That has got to be the most appropriate tune of the day.

…i’m sitting here in the boring room
It’s just another rainy sunday afternoon
I’m wasting my time
I got nothing to do
I’m hanging around
I’m waiting for you
But nothing ever happens and i wonder…

Ahoy Fools Garden!! Three albums, Single hit.
Pity! Didn’t figure these guys to be ‘One Hit Wonder’ !

I know people go on vacation and come back with stories of how gorgeous their holiday spot was and how it had to simply be the most divine place on earth.. and frankly my vacation deprived self is sick and tired of hearing that repeatedly… so i’m not going to return the favour All i’m going to say is – Darjeeling is quite a treat. Just go if you can!!

Perched among the clouds at 2,134 meters above sea level, it hugs the crests and slopes of a long ridge. The town’s name is derived for Dorje Ling meaning ‘Abode Of The Thunderbolt’, which was the name of the shrine on its hill top. The town is a bustling beehive of color, culture, beauty and gaiety that is super refreshing. The people look at each other here in the eye .. they smile. If they see you around for the second time around, they say ‘hello’. They are simple and disconnected in the nicest way possible. In my few days there, i realized that there were perhaps a list of idiosyncracies only associated to this quaint little hilly town of Darjeeling, such as….

Only in Darjeeling, would people sit in the dense fog and watch an entire match witout knowing what the hell was going on, on the field.

Only in Darjeeling, do you walk through the town once and meet the same people ten times.

Only in Darjeeling, do the unemployed dress up better than the employed.

Only in Darjeeling, can you jump off a train, take a leak…. and then catch the same train again.

Only in Darjeeling, boys carry two love letters in their back pockets – one in Nepali and one in English.

Only in Darjeeling, a train gets caught in a traffic jam.

Only in Darjeeling, do doodhwallas sell milk with less fat than skim milk.

Only in Darjeeling, do the best dishes in any retaurant menu are undoubtendly always thukpa and momos.

Only in Darjeeling does the preetiest girl always elope with a driver.

Only in Darjeeling, would people go to sleep with a bottle of hot water for warmth in winter and wake up in the morning to brush their teeth with the same water.

..might sound funny, but its all true. Perhaps it is because it faces the trials and tribulations that any border lying country would face – a certain mixed sense of miscontrued identity and strong individuality, depending from person to person.
Don’t take my word for it though – here is an insightful belles-lettre justifying exactly this discourse from a Darjeeling mink i’ve come to know recently…

Ask me Again
by Kinara Moktan

“You don’t look like an Indian” – this rhetoric from every new person that I meet followed by a semi- confused look has been setting little ripples in my otherwise sublime “proud to be an Indian” existence outside the sub-continent.
My usual answer – “Everyone from my part of India looks like me; we are in the border of India and Nepal”
The second rhetoric – “Why are you not a Nepali again?”
At this point of time I usually change the topic a screeching 180 degrees.

Beautiful, over grown, small-minded, big- thinking, a town of little pleasures and humungous dreams….that’s where I am from, I am from Darjeeling. And all of us who know what we are talking about agree that there is no place on earth like it.
I reminiscence now and idyllic memories come my way. Darjeeling (said or thought in this instance with a little sigh), the place where I metaphorically scraped my knees and watched it heal till I could remove the scab painlessly. Where I opened my bedroom window to the mighty Kanchanjunga every morning and only noticed my neighbour hanging out his washing. Where bhola ko aloo and bari ko momo was the highlight of any given day, where the walks never tire you and the talks never end. I find it strange that a place that is so close to my heart has no place at all in the world’s mental map. The other day I found out those un-informed coffee drinkers don’t know about the existence of Darjeeling tea, I now dislike coffee drinkers with paranoid intensity.

“Big talk”, small talk, obsession, nonchalance…….that’s where I am from, Darjeeling, my town of unique contradictions. And all of us who know what we are talking about agree that contradiction is what makes us unique. Indian? Off course I am an Indian, I grew up singing jana gana mana every morning at school and worshipping the cricket icons from Kapil dev to Tendulkar together with the rest of India. Nepali? Off course I am Nepali; I know all the greatest Nepali poets and celebrate Bhanu Jayanti with a zest don’t I? Why do you ask whether I am Indian or Nepali? I am the best of both and a little bit more. I am from Darjeeling ain’t I?

Bhalo!! Bhalo!! Khoob Bhalo !!