Cherrapunji-The Abode of Love

The truant cloud broke away from a large lump of fluffy mass that seemed to have got stuck in the centre of the large cavernous hollow of a ravine. Probably it was tired of nestling amongst the green thicket of trees and longed for some human company. As it floated leisurely upwards, I noticed it changing its colour-from a dull grey to shades of white that grew more brilliant as it came out of the shadows inside the ravine into the pale sunlight.

“Welcome to Meghalaya-our humble abode”, said the cloud as it came to rest within inches of my nose.

Christopher Marlow’s poem seemed to keep coming back again and again as we left the crowded city centre of Shillong and started our journey towards Cherrapunji-the place that had the reputation, till recently, of being the world’s wettest place!

Shillong, like any other hill station has become congested over the years. So much so that the main centre of the town (Police bazaar area) looks like one big mass of concrete in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Once out of the city centre however, the hills and the valleys seem to present itself in all its regalia. The gently sloping hills clothed in forests of pine makes one feel like going for long walks and losing oneself in the forests! Shillong reveals itself in all its splendour only to those who reach the view-point. As one looks beyond the dense mass of pine trees bordering this spot of flat land atop a hill, one is aware of a bustling town that spreads itself and fills all the area available at the foot of the hills.

But coming back to Cherrapunji once again! The local people call this place as Sohra, something that reminded me of “Sehra”- the crown on the head. Indeed Cherrapunji is like the crown that sits atop the head of Shillong!

By virtue of being on the edge of a plateau and the place with abundant rainfall, Cherrapunji is the land of waterfalls. Standing at the edge of the cliff, one is mesmerised by the beauty all around. The cliff faces are like a rigid vertical wall that gradually tapers down into the marshy wastelands of Sylhet in Bangladesh. Looking down one gets the impression that one is standing over the rim of a giant cauldron and staring into its belly-a belly that is lush green with foliage. It is into this giant green cauldron that the numerous waterfalls plunge, leaving a streak of white that breaks the monotony of the green. The effect is breathtaking, one that cannot be described. No sound, just watching the foamy frothy streak of white cascading its way down filled one with a sense of awe! There is however, a catch to all this. By virtue of having very high rainfall, the breathtaking beauty, on many occasions, is hidden behind a veil of clouds. These clouds get trapped inside the cauldron like ravine not allowing visitors to have a glimpse of the magnificent water-falls cascading down. If you are lucky, the clouds will part, just like it did for us, floating out of the hollow and allowing visitors the opportunity to gape and marvel at the seven streams of foaming rapid plunging into the depths below.

I know why the following lines from Cristopher Marlowe’s poem kept repeating itself inside my head all throughout the trip.

“Come live with me and be my love

And we will all the pleasures prove.

That hills and valleys, dales and fields

And woods or steepy mountain yields!”

The poem is about love. Amidst the lush green mountains of Cherrapunji, I fell in love with everything that I saw around me!