. From here, Darjeeling was only a few minutes away.

Rishi Road / Mirik Rd. (Siliguri - Khaprail - Dudhia - Mirik - Pashupati - Lepcha Jagat - Ghoom - Darjeeling Route) :

Finally, after spending two days in Darjeeling town, we set out for Siliguri in the early morning, having had a heavy breakfast at the hotel. Although during my student life at North Bengal University I had taken many short trips along this route to Mirik, Gopaldera, Golpahari, and up to Pashupati Gate, I had never traveled the stretch from Ghum to Sukhiapokhri before. Our always-reliable driver, Dipankar, had also not been on this route previously. Anyway, after leaving Ghoom, we took the right-hand road. Since we were descending from the hills to the plains, there wasn’t likely to be much difficulty. The road was flanked by dense pine forests, and after we stopped at one place. Many cars were lined up along the narrow road. Tourists were busy keeping themselves in selfie mode. This place is called Lepcha Jagat. Due to the thick pine forest, it felt quite cold even at noon. A little further, we reached the Simana View Point. From here we drived at the India–Nepal international border along the roadside. From the Simana, a path leads towards Manebhanjan, Chitre, Lamadhura, and further up to Singalila National Park. Mountain climbers and trekkers, both domestic and foreign, usually collect supplies from Manebhanjan, which is nearby from Simana, before heading toward peaks such as Tonglu, Sandakphu, Sabargaram, and Falut. After having some tea and momos to beat the cold, we resumed our journey. We passed India - Nepal Pashupati Gate, Gufapatal Picnic Spot (Nepal), Gopaldera Tea Garden, Golpahari, one by one, and reached Mirik. After having lunch and visiting Mirik Lake and Park, we set out again. Following Tingling View Point and the tea gardens, the road became easier, so I took the driver’s seat. It is surprising that the iron bridge at Dudhiya, which I had driven over, was completely abandoned during the floods of October 5, 2025.

Hill Cart Road (Siliguri - Darjeeling More - Sukna - Rongtong - Gayabari - Paglajhora - Kurseong - Ghoom - Darjeeling) :

The old route to Darjeeling is the Hill Cart Road. Since the British era, all the essential supplies for the Darjeeling hills were transported along this path. After India’s independence, the road was renamed National Highway 55. I still remember — around 2005, when I was studying at the University of North Bengal, we had traveled by bus to Kurseong along this road. The special feature of this route is that the world-famous Darjeeling Himalayan Railway (the Toy Train) runs along it — twisting and turning, sometimes on the right and sometimes on the left side of the road. Starting from Darjeeling More, the road passes through the Sukna forest, cutting right through the Mahananda Wildlife Sanctuary toward Rongtong. From there, it winds up through the hills, passing several settlements — the most notable being Sipaidhura, Gayabari, Mahanadi, Tindharia, Giddapahar, and Kurseong. At Tindharia, there is a workshop of the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway. I once heard from a professor that low-grade coal from the Tertiary period is found in this region — these coal used to power the steam engines of the toy train. If luck favours you, you might even spot the famous steam locomotive “Baby Sevoke” chugging along this route. The sight of the toy train gliding beside the road and the rhythmic “koo-jhik-jhik” sound it makes remain etched in the memory forever. As the bus moved on, we gazed around in amazement. Soon we reached a stretch of broken, landslide-prone road. A little further ahead, through the left window, we saw a magnificent waterfall — Pagla Jhora. Though breathtaking in winter, during the monsoon it brings down mud, rocks, and debris, often blocking the road. Before long, our bus arrived at its destination — a seminar venue located right opposite Giddapahar, at the Netaji Museum and Centre for Languages, Society and Culture. The sunset that evening, seen from Giddapahar toward Rohini, is still unforgettable. Nearly twenty years later, in 2023, I drove along this same road myself, with my brother Dipankar beside me. The road is now officially called National Highway 110. It is quite narrow in places — when one vehicle passes, the other must stop to make way. The roadside signboards are well-marked, so recalling places from memory wasn’t difficult. The ascent on this route isn’t too steep, making it ideal for new drivers heading to Darjeeling. From Sipaidhura, a side road branches off to the right, climbs upward, and crosses the Shivkhola River before reaching Sittong, the land of oranges. After twenty years, I noticed that in many stretches the toy train tracks have nearly sunk into the ground. The Siliguri Junction–Darjeeling toy train service has been suspended for quite some time. Now, the toy train only runs between Darjeeling and Ghum, and then returns. Alas! Due to lack of maintenance, the heritage Darjeeling Himalayan Railway stations, once honoured by UNESCO, are now overgrown with wild grass and weeds. Still, after capturing photographs of the surroundings, we finally reached our destination.

Subhash Ghising Marg/ Rohini Rd. (Siliguri - Darjeeling More - Sukna - Simulbari - Rohini - Kurseong - Ghoom - Darjeeling) :

Just before Durga Puja in 2024, all of us set out once again on our way to Darjeeling — this time with my brother Dipankar. Today would be the real test of how perfect my driving skills had become over the years! The problem with the Rohini–Kurseong road is the heavy traffic. The road is not only steep but also full of sharp hairpin bends. Cars move in a line like a chain — one small mistake, an engine stall, or a sudden brake, and the vehicles behind come to an abrupt halt. If a car so much as bumps into another, it quickly turns into shouting and sometimes even physical scuffles. From Shimulbari, as we drove through the tea gardens, the road was fairly good — straight and wide. But once we crossed the Rohini toll gate, I realized how steep the ascent really was. At every hairpin bend, I had to honk, switch to first gear, and almost swerve into the opposite lane to climb the hill. Adding to the chaos were the Siliguri–Darjeeling route’s shared jeep taxis, which overtook from whichever side had the slightest gap. After several winding turns, I caught sight of a waterfall on the right — no time to check its name. Ahead was an Indian Oil tanker; behind us buzzed bikes, scooters, and cars like flies. By then, my knees and ankles were aching from pressing the clutch and brake continuously, and to make things worse, it started to drizzle. Near the “I Love Kurseong” point, thick fog joined the party. Meanwhile, the passengers in the back kept offering endless advice, sarcastic remarks, and desperate pleas for safety — as if I might abandon the journey midway and calm everyone’s nerves! Somehow, gritting my teeth and holding my ground, I managed to pass that day’s test successfully.

That time we first went to Beltar. While descending from Kurseong through the Maharani and Margarita tea estates, we could see the Beltar Resort from a distance. From there, we came through the Bagora Forest to Chimney. Good strawberries are available here. After enjoying hot tea and momos, we returned to Kurseong via Dow Hill.

Peshok Road (Teesta Bazar - Peshok - Lamahatta - takdah - 3rd Mile - Jorbunglow Route) :

After crossing the Rabijhora Bridge on the Sikkim-bound National Highway 10 from Sevoke, the Peshok Road begins on the right-hand side. It was January 2021 — I came along this road with my new car, accompanied by my wife and my brother Dipankar. Listening to FM Radio Misty 94.3, Dipankar drove towards Darjeeling. After passing Teesta Bazaar, we came across the famous Spiral Loop on this route. The car has to climb uphill making a turn of more than 360 degrees — truly thrilling and a bit terrifying. A little further along the winding road, we stopped at Lovers’ View Point. Looking down from there, one can clearly see the confluence of the Rungit and Teesta rivers. The spot below is known as the Triveni Picnic Spot. If you look closely, you can see people and rafting boats on the white sandy banks. After the 2023 floods, however, the Triveni campsite was closed. Our car continued climbing higher through dense forests of sal and teak. After a while, I caught a faint burning smell. When I asked about it, Dipankar said, “It’s nothing serious—just a bit of smell from the clutch plate while driving uphill.” After some time, the valley of the Rungit River on the right slowly disappeared from view. On the left began the rolling slopes of the Peshok Tea Garden. From the tea estate, a few roads descend leftward towards the villages of Tinchuley, Bara Mangwa, and Chhota Mangwa. Compared to NH 10, there are far fewer vehicles on this route. Along the roadside, local villagers sat with stalls displaying large radishes, koas (turnips), and various vegetables grown on their farms. A little higher up, tall pine forests appeared on both sides — this was Takdah Forest. Soon, a signboard caught our eye: “Welcome to Lamahatta Eco Hut.” There was no parking charge. We bought entry tickets for ₹20 each and entered the park. Once, this place used to be a Lama village. Walking up to the top of the park, we found a serene pond, regarded as sacred by local Buddhists. After capturing a few photos, we enjoyed tea and momos for tiffin before moving ahead. A little further along, a narrow road on the right led down to a village named Dabaipani. As we drove through the Takdah Forest, the calls of many different birds could be heard. It is said that black panthers roam here at dusk. Far away on the right, we could see the Lepchu Tea Garden — the smoke rising from its factory signaled the day’s busy work. Finally, we arrived at a small settlement called 3rd Mile, consisting of only a few houses. It can be called a junction on this route. Two roads branch off to the left — one goes toward Chatakpur, Bagora Forest, and Mahal Diram, while the other leads through Mongpu to Rambi Bazaar. We continued along Peshok Road. Evening was setting in. Our car moved forward with headlights on, through the cool, dense forest. This was the Senchal Forest — one of Darjeeling’s famous bird sanctuaries. Several birdwatchers from abroad had come here; after seeing some of their photographs, I felt my own knowledge had been enriched a little. After a few more turns along the hilly road, we finally headed toward Jorebungalow.

Mungpoo Road ( Rambi Bazar - Mungpoo - 3rd Mile - Jorebunglow Route) :

In 2008, a few friends and I went on a trip to the hills. Due to landslides, both the Sikkim-bound NH 10 and Peshok Road were closed, so our driver took us toward Mongpu. Around that time, I had just bought a small Nikon Coolpix digital camera. I captured some photos at the Bhalukhop viewpoint. After that, we reached Mongpu. There, we visited a museum associated with Rabindranath Tagore’s memory. We also saw the cultivation of cinchona trees. However, the road conditions were terrible. The continuous jolts caused pain in my neck, back, and limbs. From Mongpu, one can go to Darjeeling via 3rdMile. On the other side, crossing the Yogighat Bridge from Mongpu leads to Sitong—the orange paradise—and Mahal Diram. Anyway, that time we traveled through Ahaldara and Latpanchar, then descended via Kalijhora.

Priyankar Roy @ Protected Content ©

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