My Memory of You
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I am a homesick person without a home, but I have roots that gives me a privilege to say that I belong to somewhere.
The picture I have attached here is not so good for your eyes but this is very special to me. I took this picture when I used to live in Haat Bazaar , the heart of the Kalimpong, totally unaware that someday this ordinary picture would become the reminder of every beautiful thing I have seen and felt.
Haat bazaar is the centre of market with hundreds of stalls and vendors. It is an amazing experience to stroll around those stalls where you can get everything ffom toyshop, clothing stalls, fish market, organic vegetables stalls, varieties of cereals and spices, bought from the outskirts of town, and mouth watering momo and fhumbi stalls.
I miss them all. The owners of those shops would come so early, before sunrise to set up their stalls for per diem businesses. I lived right beside those shops and stalls, a small apartment at the 5th floor with amazing view of whole Haat bazaar, and Durpin Hill at the background, and a window at the back of my apartment faced east from where I could see Kafer right ahead, tirpai, 12th mile area at the east and Delo hill at the top and a bit farther, my long lost home. The view extended to seed farm, to be exact, it was a panoramic view of whole north east side of kalimpong.
Early morning walk around Haat Bazaar was my favorite, when all vendors, shop owners hustling bustling to set up their shop. The best part for me was hot plates of veg momo, a signature delicacy of our place, with sesame and dalley ko acchar. Gulping hot, lava like momo down the throat early in the morning was a bad habit of me that I never regret. True bliss! I would stroll around carrying small jhola with fresh organic vegetables from outskirts of town, that I used to get in discount rates and sometimes free.
I would hear their sounds long before the sun came up. First thing, I would hear, is a sound of Jharuwala (sweeperman), rubbing his jharu against a surface of scattered rubbish from the previous day. Haat bazaar didn't rested till 11-12 at night, so the jharuwalas had to sacrifice their sleep so early in the morning.
After jharuwalas duty, slowly, the sounds of arrival of shopkeeper and owners would make its way to my ears, flattering tirpal (plastic sheets to section or roof their stalls), people chatting and old 80s/90s music airing creating an authentic "Haat Ghar" (a sudo name for Haat Bazar) vibe. Many times I struggled sleeping in such restless environment but very soon I got used to it and the sounds never bothered, infact I started enjoying the live environment. Today, I truly believe Haat bazaar was a life itself.
Haat Bazaar is the place where I spent my last 3 years of my life in Kalimpong. I left Kalimpong in the month of July 2019. The rain had just stopped, I was sweating after numerous and down to shift my belongings to vehicle. My heart got heavy, it was time to bid farewell, not just to my apartment and the Haat bazaar, but to my home and everything that I lived with it.
Cold wind with rain drops blew through my face, taking me alongside, the vehicle drove against the cradling mists which were heading towards Delo for sure.
It was farewell to Kaleybung Sahar, my home.
I am here writing about it but my soul wanders in every streets and corners of kalimpong, dances with enchanted forest and the song of streams and files high up with the clouds. It walks around my home, caress the remnants of my favorite tree. It holds the hand of my childhood memories, running free it reaches the delo hill, gasping, sits on the green beach, under the propeller like thing, facing the Mountains. The silver snow shines through my my soul, and I lose everything in flash, all memories, all pain, and agony to be back home. I am nothing, not body, not even my mind.
All I could utter is one sentence;
"Dear Himalaya, I shall never drift away from you".
My soul rests there.
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