Dooars in Rain - 1

                                                            **Dooars in the Rain**

About 27 of my schoolmates, mostly just-become senior citizens or those nearing the golden age, have joined our virtual group over the last three years. Though we’ve had a few meet-ups, attendance has never exceeded fifteen.

This year, almost everyone agreed on a trip. The destination had to be exotic—if not, the timing should make it extraordinary, like Darjeeling in deep winter, Tree house somewhere in the jungle, Rajasthan in peak summer, or Cherrapunji during the monsoon. Before finalizing the date and place, I gauged interest, and sadly, only six were keen.

With the monsoon already here, Debanu and I decided on Dooars, where the incessant rain transforms the region into a magical place. Our plan was to travel in comfort, stay at a good resort for a couple of days, enjoy the rain in the hills and jungles, relax with some drinks, and return refreshed. However, when it came time to book tickets, only four were actually ready to go!

On the morning of July 26th, we boarded the Vande Bharat train from Howrah at 5:55 AM. Thanks to Debanu’s car, we comfortably packed and reached the station just in time, avoiding any stress. A kind lady in the EC coach greeted us with a rose, and we settled into our seats.

As the train started, so did the rain, which stayed with us throughout the journey. The stations—Liluah, Bali, Belur—whizzed by in the drowsy, rainy morning. It stopped briefly at Uttarpara, where 37 years ago, I began my career at Hindustan Motors. Even then, the company was struggling, but that short three-month stint gave me invaluable experience for future interviews. The sprawling dilapidated Hindmotor campus was barely visible through the rain as the train moved on.

Morning tea and newspapers arrived, and Debanu turned our seats toward the windows. As we sipped tea and coffee, stations like Pulsit and Galsi passed, and soon we reached our first stop—Burdwan. 

During breakfast, Kuntal announced he’d opt for a vegetarian lunch, followed by Debanu—surprising since I had booked us all as non-vegetarian, never imagining the usually mischievous duo could go veg! Luckily, the kind-hearted stewardess managed to arrange two vegetarian meals for us. Kuntal joked that Debanu’s killing look did the trick!

We arrived at Farakka Road station, where the scorching heat during a brief respite from the rain reminded us of global warming. The towering chimneys of Farakka brought back memories of my NTPC days—I was last there in 2020 for an audit. 

Our fourth friend, Pijush, though less extroverted, has a knack for making us laugh with his witty comments. We’ve known each other since school, but it’s only now, in the later stages of life, that we’re truly rediscovering one another.

Precisely at 1:30 PM, we reached NJP station. Unlike my college days 41 years ago, the new NJP station is now neat and clean. The new railway canteen on Platform 1 is spacious and offers a variety of food.

We needed to book a cab to our next destination—Green Island Resort, Jhalong. The area outside the station was chaotic due to ongoing renovations. Big boy Debanu, familiar with the place from his business trips, naturally took charge. The touts, tour agents, and cab brokers outnumbered the available cabs, and their prices were steep and unreasonable for the 100 km journey. One broker almost got into a fisticuff with Debanu when he tried to haggle.

Finally, we found a pre-paid booking counter in an inconspicuous corner of the road. Thanks to a traffic guard, we secured a good SUV cab at a fair price. Though NJP station is called the “Gateway to  the North-East,” its facilities could make it the “Gateway to Hell.” The authorities should really look into this.

And the cab started it’s onward journey to the heartland of Dooars…

To be continued...