The Himalayan flight
A flight to Paro from Delhi is a most exhilarating experience. It provides spectacular, almost mid boggling views of the Himalayan peaks, viz. Mt. Everest, Makalu, Kanchenjunga, Nuptse, Lhotse and several others. Some of these are the highest in the world. As the plane approaches Paro, one can see the towering peak of Mt. Jhomolhari, the abode of Goddess Jhomo.
Having taken a sip of Bhutan once, having breathed its air and seen its sights, a million valid reasons arise to bring the visitor back again and yet again. One of those million reasons actually originates and unfolds outside the mountain kingdom. The mind boggling view of the high Himalayas from the Delhi-Paro Druk Air flight is an unparalleled coup-de-theatre in its own right. It is presented perfectly to be savoured from within the realms of Bhutanese hospitality. Ask for the left side window seat while checking-in at the Delhi airport and wait to witness the lofty miracles of the Creation literally off the left wing of the aircraft.
The magic begins as air hostesses in traditional Bhutanese dress of Kira welcome the guests. The mood is transformed from the monoculture western dress code of Delhi to the fairyland feel of ancient tradition represented by Bhutan. The experience represented by the pure and traditional culture heightens the anticipation of encounters of an other worldly kind. Bhutan is the high oasis of fertile thought in the vast spiritual desert that the materialistic world has been transformed to. The appetite for everything Bhutanese is whetted further by the beautiful landscape and people depicted on the pages of Tashi Delek, the in-flight magazine.
The flight takes off for Kathmandu. We are soon flying over the Terai region of the Himalayan foothills. Numerous rivulets criss-cross the landscape on their journey to seek their salvation in the Holy Ganga. Small hills begin rising like pyramids. Scattered small and large patches of Terai forest are visible where the fields have mercifully stopped short in their relentless appetite for more land. There are obviously no major towns on the flight path across Nepal. Although we see extensive farmlands, there is hardly any habitation identifiable from far above.
We fly over the denuded hills as the aircraft approaches the Kathmandu valley. The flight takes a circuitous turn to approach the runway. Rows upon rows of houses, closely packed together, jostle for space, seemingly ready to spill on to the tarmac. The halt at Kathmandu transforms the predominant colour inside the aircraft from dull shades of international grey and blue to energizing red, ochre and saffron, as virtual procession of monks embarks to fill up every vacant seat. The sounds and smells in the passenger space now resemble the interior of a monastery. The flavor is unmistakably Buddhist and Bhutanese.
The departure from Kathmandu is the beginning of an experience we were all looking forward to. Soon airborne above the clouds, we enter the abode of gods. The entire pantheon of deities puts up a grand display. The Druk Air flight KB 203 is the Pushpak Vinam (celestial flying chariot), coursing through Indralok (gods’ abode). We are the lucky ones allowed a glimpse of Indra Subha (God’s cabinet of ministers). The saints, the sages, the gods and goddesses in various forms of clouds, winds, mountains and snowy peaks are lined up in deep meditation. The Swargalok (heaven) is insulated from the Mrityulok (land of the mortals) by a fine drape of fluffy white clouds. The arrogance, avarice, envy, greed, rage and desire of the earth melt into humility, love, devotion, piety and calm of the heaven. Soaking the beauty and vastness of creation, the mind is unburdened by all that is restrictive and negative in life. The mightiest of the Himalayan peaks tower above the satin colds, the white of the snow indistinguishable from the white of the clouds. Passenger crane at the windows with video cameras, as the captain announces the Mount Everest that appears like a black pyramid. The view is so bright, clear and near that I imagine taking pictures of climbers up on the south face; if only I had a suitable telelens.
Excitement builds up as a procession of the highest peaks presents the guard of honour - Makalu, Kanchenjunga, Gauri Shankar, Nuptse, Lhotse, Khumbakama and several others followed by distant peaks in the Sikkim Himalayas. Someone locates the Lukla airstrip and Namche Bazar where most Everest dreams begin to materialize. The pilot chips in with identification hints while the cabin crew does their best to answer excited queries of incredulous passengers.
As we approach Paro, Mount Jhomolhari, the crowning glory of Bhutan becomes visible. The flight then descends from the kingdom of heaven, through a blanket of clouds, to the heavenly kingdom. Surely, if there is heaven on earth, it is here in Bhutan. This is the only places where prosperity is measured not in the possession of gold and diamonds but in the distribution of joy and happiness. Even before the flight lands, one can notice god’s hand in the vision of this land. The valleys and ridges are densely wooded. These stand in clear contrast to the massive denudation of the terrain seen in the Indian Terai and the Nepalese hills. Smoke stacks, slums and unbridled encroachment are missing here. The air is clean and the view is clear. The flight path skirts around the hillsides, giving a bird’s eye view of the multi-hued foliage of the trees. Taktsang monastery and Paro Dzong come into view from the left side windows. While the former is the icon of Bhutan’s Buddhist identity, the latter has been the sentinel against Tibetan invasions over the centuries. Together they present a picture of Bhutan where time has stood still while simplicity and sagacity have vanished from the rest of the world.
We disembark from the plane into the cool and rarefied mountain air. It is a few yards walk from the terminal building that looks more like a palace than an airport. I notice people taking pictures all over the place. It is the ultimate in freedom after having been caged in the paranoid security around the world. We click the plane, the building and the landscape, standing right there on the runway as the alert but unobtrusive security men look on. By the time we are driven off in style in the Amankora pick-up, our money’s worth has already been encashed to the last ngultrum. We look forward to fly the route again another day just for that magnificent panorama of Mt. Everest towering above the clouds.
By: Dr. Lokesh Abrol