The Soul of Shillong

Shillong has always been recognized as the Rock Capital of India. And the little hill city does live up to its reputation. In no other Indian city/town would you hear taxis belting out rock ballads or see fountains dancing to the tune of Dream Theatre in a park.


Music is part and parcel of the daily life of the people and scores of bands have been formed and have split over the generations. But very few have made it as big as Soulmate, the quintessential Blues band of India. This two piece band of veteran Rudy Wallang and the beautiful Tipriti (Tips) Kharbangar came together in 2003 and released their first album “Shillong” in 2005. Tips is recognized as one of the finest female vocalists in India and Rudy was awarded “The Best Guitar Player” in 2009 (JD Awards). Soulmate’s music has been inspired by the roots & groove sounds of Rock n Roll, Blues, Blues Rock, Funk and R&B but their songs also have a deep influence of the Khasi way of life and Shillong in particular. The band has earned fame in International festivals like the Jakarta Blues Festival and the International Blues Challenge (Chicago).


In India Blues & Jazz has always had a niche audience but for anyone who loves music, Soulmate is an experience they shouldn’t miss out on. Their live acts are captivating, stirring the deepest emotions in the audience and leaving them speechless. And if you haven’t heard them yet, it’s high time you did on:
http://www.myspace.com/soulmateshillong

Digboi to Pune Via Delhi - Part II

Over Delhi en route to Pune: 11:30 p.m. 20.2.2011

When seen from above, one can witness the complexity of human life, in the millions of flickering lights. The air is clearer because of the evening rains and I try hard to locate, the flash of light that just attracted my attention. From so high above it looks like a humongous network of incandescent veins coming alive with teeming human activity as the city prepares to sleep.

As I look down it seems pockets of this labyrinthine modern metropolis have an aura around them, because here the lights shine more brightly than in other parts. Are these, the so called posh areas of the city? I wonder. Is it possible to identify the growing rich and poor divide even so high above? Even when everything looks so quiet, pristine and accommodating, I remember the different people I have seen over the years on the streets of Delhi. Hungry, homeless, young children running after the traffic to make a buck or two with the small knick knacks that they try to sell. Young women carrying babies crying out of hunger and malnutrition. Beggars with various mutilations in different parts of their body desperately seeking help from passers by. I wonder if they would be sleeping under one of these million lights trying to catch its warmth and survive this cold winter night.

Now we rise above, slowly through the white clouds, which were an intimidating grey some hours back when I had landed here in Delhi. But now, the moonlight slowly pierces through the thin blanket and as we rise higher, I can see the heavenly counterparts of the lights below. I wonder how, even after being out of sight, the sun still sends its warmth across through the moon which is now being reflected by a carpet of woolen white. It looks endless, as far as my eyes can see, and the vast expanse of sky above, with the lone moon and the faint stars look mightier still.

Digboi to Pune Via Delhi - Part I

I finally managed to go home after one and half long years. Digboi. I had a zillion plans for photography during my 12 day stay as this was the first time I was equipped with a camera. Unfortunately the pre monsoon showers played spoilt sport and I did not get much sun and clear weather.





The skies here in this part of the country are different. The clouds finally seem to have reached home after a long journey and seem to be almost stationery. Grey clouds come here to shed their sorrows and become white again. But this thought makes me wonder, that if it is sorrow how come the earth looks happier and brighter after a shower. Endless downpours level out the innumerable potholes that deck the narrow roads of the highway that passes through town. However, just across, on the IOCL Township of the town roads are better maintained and the rains seem to rejuvenate them. The gushing of waters into the drains announces the arrival of the pre monsoon showers which stay here for quite a long time.









I still managed some rides to the Arunachal order near Changlang via Margherita, the road leading to which is decked with numerous tea estates and plantations. The Dehing river which passes through Margherita still looks pretty as the sun sets and it waits for the monsoons to become full again. The Margherita-Changlang road is a connection to one of the remotest corners of the country which is known for its beautiful tropical forests, amazing tribes and the famous Stilwell Road which passes through onward into Myanmar and China.





Digboi in itself is a historic oil town. This was the birth place of the Indian Oil industry with the first oil refinery being established here in 1901 and oil being first found as early as 1889. I couldn’t visit the oil fields (due to various restrictions) which has a massive 998 oil wells and was the primary driver of the British offensive in Burma (Myanmar) against the Japanese in the Second World War. The oil fields are an experience in itself with Jurassic Park like vegetation and tall oil well structures that have stood the test of time. Leopards, elephants, deer and scores of species of birds find it a safe haven without any poachers.







The refinery on the other hand has undergone extensive modernization in the past decade to keep up with technology and rising demand. The centenary park that marks the 100 years of the town is a beautiful, quiet place that basks under the flames and lights of the refinery just across the road. I also couldn’t visit the Oil Museum which documents the history of the town and I must say (I’ve been there before) it takes you back in time and is surely an experience.













The Digboi War cemetery on the east side of the town is home to soldiers who gloriously fought in the Second World War and made their greatest sacrifice. Some of them from as far away as Egypt, many from England, Indians from other states and some of them unknown yet known to God. This quiet and peaceful refuge for their souls maybe far away from their home country but I am sure it’s perfect for them to be next to their Brothers in Arms. I quietly saluted them as they lay next to their brothers and under God’s grace. Right next to the cemetery is the Digboi Reserve Forest which is a delight for birdwatchers but one has to be careful to avoid the leopards and elephants. I managed to spot a Siberian Duck that makes Digboi and its surrounding areas its winter home.





Digboi and its surrounding towns and villages have a lot to offer to the tourist who wants to have a laidback vacation amidst verdant tea gardens and forests. And if you are curious enough the history behind these places will surely mesmerize you.

Enchanting Kasol & Magical Malana

There are places and then there are Places! Nestled in the magical Parvati valley of the Himachal is the beautiful village of Kasol. Kasol can be reached by a twelve hour bus ride from Delhi to Bhuntar (on the road to Manali) from where one needs to either take a taxi or a local bus for another journey of around 2 hours to reach the village. Foreigners abound the place and accommodation is available at pretty cheap rates in the many guest houses that sprawl the hills and the conifer woods.

The white waters of the Parvati river flow in an eternal effort against the huge boulders through the meandering valley, where sunlight finds it hard to warm the chilling ice cold winds blowing to reach the mountains. No wonder people come here and stay back many making this mystical land their home for years.

I am not talking about Indians. Most of the Indian tourists find the neighbouring Manikaran (a Sikh pilgrimage) more appealing famous for its natural hot water springs.

Kasol is known to be the home of backpackers from the West, a lot of them being from Israel. They do come here for the beauty of the place, but there is one more thing that draws them to this far corner of the Himalayas. Kasol and the neighboring villages of Tosh, Malana and Jari are the home to supposedly the best Hashish in the world – “The Malana Cream”.

Infact, if we would remove the Hash out of the equation, probably the village wouldn’t remain as appealing to the Westerners as it does now. The entire businesses of Kasol, right from the taxis, the guest houses, the cafes and restaurants and the scores of handicraft and clothes shops depend indirectly on the steady supply of the Hashish to the Chillums and joints of the visiting tourists. Yes, this is one place in India where people do smoke pot freely, without any inhibitions.

This is one of the last Hippie settlements of the country with a culture similar to that of Old Manali and parts of Goa. Its not that Indians don’t come here. But to the average Indian family Kasol might be more of a culture shock than a tourist destination. Yet the so called Chilled Out crowd does come here, spending whatever they can from the savings of their mundane city lives.

Kasol has recently transformed into a base for trekkers to Sar Pass, Yanker Pass, Pin Parbati Pass and Khiriganga. Foreigners are attracted to the scenic valley, untouched hills, low population, and great climate throughout the year.

The night skies here high up in the Himalayas are some of the clearest in the world with zillions of stars adorning the darkness till as far as the naked eye can see. And if you are lucky you can spot the occasional meteor shower too. Sitting outside braving the spine chilling cold late at night one is taken into a different world altogether, a world of constellations and distant sparkling stars that talk to you in their own magical language. Its an experience which cannot be described. You have to see it to believe it, late into the night when the worldly lights give way to the lights from above.

A twenty five odd kilometer taxi ride from Kasol takes you to the mysterious village of Malana, from where the Malana cream originates. From the last stop Nirang, one has to endeavor on a two hour trek to the village, the inhabitants of which claim to be the descendants of Alexander The Great.

Legend says that when Alexander came to India, he got defeated, and returned. His soldiers who were very tired, did not want to get back. They found Himachal Pradesh, cool like most of us do, and decided to stay back. And, they inhabit Malana now. Malanis believe they are superior, and that the rest of the people are untouchables. Infact, if you by chance happen to touch them or any of their temples, you would have to pay a heavy fine as penalty. Till recently the village was completely cut off from the outside world. It is amazing to think how these people have survived in their own self sustaining way over centuries so high up in the Himalayas. Maybe the Cream helped them with it.

However the recent construction of the Malana Hydropower Project has spoilt the serenity and beauty of this virgin land. The village itself which suffered a fire a couple of years back has concrete structures now, replacing the beautiful wood carved houses of the past. DTH services and even a computer education institute are now present in the village premises. Villagers who looked at outsiders with a kind of loathing in the past now don’t mind interacting with them, most being youth, who want to sell Stuff to them or bartering the odd gadgets in return. There is even a guest house at the village now. With the outside influence cropping up Malana might slowly lose its enchanting charm it was once famous for.

Things are slowly changing in the Parvati valley with commercialization creeping in. But to the freedom and nature loving traveler it will still remain a mystical haven. A place where one can forget all of the outside and become one with snow capped mountains, virgin forests and white waters.