One long night of talks behind closed doors! | Milaap

One long night of talks behind closed doors!

The long walk from Samsing to Rocky Island was unusual in the sense that although it was a combination of pitch road and forest areas, it was impeccably clean right until we entered the mouth of Rocky Island. Like any other place magnified with the infiltration of tourists, the greenery slowly vanished with our trademark of plastics, wrappers and forceful waste. Sitting on the high rocks for a while, sipping my cup of red tea, I slowly moved forwards Suntelekhola for a rather peaceful stay. What could be better than pitching my tent and resting for the night right under the sky, chatting with the stars?

 A Glimpse of Samsing

Off I go taking an unknown path

Well, little did I know that something much more beautiful was on the way. By the time I got halfway, I saw an amazing route deviating towards the right. The mere sounds of the tree leaves and the wind pulled me right towards it. Off I was into this unknown path, which by now I realized was my common trait. By the time I reached the last village of Suntelekhola, much higher than the “khola” itself, the sun was covering itself with a thick blanket of clouds. Finding only a tiny house I went inside to ask permission for setting up a tent on the adjacent piece of land. Out came a tiny guy of about 8 and apologized for his parents’ absence. The look on his face almost had remorse that he was unable to help me out. As I walked out of his terrain he ran up and pulled my pants to take me to another house that might be of help. It was there I learned that there was a death in the village and all the elderly people went to pay their respect and condolences.

My first interaction of a household

A bunch of 8 children walked me down to a plain land and there I set up my tent. They all joined me in pitching my tent and over a small span of 12 minutes, they all became my friends, few braiding my short hair. While I was running around like a young fawn, the sky joined in with its weep of happy tears and I bid farewell to my friends.

The bunch of kids
 My home and helping hands!

It was not more than 30 mins when I saw a tiny beam of light marching towards my tent. A knock made me unzip the tent and there was Niha with her little brother. They came to pick me up from there and take me to their homes. They called their parents using some older guy’s phone and told their parents about me. Apparently, they were scared that the heavy rain will wash me down with it. Failing to have argued with them and of course, shivering with the chill, I took my essentials, placed few big stones so that my tent doesn’t turn into a scary kite at night, I walked towards their home.

The small duplex

So many stories were shared over the next few hours that i can hardly remember them. What I do remember is how we huddled in the duplex and lit those ancient iron fire lamps to warm ourselves. After a while of conversation as I looked around I realized two of the older girls were missing. They went into the kitchen to cook dinner for their guest and their siblings. As I walked down to the kitchen I could hear some typical Nepali songs being hummed. Niha was lighting the firewood while Diha was cutting vegetables. Mere students of classes 8 and 6 and they knew what their chores were. The look on their golden faces was of happiness, or perhaps the routine made them show so. I joined in to cook some meal and it was one of the most satisfactory dinners I consumed. Just before hitting the bed, the guardians of the house arrived and I was scared that they might scold the children.

Late night hovering

Niha, the cook, the caretaker!

Mouthwatering and sizzling hot dinner

Surprisingly, they marched up and we bonded pretty well extending the night for another couple of hours. So much can happen over a few cups of late night tea! Tears of losing loved ones, the laughter of children’s mischief and peace of having found a good person in this rush of unknown faces. I woke up to the sunlight piercing through my shut eyes and there was Niha with a warm up of tea, no milk, no sugar, she remembered. Sipping tea I had to stand up and convince her that I had to move ahead to another village. Rakesh, the younger one, made up a story that due to the heavy rain I would fall a thousand times, hence I should stay. Such an immense amount of love for one strange woman lingering around their land!

As Niha ran up to say be Goodbye

Niha, Rakesh and their mother

As I bid farewell to this lovely family, my eye witness one of the most loving scenes of my life. Niha was scolding her father, as she dyed his hair, on the bad haircut he had got. Just like a mother, complaining about his subtle choices and then carefully rubbing the excess dye off his ear. I said no more, with a smile of my face I paraded ahead to my next destination wondering what amazing encounters would that bring ahead.

Beyond description!