Deoghar On Motorcycle

Somewhere near Jamtara

Today is Monday 14th March, 2022. I am just back from a motorcycling trip to Deoghar. I went alone, taking advantage of the weekend when Monisha and Mampu went to Delhi for Mampu to join her university. 

The trip happened without any major incident worth writing about. But it's worth keeping a record of the experience for posterity or for others who might be interested to go there. 

I have been to Deoghar several times by road (either by bus or in my car). Every time I took the same route - via Bolpur, Suri, Massanjore and Dumka. This time also I went up the same route but took smaller variations within the overall route. And I came back via a totally different route, which is via Jamtara, Mihijam (Chittaranjan), Asansol and then the usual straight 4-lane highway. This used to be the old traditional route to go to Deoghar by road which I had never taken so far. 

The decision to experiment with the routes had mixed results that I will describe here.

On Saturday I started from the house at around 7:40 am. This is a little later than my usual time to start a long self-drive journey. But then I was alone at home and I was not feeling 100 per cent confident to go. I made my own breakfast of a pair of sunny side up which turned out to be perfect. Then finally, after some mental tug of war, I picked up the courage and went out. I have never gone so far in life with my motorcycle. My farthest till then was Santiniketan and Katwa a few times. Although I once did an up and down day trip to Santiniketan on the same day I do not think much of those rides. 

For the journey I chose to wear a pair of corduroy pants and a full sleeve corduroy shirt. This was to protect the body from the sun and dust. And the corduroy trousers is very comfortable for me. I carried very little stuff for the trip. Just enough to fill in my small red Deuter bag. And I took my waist pouch also. These were all kept ready the previous night.

Had breakfast at Shaktigarh with an omelette on toast for Rs 40. This is available in the small carts next to the lengcha shops. After Burdwan I took the Guskara/Bhedia road. When I first took this road with Chenku it used to be a dirt road with a fair weather bridge over Ajay. Now it's a proper asphalt road. 

At Kayrapur, which is after the level crossing, I stopped for the delightful ledikenis from a shop that I have eaten from before. Truth be told, one after the other I finished 5 of them for Rs 25. The shopkeeper was very keen that I taste his rosogollas but I promised that I would take them on my return trip. 

I was in two minds about the route to take from Bolpur to Suri. Via Ilambazaar or via Sriniketan? While the one via Ilambazaar was a little detour it's a wide road. The one through Sriniketan, albeit shorter, is narrow with innumerable bumps and goes through tight villages. 

The Kayrapur shop keeper told me I should take the Ilambazaar route and instead of going to Bolpur and turn left I should turn left from Guskara and come out at 11 Mile and then turn right towards Ilambazaar. 

This turned out to be a totally wrong advice. Basically he (and there was another old man eating kochuris who shared the same opinion in a very knowledgeable way) knows nothing about roads to take when one is self driving. They also do not have geographical idea of where exactly these places are relative to each other. I don't think they have ever seen a road map of the area. Their knowledge is based on bus rides and hearsay. This old man said Suri was closer via Ilambazaar than via Sriniketan, which is geographically totally wrong.

I had thought I would take the left turn after Ajay bridge and reach Ilambazaar through the forest after Kamarpara where Suvomoy has the house or Bana Lakshmi etc. The Guskara route appealed to me because it would be something new to explore. 

This was a major mistake. The road is in terrible shape. It crosses the very crowded Guskara station and the level crossing was down, leading to a mile long queue of vehicles perhaps. Next comes Aushgram, whose name I had heard several times before but never been through that area. The road goes through patches of beautiful sal forests but speed was very very slow due to the pathetic state of the road. Going via Kamarpara wouldn't have saved me on distance perhaps but the better surface of the road would've meant quicker journey time and I wouldn't feel so tired. 

The route from Guskara to Massanjore via 11 Mile, Siuri, Amjora Bridge

Anyway, I am fine with such experiments that do not always go right in life. We learn a lot of things through these failed experiments. No experiment in that sense is a failure.  

After 11 Mile the old ADB Road is still in fine shape. One by one I crossed Ilambazaar and Dubrajpur and was heading towards Suri. Here I started feeling a little sleepy. The road is flat and featureless. But when one is on a motorcycle there is no way one could take a short nap unless one found a shady large tree. I found no such thing. Stopped for a while. Drank water and then restarted. The sleepy feeling didn't go for a long time. I was thinking about the various dreadful accidents I know of that happened because the rider/driver had dozed off.

Presently I entered Suri. One has to cross a level crossing here. Some distance after that one turns left towards Massanjore. I remember the landmark for this turn as a building that had a huge football on its roof top. One could see it from a long distance. I asked an e-rickshaw driver about the route to Massanjore, that is, from where to turn left. He said why not take this new route via Amjora bridge? There is this new bridge over Mayurakshi and it cuts the distance substantially. I asked him is the road good? He said yes. The traditional route, he said, is at least 10 Km more.

I thought I would trust him and took this new route. In the excitement my sleepiness went away. It turned out to be a fine road. Desolate and narrow but that's fine. Finally the Amjora bridge came. It indeed is a spanking new bridge over the beautiful Mayurakshi. On the other side is Ranishwar which is on the old road that I wanted to take initially. I stopped here for buying water. Next came the beautiful Massanjore dam. 

One could enjoy the lake and its beautiful surroundings with hills and forests all the more because the road was absolutely billiard top. I wish I had taken a video of this road but I was getting slightly worried because it was getting late. I think it was already well past 2 pm. I spotted a "Mayurakshi Resort" here in White and Blue indicating it is possibly owned by the West Bengal government (google says no it is not). Have to explore it.

The road from Massanjore to Dumka is very nice through a forest and gentle undulations, as is the feature of roads in Chhotonagpur Plateau. I was very pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of Dumka town when I entered it at around 3 pm. I remember a few very busy crossings from my previous drives through the town but this time Dumka presented herself as a beautiful little town with clean roads and no jam. Perhaps it has some dynamic District Magistrate eager to change things.

At Dumka

I stopped for a tea at a road side stall. It was a such a nice cup of tea, served in an earthen cup with a coarse texture which is a specialty of this area (possibly because of the high sand content in their local soil as opposed to our smooth soil of Bengal) that I took one more cup. 

Now I am on the last leg of my journey. Next stop is Deoghar via Basukinath. This turned out to be the worst road of the entire journey. It just does not exist. I mean the road. Just big loose stone chips on grey dust. And since it's a busy road the other vehicles in front are raising a huge cloud of dust through which one has to go. Thankfully from Basukinath the road improved and I reached Deoghar Tower at 5:44. Sunset was at 5:47 as per my new watch.

I could not recognise the Deoghar I entered. I had to ask the route to the Tower several times. This is unthinkable for me. But finally I reached and parked the bike in front of Hotel Yatrik. I was quite tired but relieved that the journey was over. I wanted to take a shower immediately. They said they have no room. It's all full !!!

I set off on foot to look for another hotel on the Station Road. Hotel Raj next to Ray & Company looked decent and they offered me an AC room for Rs 1600. I promptly checked in. No warm shower but that's fine. 

I had a plate of Paneer Pakoda and tea. The pakoda was very well made. After shower I went out on foot towards the temple. I am not a religious person. But I have some special pull towards the Deoghar Baidyanath Dham and the Kalighat temple. Perhaps it is to do with childhood memories and nostalgia. The stretch of road from the Tower to the entry point of the bazaar (where Gauranga Mistanna Bhandar used to be) has the look and feel of Benares's stretch of Gaudhulia to Dasaswamedh Ghat. I could recognise a few old shops like Hotel Neelkamal or Bata but many of the old shops are missing now. We had a small shop for buying stuff like biscuits or toothpaste etc that we call stationery shop run by a Bengali. He also used to keep the day's newspaper. That one has folded up. Gauranga is gone too. 

Tilkut was still being made on the street. This is a very old traditional crispy found in this part of the world. They make it with ram dana which is a corn. On the return journey from the temple I bought one for Rs 15. Very old nostalgic taste. 

What irked me the most about this walk through the heritage corridor of Deoghar was the sheer volume of the crowd and motorcycles in every nook and cranny of the town, not to speak of the cacophony they made. I realised that the cycle-rickshaw and tongas are missing, replaced largely by handmade and crude e-rickshaws. I asked an e-rickshaw driver. He said, you might still find a few old rickshaw pullers. Who wants to ride those slow vehicles?  

I walked on till the temple. The shops that sold skillets and other cast iron utensils from where my mother always bought something or the other every year are still there. But the stuff they sell have become more glitzy. The glass bangle shops are all still there. But the small shop that used to sell wooden toys (possibly from Bhelupur) for children is gone.

Our old peda shop is still there. The old owner (he used to be Kochika's classmate) is a photograph on the wall. That the new owner is his son does not need to be told. He looks more or less an exact replica of his father.  

The old beggar sitting under the arch of an old building looking after the sandals of people entering the temple is still there. I left my sandals in her care. I was not prepared for the change I saw inside the temple complex. People were sitting on the floor of the courtyard almost all around the temple. They were watching the goings on inside the temple on giant screens put up on the temple's main spire. Someone was chanting mantras over a loudspeaker and once in a while every one was shouting "har har mahadev" and raising their hands in the sky. Some were taking photographs of the giant screen with their mobile. It was plain disgusting. 

I had planned to go to the Nilkanth temple to see our family panda - Jatadhari Gajanan (he is long dead but his clan is still there) - but it seemed impossible to get there through that crowd of audience. I rang the huge bell a couple of times and decided to call it a day. I saw a huge queue of people who wanted to enter the temple's sanctum sanctorum. They were in a cage of sorts, to maintain queue discipline.  I cannot imagine going through this to see an idol. I came back defeated and disappointed by these changes. Deoghar temple was never a quiet little place. It always teemed with people. But this was shocking.

I had wanted to go to the temple the next morning but somehow I could not motivate myself to go there any more. Instead around noon, I walked to Naulakha Mandir. This was another annual pilgrimage we used to make in our childhood. After a 2.5 Km walk I found the Balananda Ashram was closed. I was told that it is closed since Covid broke. I walked further for the temple. I couldn't see it. I asked someone. He showed me a side lane. The front gate was closed and entry now is through the back door. It was closed in any case. It would open at 2 pm, they said. I got a clearer view of the Naulakha temple now. It looked shabby with black fungal growth on the temple's top spires. It looks terrible now. Like an old abandoned lady who has seen prosperous days in her youth but is now struggling to make ends meet. I really felt sad by what I saw. 

This used to be a sparkling clean and quiet temple with a lot of grace and peaceful surroundings in a beautiful garden. Adjoining it was the Balananda Ashram. Both were closed for me. I traced my footsteps back to the hotel.

There was an old stately building in front that was lying vacant. I remember this building. It belonged to some Bengali but now obviously no one lives there. Took a few photographs only for memory's sake.

The Deoghar that I saw had no resemblance whatsoever with the Deoghar of my childhood. I do not expect it either. But the kind of changes that have happened are all for the worse and shocking for me. In the evening Babu-da and I had a telephone chat over these issues. He is probably the last Bengali who still maintains his house from Calcutta. He said that was possible only because he had a roaring practice in the High Court. A frank and honest confession. He still donates money to the Bengali library near the station. I think RN Bose Memorial Library. 

I came back on the morning of Monday, starting at around 7.30 am after a small breakfast of two boiled eggs and a few slices of breads. The hotel's kitchen had still not become fully functional. I had taken two boiled eggs for the road the previous night. In the morning I filled up the tank with 9 litres of petrol from the pump opposite to the Bengali library. I had a small fear about pulling the bike up the basement parking lot but I cleared the slope without any problem whatsoever. Going down was more challenging. One small tip for such steep slopes. Never use the front brake while going down. Try not to use any brake at all while going down. If at all, use very light brake on the rear wheel only. 

Return via Jamtara and Asansol

On the return journey I went towards Sarath. This is past the Naulakha temple along a well maintained road. There is even an airport on this road now. But here one can see those vast patches of nothingness up to the line where the sky meets the earth. This is not so easily seen these days any more. From Sarath one goes straight towards Chitra. The road from Sarath is narrow and not in the best state of repair. But I didn't mind. It's not as bad as the Dumka Deoghar Road or the Aushgram one. After Chitra one goes towards Dehri Chowk and turns right. From here the road is nice and reaches Jamtara soon.

This route avoids going through Madhupur or Karmatar, which used to be the old motorable route to Deoghar. 

I was curious about Jamtara, having heard so much about its reputation as the phishing capital of the country. I expected to see some evidence of it in the form of large buildings and affluent looking youth. I found nothing of that sort. Just another pretty little Jharkhandi town. I went past it through Mihijam and hit the highway soon. This place used to be sleepy a few years ago and called Chowringhee Morh but now has a huge flyover. If you go straight you reach Niyamatpur. 

I turned left and continued through Raniganj, Panagarh, Galsi, Burdwan etc to reach home at around 3.30 pm - a total of about eight hours, as opposed to the ten hours it took while going. 

On the way I had only a tea near Jamtara with a jilipi. Both were terrible. Near Dankuni I had another tea and finished off the two boiled eggs I had brought from the hotel. I didn't stop anywhere on the way because there was just no shade anywhere. I had meant to stop at the Nag Hotel in Panagarh but then later realised that there is a flyover over there and unless one enters the town one cannot go there any more. 

With a heavy heart, I must admit that this was probably my last visit to Deoghar. The Deoghar I knew does not exist any more.

 Let me write down the basic distances 

Starting Point (Home) - 3716 Km

Deoghar Tower (Destination) - 4076 Km

Final Destination - 4408 Km

Distance via Massanjore/Dumka - 360 Km

Distance via Jamtara - 332 Km 

Total Distance - 692 Km 

Sandakphu - Version I

The year was 1990. Perhaps January. Certainly not beyond February. I cannot remember clearly. I had just come back from Bhutan for my winter vacation, which used to be from mid-December to end March. I was desperate to go out on a trek. With no friend available to go with me I decided to go out alone.

I am sure I would have taken the bus to Siliguri and from there a shared jeep to Ghum. For all you know, I might have even come from Darjeeling to Ghum also. I have quite forgotten and it doesn’t really matter any more. But I do remember that from Ghum I took another shared jeep to Sukhia Pokhari. Sukhia at that time was a small hamlet with just a few shops and a jeep stand. It’s a full-fledged bustling, noisy town now.

From Sukhia I got into another shared Land Rover to Maneybhanjang. I remember the Land Rover driver got rid of us in the middle of the way, saying a nut had fallen off one of his wheels and it would be dangerous to be travelling with so many people !!! I guess I walked the rest of the way or perhaps hitched another ride in another jeep. Once again I cannot remember clearly and it doesn't really matter.

I do remember starting from Maneybhanjang in the middle of the day and in all likelihood after a hearty lunch. The sun was up and it was pretty hot. I asked someone which way to Sandakphu in crisp Nepali and they showed me the way.

Even Manaybhanjang, which is a big town now, was a small hamlet with only a few shops around the main road. In fact Maney was still a small sleepy village when we next visited it in 2000. It's only recently that it has grown into such a large town.

Another thing I remember clearly about this trip is that I had a thick, brown leather jacket on (I had just bought it from the Lexpo in Calcutta) and a pair of Wrangler jeans. I was wearing a pair of Power Joggers. The rucksack was an old external framed sack and it had a very high quality down sleeping bag inside it, which we had bought from Kathmandu a few years ago during our Langtang trek.  

So, around mid-day I set off for Sandakphu. It was warm. I was alone. I was doing Sandakphu in the classic solo Alpine style J

My enthusiasm soon took a hit. It was hot. I was wearing a super warm leather jacket. I had a load on my back and my whole back was aching. I was thirsty. I had exhausted the bottle of water within half an hour. By 45 minutes I knew I could not carry on any more. I was thoroughly exhausted.

To make matters worse I could not see a single human being anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, since starting from Maney I had not seen anyone. I was desperately looking for a human being or a house. After some time, I saw a cow shed kind of thing. A hut with tiled roof and a few huge cows tethered to pegs on the ground – a very familiar sight for me. I went to the door of the house and parked myself on a slab of stone meant for sitting (like a bench outside our tea stalls here). There was no one around. I kept knocking on the open door. No one around.

So I kept waiting. Finally a young girl came along. She is a Tibetan in her teens. Not a Nepali. I asked her if her parents were around. She asked me why. I said I needed to spend the night here. She was totally flabbergasted. She said no way could they let someone sleep in their house. And insisted that I walk just a little bit more to a place called Meghma. I said nothing doing. If you do not let me sleep inside the house I will sleep outside. There is no way I would go any further.

After this her old father came. He was also equally flabbergasted to know that a stranger wants to sleep in their house. He said tomorrow is our Losar (Tibetan New Year, which is a very big festival among Tibetans all over the world) and our son is going to come from Darjeeling tonight. How can I let you stay here? There is no space. I was quite serious about spending the night outside their room. Finally they took sympathy on me and let me spend the night in their drawing room on a divan.

The son came along. Quite an educated guy who works in Darjeeling in some government department. We hit it off pretty well and had a wonderful evening chatting together.  We spoke about my experience in Bhutan and he explained the finer points of Tibetan Buddhism to me. I do not remember the dinner we had. But next morning I left after just a tea, thanking them profusely.

Before going out I asked them what the name of the village was and they said it was called Chitre. Just one house village and it has a name of its own. I felt pretty tickled. Chitre, thankfully, has remained more or less the same. But I guess that hut is now a full fledged guest house. More importantly, most trekkers now know it by its name. I guess I have the distinction of being the first trekker guest of Chitre, albeit unsolicited.

Meghma, I soon realized was certainly not round the corner as the “bainee” (sister in Nepali) told me it was. But Meghma lived up to its name. There were clouds all around. I realised I wasn't feeling as tired as I was feeling the day before. That first day's trek warmed me up and frankly right up to Sandkphug, over the next couple of days I did not ever feel tired.

I entered the first house that comes when you reach Meghma. It is a Lama’s house and they had a huge kitchen. I feel very comfortable in such settings. I soon put my sack down. Sat near the large oven and ordered for Momos and noodles. Dried Tibetan cheese sticks were hanging all over the huge kitchen. I thoroughly enjoyed the company of the two young girls in their late teens, their fat old mother and the old, ever smiling Lama. After some time, much against my wishes I took their leave and set out for Jaubari. 

While the trail from Chitre to Meghma is an uphill climb, it flattens out after Meghma. Within minutes I came across a bamboo check post in the middle of nowhere. This is Nepal border, I am told. The check post is nothing but a long bamboo pole kept blocking the trail. But it's an international check post nevertheless !!! I called out blindly (the Nepali equivalent of "is there anyone out there?") in the hope that someone would be around. Soon a lady came from nowhere and I realised that she actually had a small arrangement to make tea in that middle of nowhere. She made tea for me and we had some chit chat about this and that. She refused to accept any money for the tea from someone who could speak Nepali !!! I learnt this place is called Tumling.

Tumling now has quite a few guest houses and in fact many going to Sandakphug stop here to spend the first night. A status that Meghma enjoyed in the 80s and early 90s. Meghma, meanwhile, has become a mini-bustling town now with its own little monastery.

From Tumling to Jaubari is a non-descript walk which was completed in a short time. Jaubari had a nice system to accomodate guests. They had two guest houses there. One, as you entered the village. It was called Teacher's Lodge. I guess it was owned by a teacher. The other at the end of the village called Indira Lodge. I believe, while Teacher's Lodge has folded up Indira Lodge is still going strong. Now, the system back then was Teacher's and Indira hosted the guests every alternate night. The night I was there, it was Indira's turn. I unloaded my stuff there and then went to roam around in the little village.

I soon found my way to Teacher's Lodge where only the two daughters of the owner were there. The three of us had a wonderful evening chatting in Nepali. God only remembers what all we chatted about. The only thing I remember is they had huge copper pitchers and they really loved my leather jacket and wanted to buy it from me. If memory serves me right, I had tongba with them at Teacher's.

I remember eating pasta at Indira Lodge for dinner. The pasta was produced out of a small hand operated machine in the kitchen itself. I found this rather unique.

I must mention that I found I was the only tourist in that region. Next morning I left for Kalipokhari. On the way was Gairibas. I do not remember anything about Gairibas except that there was some army check post. On the way I saw a few Israeli tourists. One of the guys was feeling rather sick and wanted to call it off. I felt sad for him.

I remember entering Kalipokhari in the afternoon when it was very cloudy. There is a very small pond in Kalipokhari. It was covered under thick cloud. I remember nothing about where I stayed in Kalipokhari but there were a couple of places there to stay.

Next day I went to Sandakphu. The hike was quite a long one and I felt very very tired trudging my way up to the top. Towards the end some huge dogs started barking around me. As it is I was feeling very cold and tired and then these dogs were surrounding me. I picked up some stones from the trail and the dogs knew what it meant. They soon ran away but kept barking at me. I was indeed a little scared at this stage.

Finally I reached Sandakphug.

If I remember correctly, there was just one shack in Sandakphug back then where I spent a couple of nights. If I am not mistaken that has now morphed into the super luxury hotel of Sherpa Chalet. There was another Japanese tourist there in Sandakphug. As usual we hit it off pretty well. He is the first guy who ever told me about Karakoram Highway. We had corresponded for a few years after this. But as things happen he is lost somewhere in this big bad  world.

I remember just two things about Sandakphug - there was just one hut in the hill top where I stayed. That hut had a bitch that was sitting with its litter and I stepped on her. She bit me as I stepped on her while going out for a pee in the night. The Japanese guy told me not to worry as it was a natural reaction and the dog was probably not rabid. He even gave me some ointment to apply. Although it had bitten me over the jeans, I bled a little.

I also remember the thick snow behind the hut. I was super thrilled to see so much snow. The weather was glorious. I wished it would snow. But it didn't.

Aftter two nights in Sandakphug, I went down towards Rimbik. One walked down up to Bikaybhanjang, which is the common trail towards Kalipokhari. From here the trail bifurcated. I went walking towards Rimbik. This is a narrow trail going through a dense rhododendron forest. There were places where the trail was snow covered and one needed to take steps rather cautiously. I quite did all that without batting an eyelid. I once lost the trail and got distracted a bit. But soon enough I realised that I was off the trail and came back to the main trail.

Towards the end of the day I met a group of porters who had just about started from Rimbik and walking towards Sandakphug. They said they would reach way before sunset. I was quite amazed by this claim.

Finally my solo trek to Sandakphug ended when I descended on Rimbik - the road head. I remember there was a Rod Stewart poster in the room where I stayed. The lodge owner gave me a guest book to write my comments on. One of the comments left by a previous guest was: What's Rod Stewart doing in my room? 

I had taken a lot of photographs during this trip with my Olympus OM10 camera. I do not know where they are.