tomake chai

'tomake chai' kuri bochore pa dilo. bangla ganer ekti onyotomo biplob, amra jara tar shakkhi thekechi tader aj ek rongeen din. aj sei shoroter sokaler kotha mone porche, jedin bhorbela moshari khulei dekhlam pujor jonyo notun cassette esheche, denimer shirt pore ek bhodrolok hate ekta guitar niye boshe achen. sumanke chinlam, sumaner gan ke chinlam. ar sumaner gan chenate shekhalo onyo ek jogot. suman inspiration dilen somor sen porbar, suman shekhalen biplob ar premer obichchedyo songya. tomake chai shunei bodhoy shoishob theke koishore uttoron hoyechilo ekti projonmer.solil chowdhury-ke notun kore chiniye dilen suman, himanshu dutter nam notun kore anka holo tnar-i sure. notun projonmo tnar ganer line diye poster likhlo,prempotro likhlo ar likhlo jiboner onyo ek bhasha. samyobader gan ghume jagorone tochnoch kore dilo kolkatar nobin akash. mone ache sumaner lekha prothom boita kinte boimelay line deoya,'tomake chai' -er srostar hoye otha ganer golpo, prokasher din i copy-ta songroho kore jotno kore molat lagano hoyechilo. 'tomake chai' bolechilo premer sathe guitar-er ekta kothay jano dibbi sundor somporko ache.je sumaner gan bhalobashe na, ami konodin tar preme pori ni. koishore onek class-er fnake bondhuder geye shuniyechi 'boishakhi jhore ami tomake chai'.onek asharer megh-ke soriye diyeche tomake chai.'tomake chai' hoye uthechilo amar prothom cell phone-er welcome note. aj, ekti ganer jonmodine ei lekhata likhte boshe mone holo, e ganer jonmo amader jobonkei ekta notun jonmo diyeche.ekta gan palte dite pare etokichu? aj arekbar fire dekha, shune neoya sei gan-ke.ar socchar hoye eksathe bole otha-sesh porjonto tomake chai.

My journey with myself..

One little girl traveled these roads years ago, holding the hands of her parents. Today she is traveling alone, but her memories are indicating her ways. The building with a big garden is known to her, which she had drawn in her drawing book, using the new wood pencil from mussoorie. And the balcony of the ashrama, which was her drawing studio once upon a time, is almost unchanged!

My journey to Rishikesh-Mussoorie-Haridwar was a very special journey for me, because I traveled here with the shadow of a little girl. My childhood roadmap was showing my ways.

The journey began from Anand Vihar ISBT at almost midnight, when I boarded a roadways bus for Haridwar.I had to change the bus at Haridwar early in the morning and reached Rishikesh at around 7 a.m. I found myself among the crowd of Bengali and Tamil pilgrims. The old Bengali lady, who perhaps has come for the pilgrimage with a very little money which she has saved was crossing the Shivananda Ram Jhula-the hanging bridge over the Ganges with me. The familiar language was heard at almost every corner of the small town, which was making me very nostalgic. The woman who has come a long way to travel this pilgrimage is perhaps of my age. But it is probably very difficult for her to accept that one Bengali woman is traveling alone. And when you are wearing a bindi and a dupatta, you are never alone in a north Indian road travel.

I wanted to stay at the 'Banprastha Ashram' where I had stayed years ago. But the ashrama does not allow single persons. So I booked a cheap room at the Paramarth Niketan Ashram. I spotted a fantastically located restaurant on the Ganges which has a spectacular view of the river.spending hours there.A sudden storm changed the colour of the river and the whole frame of picture. A took a long walk through the bank of Ganges at reached Laxmanjhula. On the way I met a nun who is actively involved with the Save Ganges Campaign. The primary target at Laxmanjhula was the German Bakery where I had an amazing apple famble.Came back to Rishikesh by an auto and spent some more time with the calmness of the river.

Rishikesh to Mussoorie was a journey of almost 3 hours.I took a local bus from Rishikesh and changed another bus from Dehradun-the capital of Uttarakhand. The old British-styled buildings are a typical feature of Dehradun city, though the city now has a number of branded shops. Woodlands, Cafe Coffee Day and Spykar Jeans showrooms have changed the cityscape.

Our bus moved through the hilly roads, and the cold breeze brought the news that the 'queen of the hill' is not far. I had booked a room at the Youth Hostel which is 6 k.m distant from the Mussoorie town.But the area is not crowded like the Mussoorie bazar area and has a nice view of green mountains. I dumped my luggage at the hostel and rushed to the main Mussoorie bazar by a roadways bus. I was terribly hungry, so I reached my favourite Tibetan food joint Kalsung and ordered a plate of fried momo and a bowl of thukpa. Reached hostel around 6 p.m.and spent a silent evening with green and black mountains.

The next morning, I had planned a wonderful trek. Trek route of course destined Landour, which is my favourite part of mussoorie.I walked through Landour bazar,I entered a few of my favourite old antique shops. I walked to the famous 'char dukan' (the four shops and the Landour church. While walking down, I stopped for linch at the Chhaya Cafe-chicken pot pie and the chocolate cake was absolutely mouthwatering.I walked down till Mussoorie bazar and took a rope way ride. When the rope way reached the view point at gun hill, it started raining heavily. Rain at the hill top, and the dark green pine and devdar trees. It was amazing.

I was supposed to take a night bus for Delhi, but I suddenly changed my plans. Took a bus to Haridwar.Already booked a hotel over phone, but I was amazed to see the wonderful location of the hotel.

The last morning of the trip was taking a walk at the bank of Ganges near the Har ki Pauri ghat.I have written some part of it sitting at a ghat, from where I have also floated a flower and lamp boat.Early lunch at the famous 'Dada Boudir hotel' reminded me again of my childhood.

The roadways bus for Delhi left Haridwar at 12 noon. I got a front seat at the bus. The return journey brought many thoughts.My journey with the shadow of the little girl never brought a feeling of loneliness. My footsteps followed the mental map of my childhood journey. I tried to recall my journey on the rope way, my sharing of lunch from my mother's plate.

The journey was like a pink page fairy tale, the clouds, the stream of the river and the lush green mountains never allowed me to feel alone. And the little girl did not wave her hands to me when I started my return journey. She started nesting inside me after the journey...to my surprise..