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Glamor of the hills- Meghalaya

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The morning beams that penetrated through the gauzy curtains interrupted my dreams. It was late morning when I woke up. Although I was never a morning person, hectic job schedule and demand to maintain punctuality in office compelled me to dispose off my late-night routine.

And thus, weekends became my savior. I would sleep my heart out, keeping myself aloof from all the earthly pleasures. I would always ward-off the plans for joining someone for coffee, hanging out for parties or shopping, or mingling for a weekend getaway with friends with my lame excuses.

Likewise, it was another weekend of my life. I made a cup of hot chocolate, and augmented the tempo of my newly bought JBL Bluetooth speakers. Life would have been such a comfortable bed without any responsibilities, I wondered, trying to warble the Spanish lyrics of Despacito.

The phone’s beep depressed the sound of the song.

“Pack your bags; we are leaving at 6 pm,” Prasanta texted.

And before could I write my excuse text, he interrupted with another one.

“Don’t take it as a request. Because I am not going to listen to any of your post- menstrual mood flicks. Get ready; I am coming to pick you in an hour. Biswajit and Sarvanu will join us too.”

It was around 6.30 in the evening when we headed to, well, we did not have a map to Cherrapunjee or Dawki, so Meghalaya would be precise.

Meghalaya, as they say, is all about floating in abode of clouds. As we waved goodbye to Guwahati, a dark night, stirred with a blanket of mist and grey glimpses enveloped us in no time. Although I had been to this peppy paradise before, the experiences are vastly different on each call. Remarkably, every time I pick a trip to this paradise, I grab a story along with me.

It was late November. The roads were inundated with fog. Visibility of the surrounding dimmed with each rotation of the car’s tires. A little later we realized how terribly the clouds had convoluted us.

Prasanta uttered, “When confusion strikes, go left!” Unable to decide which way to take, we decided to pick the road less traveled.

Prasanta, deciding which way to take.

It was late midnight, around 2 o’ clock. Subsequently, we got the picture of a grey blanket of fog that had covered us, completely. Even the white divider line that we were following, became indiscernible.

The fog became denser with each passing moment. After much contemplation, we grasped that there was no way to surpass the thick mantle as one could barely see the other person or object standing near them.

Biswajit stopped the car. Everyone got down. It was a No Human Land where the hills came alive with its giant spells.

The sight of an indistinct light at a distant, landed us to an eerie-looking house at the cliff of a majestic hill. Being an ardent fan of horror movies, stroked me to envisage how the house carried every trait of an eerie scene. Dimmed lights, indistinct chirps of birds, drops of water tripping at a vessel from the roof, four torn-out couches at the veranda, a dog loitering around and sniffing, reminded me of psycho killers of the Wrong Turn movies.

Anxiety started knocking us, brutally. Before long could we wait for any of us to get hit with a panic attack, we rushed to our car. Although it was difficult and risky to drive with such hazy visuals, nevertheless, Biswajit decided to take the risk as it was a better option than getting our heads chopped and bodies minced.

After driving for nearly three hours, we saw some lodges, lights, and heard voices of people working. That was a huge heave of sigh for all. Biswajit halted the car and we decided to rest our weary eyes for some time.

I woke up at Sarvanu’s boisterous voice, “Yaay! We are finally in Dawki.”

It was an absolute respite for all. While Biswajit and Prasanta yearned for few minutes of rest, Sarvanu decided to get tea for us.

Morning tea at Dawki

The latter part of the day followed with a series of amusing adventures, capturing breathtaking views, gobbling with traditional delicacies and street food, and more. This was one of my wildest adventurous trip that snarled in my memoir cozily, until date.

Below are some of the snaps from the rest of our journey.

Dawki

Meghalaya Dawki

Meghalaya Dawki

Dawki meghalaya

Meghalaya Dawki

Meghalaya Dawki

Meghalaya Dawki

Editor’s call: Do you have an adventurous story to tell? Write to us at [email protected].

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