Having lived in Midnapore for no less than half a dozen blissful years, it was time to shift to Siliguri, to the north of Bengal.

 

Siliguri meant frequent trips to nearby Darjeeling, the beautiful hill station of Gorkhland (that’s what the Gorkhas prefer to call that region). Darjeeling offered a breathtaking view of the Kanchenjunga, the world’s second highest peak One trip was particularly memorable with me enjoying numerous rides on a hired horse (with the horse-keeper around to guide the horse, of course).

 

Apart from Darjeeling, there were numerous lesser-known hill stations that were worth visiting nonetheless. Foremost among them, of course, was Kalimpong.

 

It wasn’t just hill-stations that we visited though. Where there’s forest rest-house, there’s a place to visit- that, basically, was our motto!

 

The names of the places (of visit) were as queer as though they might have been taken straight out of a children’s book. For starters, consider Madarihat. If that’s not bad enough, how about Gorumara? (Goru, in Bangla, means cow!) Surely, Diljala should make you see the point I am trying to make. And if that wasn’t the last straw, we also have Mathabhanga (which translated to Broken Head in Bangla).

 

I hope you are not starting to wonder if touring is all what I did living in Siliguri.

 

My association with Don Bosco institutions started in Siliguri itself. (I, later, joined Don Bosco, Park Circus, Kolkata when dad got his final posting in Kolkata in 1990). I recall Father T. Albert, the principal of Don Bosco School (Siliguri), as an efficient administrator. 

 

My class teacher of class 3, Mr. Glashan, was particularly fond of me. Almost everyday, after school, he made it a point to share some joke with me.

 

Shifting from Siliguri (to Calcutta) marked the end of non-metropolitan life for me. Though 1986-1990 was only a four-year span, being part of my formative years, it was a significant one for me.