An Old Love Story in the Dow Hill Forest of Kurseong, Darjeeling
The story
begins about 23 years ago, when I started my life as a student in Kurseong. I
was a student in one of the numerous schools in Kurseong. Kurseong is a
beautiful place, in the hill district of Darjeeling. Kurseong was famous for
its school. And students from distant places came to study there. Bangladeshi
and Nepali students came in large numbers.
And my girl,
Udita, studied in Dow Hill School, one of the best schools in Kurseong. The Dow
Hill School, is situated in the forest region near the summit of the hill in
Kurseong. Dow Hill, and Victoria Boys School are the twin government schools.
There are 45 seats in each class in Dow hill School. From class 1 to class 3,
both boys and girls study there. After class 3, it is a purely girls school.
The boys are shifted to Victoria Boys School. In LKG, the students are selected
on the basis of lottery. The cost of living was very less (during my time),
being a government school. On the same road near it, is Glen Hill School and
Kurseong School.
Dow Hill is
a beautiful place with lush green vegetation. The pine trees are straight and
tall, standing like a magnificent guard, guarding the secrets of the hilly
forest. Dow Hill is mysterious, as it is beautiful. And the weather is dismal.
There is excessive peace and quietness that makes it frightening. It is very
cold out there in the winter. And surviving the cold is difficult. So students
are given a long winter holiday. The natives loves doing nothing. Rather the
hill people were busy with themselves and their own life.
Dow Hill
School was a bit far (about 8 km) from my school. As kids, we used to hear ghost stories of the Dow Hill School and were terribly scared. Little did
we know those stories could have been concocted by some devilish mind to scare
young children away from private places! We needed privacy even to kiss that
time. I loved the Dow Hill School. We all loved those pretty girls who spoke so
eloquently like some charming princess dictating order. During one of the
elocution inter-school competitions, I met a beautiful girl. Well others called
her beautiful, for then puberty hadn’t hit me, and girls meant more of a nuisance
to me, then.
It was an inter-school
elocution contest. When I saw her first. She recited a beautiful poem, about
some dad, the poetess was proud of. All I can recollect is her dad mended all
the holes on the road. He was her hero. We all cheered, as she said with such
expression like it was her own dad!
It was
unusual that I loved her. The beautiful girl with some Mongoloid feature. She
understood me from my eyes. Girls can read behaviour better. She knew I loved
her. I had the courage to slip a paper with my name, class and school phone
number into her hand, after we had dined together. And she had smiled at me!
She did call
me, during one of her outings to the town. We didn’t have a mobile phone, then.
But we could call on the landline number from a PCO. And that was the best part
of it. It was usually Sunday when we would call each other; and when I called,
I would tell the guard, that her brother wanted to talk to her. It was really
strange that we found our own ways of excuse to communicate with each other.
It was 14
years and 5 months exact down the lane when I returned back to pay homage to my
old school. I had frequent dreams of my school. The weird part was that, I
would return and study again. It looked I hadn’t left my school. Something was
wrong, and my old school was calling me back. I used to frequently dream of Udita.
She was in my dreams, she was in my blood. Udita, my sweetheart! The life I had
spent there, was simply wonderful!
I wept when I saw my old school and one of my
old teacher. I hugged my teacher, and then touched his feet. It was a moment
that I couldn’t express wholly.
Kurseong
hadn’t much changed. I was there, and the memories were still there. 14 years
had passed. But it looked like I had been gone just 14 days ago. I miss you
Kurseong. You breathed the soul into my life. The leaves of the pine trees are
still as green. And sometimes, on a clear morning or evening, the Kanchenjunga
is visible. Kurseong you are a dear. It was a land of Gurkhas. It was a land of
white orchids. It will forever be. Kurseong, is so lonely. Even in the month of
August, it gets dark after 6:30 p.m. Half of the shops are closed by 7:30 p.m.
and almost 90 percent are closed by 8:00 p.m. By 9:00 p.m. the town seems
deserted and anyone walking on the street would be more of a spectre than
human.
Having seen
everything of my old school, I went back to where I was staying. Something
called in me to go to Dow Hill. That was my old haunt, with my love. Dow Hill
was the place for my repose. Dow Hill was my heart and soul. Dow Hill was in my
blood and dreams.
It was
drizzling when I set for Dow hill. Surprisingly, the weather had been fine all
day. But when I set for the old school, the weather changed abruptly. The
weather is quite unpredictable in these area. One moment there is sunshine and
everything is clear. You can view the distant mountain. The next moment, a
dense fog comes gushing out of nowhere and you can see hardly anything beyond
10 feet distance. And that makes a whole lot of thing confusing. Especially,
for those who trek out in the mountains. The forest is so creepy and silent
that it sends a chill down your spine, especially when you are alone. And many
a times, people would get lost and be found dead in the forest.
I loved my
own company, and frequently travelled alone. Though it is quite difficult for
me to sleep well at night in a hotel. I am especially afraid of ghosts in some
specific hotel room. And my wild author imagination also plays some wild tricks
on me. So, during the day I do lot of exertion to get myself tired and some
sleep. I have anxiety disorder for some reason.
Before I
went to Dow Hill School, I had to go to Victoria Boys’ school. I had given an exam
and I wanted to see the results. Something was odd about the exam. I had waited
for the result for 22 years. And I wanted to talk about my results. Victoria
Boys School was covered in fog. It was misty, and I clicked some pictures of
the school and classroom. It looked lifeless. The national anthem was being
played in some distance. But I didn’t stop. It was queer place. It was as if
life had been sucked from the place. Now the school looked small, and lacked
the spirit of education, power and charm.
There had
been agitation. Frequent strikes broke the back bone of Kurseong. While below
in the plains, Siliguri developed massively. Kurseong had its setback. The 105 days
of strike killed the trade and commerce of the town. I felt the pain of my old
town. There had been no development since the last 14 years and 5 months I had
left. It was 19th March 2004, I had left Kurseong after giving my
matriculation exam and it was 18th August 2018, I was at Kurseong
after such a long time, I couldn’t see a fragment of change. Like all my memories
had been kept carefully; when I would return, I would see them preserved as a
specimen!
During the
agitation, the junior section of Dow Hill School was burnt. The fire was
supposed to have broken out accidently as the students were on leave during the
winter vacation. Some however pointed out, it may have been deliberately been
set by the agitators and some who believed in the headless ghost story of the
Dow Hill forest said it must have been a work of the ghosts.
Whatever it
was, I decided to walk all around Kurseong, and finally to the Dow Hill, my
favourite haunt. But as it was drizzling, so I decided to book a cab to go to
Dow Hill. The forest was wide, dark and deep. It was foggy, and I couldn’t much
observe the distant picturesque. However I managed to click some nice pictures
of the Dow hill school on my cell phone. Now it was turn for me to go into the
forest. It was alluring me, but it was frightening too. I had heard of the
ghost stories of the haunted forest.
There were
weird ghost stories about it. Some headless ghost roaming the forest in the
quest for his love. Maybe someone had betrayed him, and severed his head. And
the poor ghost was since then in search for his lost head. Many were killed if
they crossed his path. Some even went in the quest for finding the ghost only
to be disappointed in their search or life. During the holidays, people could
hear the laughter of children at night in the school. Some said there was the
spirit of a headless child roaming in the school.
I went into
the forest, hoping to click some beautiful images. And a feeling of nostalgia
struck me. Those were my favourite haunts. I was here with my love. She
couldn’t leave me alone. Nope. I remembered the poem she had recited during the
elocution.
The forest
was growing misty. And my sight began to dim. And suddenly, the scene whirled
before my eyes. I was back into my old times. There were lot of boys and girls
in the hall. The inter-school elocution contest was going on. And she was on
stage, saying the poem aloud, in perfect rhythm. And I stood listening in awe,
staring at her beautiful face. She was the loveliest creature God had ever
made. She emanated love and only love. I didn’t know, but what I did next was
an embarrassment for my school. I went up to her and stood on my knees. I
proposed her. Her face was flushed. She was unable to say anything for some
moments. But when she spoke, it was what sounded music to my ears. She accepted, and the whole hall clapped.
We went hand
in hand together. A perfect love story, that hadn’t happened. But it was
happening now. The Universe had conspired to make our love story true. The
forest played everything of the scene perfectly. I was completely lost in my
own world. I didn’t know where I was going. Memories and emotions were too
strong, that my conscious level was blocked. I was controlled by some invisible
power that would quench my old lost love.
And then, I
saw her. Yes, she looked the same. She was beautiful as ever, the first time I
had seen her. It would be the best thing in my life to be united to her. I went
towards her. And there, I was awakened from my half-conscious self. She was
calling me not to move ahead. The scene before my eyes had disappeared. I was
standing at the edge of a cliff. Maybe if she wouldn’t have called, I would
have fallen over the cliff in my dreamy state and would have been lost forever.
I had a
choice. The melancholy of loneliness lingered in me. Here I was alone. All my
friends gone, my love gone, though the surrounding stayed the same. That added
to my sorrow of bereavement. I looked at the vast wilderness of the mountain
vale that stretched before me. Rain drops were gently falling on my head, and I
wanted to end my loneliness. I could jump off the cliff and end my life. I
would be a part of the soul that had nourished me. Or I would walk back and
create a new destiny for me…
It was
difficult for me to decide. So many schools, so many of my contemporaries, all
gone in a puff of smoke. The students had been life of Kurseong. Now the buzz
of the mountains were gone. Kurseong was lonely and sad. Just like me. I sat on
a rock and wept. I don’t know, why I live. But there will be a new future, even
though the history will stay the same. There will be many who will see the
pictures and say, they studied in Kurseong, and lived during those happy times
I lived.
A promised
love that could never be realised. Now I feel the pain. I had gone my way, and
she went hers. We never contacted. People would say it was calf love. But
there, that moment, I realised my love for her. I could never love any other
human being, as much I did love her. Should I die, and end all my sufferings?
You were
sweet when you smiled. You were lovely, when I saw you. You were my life. What
wrong did I do, that you disappeared from my life?
“You need someone to love you dearly,
that will save you from killing yourself. Find a girl, for I don’t want you to accompany
me to my grave!” she said.
I thought of
my present woman friends; I had spent a lot of time with them. Maybe someone
would love me dearly, to say they would make me their own. Can people kill
their own memories? We try to forget by replacing some old memories with new
memories. The emotion that had excited us in the beginning, we try to seek the
same; something that will give a similar kick to our mind.
Do I live?
Should I live? I should have a reason to exist. Love. Someone’s love that ought
to be more powerful, to give me some hope, a reason to live in this world.
Maybe a snowy girl, or a shadowy girl or some rainy girl could help. The woods
are lovely dark and deep, and I have forgotten all my promises to survive. Let
me die embracing you my love.
It was an
accident that she had died. I didn’t kill her. She fell down and died, because
of me. I didn’t do it deliberately. Ever since I had nightmares. The school was
calling me back. It seemed, I hadn’t completed my education. It was her spirit
that wanted me. I knew, and asked her my forgiveness. I was a coward, I wanted
to die so many times. But something stopped me. Maybe the thought of my
parents, or her eyes, asking me to live on, for her sake. I was guilty, and the
inner me was burdened with her death.
I walked up
the steep hill. There was her grave, in the clearing. It was overgrown with
bushes and moss. Did I need to lie beside her?
There she
was dead, and lying alone among the dead. Why should I live alone and leave
her? No, my Udita couldn’t die. She was in my blood. She was in my breath. She
was in my soul…
I had called
her by the graveyard. She was buried there. And I never cared. I thought, she
had betrayed me by dying alone. She never received my call. And that is how we
parted. Without a good bye, without any knowing where the other was!
It was
raining hard. And I was wet. I went into the wild woods collecting flowers. And
when I had made a bunch, I kept them at her grave.
I can feel
her spirit hoovering over me. I am lost in the woods. The fog has descended,
and it is already dark. There is no network in my mobile. Now as I record this
on my mobile, and put it for uploading… maybe I will be found unconscious or
dead, by the villagers…but the story I hope will find its way into the world…
Picture: View of Kurseong town from near the railway station. [TV tower and Eagle Craig]
Picture: Sunshine School on way up to Eagle Craig
Picture: Ram Krishna HS School for Girls Near TV tower
Picture: A view of the Eagle Craig
Picture: The mountains and vales with tea garden, seen from the Eagle Craig.
Picture: The sunrise view from Tiger Hill, Darjeeling (not relevant to the story)
Picture: You can read that for yourself
Picture: The famous toy train of Darjeeling at Batasia Loop.
Picture: A close view of the still running steam engine, Darjeeling.
Picture: A view below the roadside, near Kurseong. It's covered with fog.
Picture: View of the evening sky in Kurseong. Note the time and date. It gets dark early.
Picture: Victoria Boys School, Kurseong. The boys were going to their class after morning assembly.
Picture: The Dow Hill School, resting quietly. The junior section is missing.
Picture: Playground of Dow Hill School. Note the date and time, and weather.
Picture: The Forest near Dow Hill School
Picture: Tall pine trees near Dow Hill School in the Dow Hill forest.
Picture: Dow Hill School from outside.
Picture: Glenhill Public School, on the road to Dow Hill School
Picture: Kurseong College, on the road to the Dow Hill School.
Picture: Kurseong Railway Station
Picture: An August morning in Kurseong market.
Picture: A graveyard in Kurseong. This is on Pankhabari road.
Picture: The Belle Vue Boarding Shool, in Pankhabari road, Kurseong.
An Old Love Story in the Dow Hill Forest of Kurseong, Darjeeling
Reviewed by Polymath
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