The Mountains of Sohra..

Another beautiful experience...another place… (Maybe I should just call this whole blog my experiences with Nature… as all I seem to write about is its magic.

Anyway, this time it’s a place called Cherrapunjee. Yes, the place which holds the position for having the highest rainfall in the whole world. Actually, the position toggles between Cherrapunjee and a place in its vicinity, Mausynram and I’m not really sure which is currently occupying the top rank. Locally the place is called Sohra, from which the name Cherrapunjee had been derived years ago.

Anyway, since I’ve lived in Shillong which is just about one and a half hrs away from Cherrapunjee, I had been there previously.

People always ask me, ‘Is is always raining there?? Is it all wet and damp there’. And I always tell them that its not like that. I don’t think it has ever been. Until two years, it did rain plenty, but since then, even the rain has decreased. Little known to many people, Cherrapunjee is also known as a Wet Desert. It might be blessed with rain showers, but it is not able to retain the water.

The soil is of a rocky nature because of the presence of lime (I guess), extremely impervious to water. Also due to the heavy rain, the top soil is eroded and with it, so is the capacity to soak the water. You would see hills with no vegetation except a layer of grass and some bushes. No pine trees, or for that matter, trees of any kind. It might rain a lot, but all the water drains away, the soil not being able to soak it. Most of the time, there is an acute water shortage there. Strange isn’t it? But you have to see it to believe it.

Anyway, that day, we left in the morning, hoping to catch a sunny day there, because the last time I’d been there it had been a foggy trip. Because it was a large group we had had fun, but we were not really able to enjoy Mother Nature’s visual extravaganza. Fog had so engulfed the entire area that we had even had to slow down the car as visibility on the roads was extremely low.

Anyway, back to this trip – We were lucky regarding the weather. A clear blue sky with tiny patches of snow white promised a great day of sightseeing. The road to Cherrapunjee is, in itself, a treat for the eyes. For the first half, one comes across almost empty countryside with miles and miles of green interspersed with a few houses here and there. And the road is good (most of the time) - a smooth ride. Halfway through, the countryside is replaced by gorges and cliffs - a single road meandering across kilometers and kilometers of immediate nothingness on the left, and a single wall on the right. The view is breathtaking. On the left, just across the deep gorge is another mountain of almost the same height, which has a road which leads to the border town of Dawki. On the right, it’s not a cliff exactly, more like vertical hills with vegetation.

I usually get a little nauseous on such hilly trips, but this once I decided that I wasn’t going to miss any of the scenery and I’m glad I was able to keep my eyes open without feeling sick.

Our first destination in Cherrapunjee was not, as expected anything natural. It was the Ramakrishna Mission. Established in the earlier part of the century, this institution is a part of much larger organization which has centres all over the country (world even). Apart from the shrine dedicated to Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa, it has a school complete with boarding facilities, workshops for Weaving, and other handicrafts, the whole atmosphere within the portals of the place is one of discipline and peace.

Next we headed for the Nohkalikai falls. There’s a rather morbid folk tale (which was told by my mother that evening after we’d returned home) associated with this majestic waterfalls. One can’t really judge the credibility or truth of the tale but I’ll share it nevertheless. Why should I be the only one grossed out by the story?

"Once upon a time a widow and her daughter lived in a small hut on the mountain from where the waterfall emerges. The one day, a man came into the life of the widow and she decided to re-marry. As in all such cases, the step-father disliked the daughter intensely and the mother was always worried about the safety of her daughter and so never left her side. One day, due to some urgent reason, the mother had to go to the village nearby. As her husband was not there at home that time, she decided it was safe to leave her daughter there and went away. After some hours, when she came back, she found that her husband had returned and was cooking. He seemed very happy. On looking around, she found her daughter missing and upon enquiring, he told that she had left to roam around in the forest and would return later. Dreading the worst, she decided to go searching for her daughter, when he said that she could search after eating the meal. She reluctantly agreed. He served the meal; rice, meat etc."

Here the story gets a little hazy…I’m not sure how it was that the widow found out…. Maybe
the husband told her, ecstatic in the success of
his gross maneuver, or she deduced it..

What maneuver, you ask? Well, he had obviously killed the daughter, and then….had cooked her up and had served her as lunch to the very person who had borne her.

Yea I know. Sick

The story goes that the mother was so shattered, she could not want her own life to continue…. So, she jumped off the waterfalls - a very watery end to her existence.

I don’t know whether the falls was named after her or her daughter or if the name is at all related to the story. Nevertheless....

[24th July,2007 :
Its been a while since i posted this, but recently a fellow Shillongite commented on the blog and gave a new version to the Nohkalikai folk tale... here goes..

"....and the story is quite similar, except that she found the fingers and toes of the child in the 'kwai' box and I think the falls only formed after she jumped from the cliff - hence the name Noh(dive/jump) ka likai (the dive/jump point of likai). Anyway, such is the case with folktales eh---they're always changing yet nevertheless survive the changing times.."]

Anyway, the Nohkalikai falls emerges from a cliff which is a body of rock connecting 2 parallel mountains; Very much like the road on which we traveled, here also there are 2 mountains separated by a smaller distance, facing each other. So, one can’t actually go to the place where the waterfalls drops, one can only view it from strategically placed viewpoints on one of the mountains. Because of the distance and height, from the viewpoints, the falls looks much smaller than the massive body of water it actually is. However, the intensity of the sound of rushing water, even at such a distance never lets anyone forget the royal splendour of the haunting falls..;

Localites say that the Nohkalikai commands patience from the people who come to see it. The reason being an almost perennial envelop of fog hovering over the valley where the waterfalls is located. That day too, everything was sunny when we reached Cherrapunjee, however as we neared the viewpoints, by some extraordinary coincidence, the weather partially became foggy.

Amazingly, on the road we were on, on one side was bright sunshine, on the other (the side where the waterfalls was), sparse clouds seemed to float around, creating a semi-opaque environment. By the time we reached the viewpoint, the fog had completely enveloped the mountain and the valley
below, which meant that all we got to see when we overlooked the viewpoint, was a white screen - sometimes thinning with the wind...sometimes thickening. As the last time I had been there was a long time ago, I had completely forgotten how the falls was - as in, amongst all the endless white, I couldn’t at all visualize the falls… whether it was near or far, whether the falls was dropping from the mountain where we standing or the next, whether the water flow was high or low… not a clue.... The only feel we could get, that a massive water body was crashing in the vicinity, was the constant sound of gushing water. It’s a powerful sound… haunting and melodious at the same time.

Some people were already waiting at the viewpoints, hoping that the fog would clear soon. To stand there, with nothing but an envelop of white and grey to entertain you, is indeed trying. Especially when you know there are other beautiful falls where you can go...For the first few minutes, the fog showed no sign of thinning; the weather got cloudier. At that point, my father (who is a singularly restless person) thought we should move ahead. I persisted, ‘a few minutes more’, ‘a few minutes more’…; we also joined the crowd. The first 10-15 minutes tried our patience because we could see just about nothing…. After that, if a wind blew in the right direction, the fog cleared for a few minutes,
revealing a little green with even smaller patches of brown, giving some indication of what lay beneath...

And then, again, within seconds, the wind, changing its mood would restore the whiteness of the scene, and we would all be left thirsting for a clearer picture. And then, magically, gradually, as if wanting to keep its spectators in suspense for as long as possible, the fog cleared.

At first, I could just see the lower portion of the
waterfall, i.e. the pool where the water flowed into.
Even in the slight fog, the sea green colour of the
water was magnificent. Amidst all that white, to
see such a brilliant shade of green in a pool of water was unexpected. I couldn’t take my eyes away from the wonderful vision unfolding in front of my eyes. Gradually, we could see the larger picture, the mountain at the other side, the valley below, the point at the cliff from where the water emerges, the green carpet of trees, the water trickling( from that distance it seemed to be trickling) down form the pool farther and farther away…

An amazing collage of white, green, brown and blue colours, all demanding our attention.

After that, actually speaking, we saw nothing as magnificent. The reality of the water problem hit
us when we saw cliffs, which previously had huge waterfalls emerging at regular distances, all dry. At the distance, one could see the different colour of the cliff at the points where waterfalls used to exist.. It was a distinctly lighter shade of brown as compared to the rock surface around it. On one stretch of cliff, where earlier there used to be 4 waterfalls racing to a rocky bottom, all but one had dried up. And the remaining one was of extremely low water volume… It was a saddening sight. My parents, who had been there many times more than me, were very disillusioned. It was like the beauty of Cherrapunjee, as they had known and seen, was vanishing. Decreased rainfall the last two years had seriously reduced the
natural beauty of the place.

Then, we went to the Maushmai caves. Made of
natural stalagmites and stalactites, these caves
have an exactly opposite effect on one; here comes in place the mystery and danger of nature. The last time I was there, there were no lights within the caves, and we’d taken candles and had entered the caves at one side and after getting past nooks and crevices (with the guidance of our tour guide), so small that it was almost unbelievable that we went through them. This time, although there were lights arranged inside, it was nevertheless more eerie.

Inside actually there are supposedly two ways to go.. one way exits about 150 metres, and
another supposedly leads to Bangladesh.. It is
said that previously the second path was used by traffickers to smuggle goods across and so now that path is blocked. Anyway, after walking for some metres and feeling the cold and clammy rocks, I reached a place from where a small opening which was the only way to proceed further. I decided it was time to face the sunshine once again.

The next place was a waterfalls with the same name as the caves.. Maushmai falls.. probably because they’re located pretty near to each other.. As in most of the sights in Cherrapunjee, you can’t actually be at the falls; you can only view it from a distance. There too our disillusionment
was ongoing –the huge water body had dwindled
into a thread of white from the distance. The
viewpoint is spread over a large area on top of a mountain, complete with a restaurant and all. From there, the plains of Bangladesh are visible. They look very near. Its pretty awesome actually; a range of mountains drastically ending, diminishing into total plains - one can even make out the rivers, fields….

I suppose the Bangladesh border area we saw is totally rural. Hence, there was no sign of civilization from that distance. But the total effect of the nature’s contrary creations; plains and heights- side by side looks really unreal.

A better and slightly nearer view of the Bangladesh plains was obtained at the next place we visited; out last stop in Cherrapunjee. It is
actually a man-made park designed on top of yet another mountain. The highlight of the park is its panoramic view of Bangladesh as well as yet another waterfall which falls further down the road we came through -Kynrem Falls. The falls is such that it pours just next to the road (the road leads to Shella - a small town/village situated in the valley among the mountains). Since it’s much farther down the road, people usually don’t go all the way. A photograph of the falls, which my father had taken years ago from the road and which is now enlarged and framed in our drawing room, shows just how beautiful the falls looks from down below.

We too didn’t go. From there, we directly started
the return journey back to Shillong. If while going, I couldn’t take our eyes off the picturesque terrain, while returning I couldn’t stop glancing at the clouds. When we were on the part of the road with the gorges…I could see proper clouds (I say proper because you can’t mistake these clouds for thick fog) rising up from below, to the surface of the mountain tops, to finally merge into the heavenly skies. It was an unearthly sight… cottony masses gradually rising as if they belonged there…on the terra firma.

Further away as the late afternoon transformed into dusk, my fascination with sunsets was rewarded. I couldn’t precisely see the sunset, but the resplendent havoc created by the sunrays and the clouds amongst the greenery was more than enough. Red and gold mixed in different proportions, painting each shade present in the glorious portrait of the sky.

I sighed. The trip had come to an end…
One day….so much of beauty…
Unforgettable.