“Summer kisses winter tears”, and we, four, responded the summon of the mountain. We four, myself, and my friends cum colleagues, Pradip, Swapan, and Pradip’s neighbor, a senior person, a gazette officer always wearing a mask of gravity of his position, set out for our very familiar and famous Sandakphu and Phalut route. April didn’t be full us, rather we were overwhelmed with ecstasy in the abundance of nature’s gift for what trekkers around the world gather here every year. Upto Sandakphu, it was a tailor – made journey.

But the surprise was hidden for us beyond that. We reached Sandakphu on the scheduled day of our itinerary and after a shivering night the dawn appeared to unveil the face of the great “Sleeping Budda” with the magic of colour. We stood purpled in the blowing wind to witness the magic of nature and felt as if lost in the vastness of the universe. After being rejuvenated in the warmth of the kitchen and perpetual service of tea we got our nerve back to normal.

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After a heavy breakfast, we set out around eight in the morning. It was a very cool but pleasant weather all around. Today’s is the longest march from Sandakphu to Fhalut about twenty-one kilometers. But the trail was almost flat at an altitude of 11000 feet above sea level. After a continuous march of four hours, I found two young foreigners resting before the ruins of a burnt forest bungalow. When I reached, I was cordially greeted by them. I unleashed my rucksack and sat beside them. I could hardly recognise the place, until they confirmed that it was Sabarkum, where once upon a time there was a forest rest house which was set to fire by the followers of Subhash Ghissing as a part of their agitation. Soon we became friends. The young man coming from Holland was a florist and the other one was a young lady of Canada came presently came from Bangladesh on her way back to home. She was a student on her research work, came to Bangladesh for 6 months on a project to train the fisherman there about modern technique of fishing and breeding culture.

I observed that they were concentrating on a voluminous book. When asked they laid out the book towards me and told that they were planning to have a break there and they would put up in a trekker nearby which they found in the book and the name of the place was Moley. I was surprised at the information because before commencement of our journey I gathered latest information of the route from the office of Tourism Department, Government of West Bengal at Dalhousie Square Kolkata. Off course I didn’t find any information of either forest Bunglow or trekkers hut in their information brochure. I took the book and found in the marked page a notation of a forest bungalow and detailed information of the location which was just a furlong away from our resting place. I observed that it is a travel guide of India published by ” Lonely Planet “. The Dutchman came to India with it, with an eye to roaming the land for six months. I was not only surprised, but also ashamed of my ignorance about my own land. The “lonely planet” opened another world before me which was situated very near to me but far away from my knowledge.

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Instantly I made up my mind to break the journey and rest at Moley because my companions were far behind, and they must be fatigued when they would come. I told them likewise and they also greeted me to rejoin them at Moley. We shook hand and they approached for Moley. After a while, when my friend appeared at my resting place with leaden feet dragging the fatigued bodies and loads on their back, they got a bit surprised seeing me sitting alone in that desolate place in front of the ruined bungalow. But soon they got rejuvenated when they heard me calling it a day and we would rest at Moley forest bungalow, our new destination of the day. After a little rest we all started for Moley and in fifteen minutes’ walk downhill when we reached the forest rest house, I thank almighty for introducing me with “Lonely Planet”.

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