No Path In Darjeeling Is Straight

For a few years in the early 1990sat a time when the embers of a violent agitation for Gorkhaland were slowly dying downParimal Bhattacharya taught at the Government College in Darjeeling. No Path in Darjeeling Is Straight is a memory of his time in the iconic town and one of the finest works of Indian nonfiction in recent years. Parimal evocatively describes his arrival through drizzle and impenetrable fog at a place that was at odds with the grand picture of it he had painted for himself. And his first night there was spent sleepless in a ramshackle hotel above a butchers shop. Yet as he tramped its roads and winding footpaths Darjeeling grew on him. He sought out its history a land of incomparable beauty originally inhabited by the Lepchas and other tribes the British who took it for themselves in the mid1800s so they could remember home the Darjeeling Himalayan Railwayonce a vital artery now a quaint toy trainbuilt in 1881 and the vast tea gardens with which the British replaced verdant forests to produce the fabled Orange Pekoe. In the enmeshed lives of his neighboursof various castes tribes religions and cultureslived at the measured pace of a small town Parimal discovered a richly cosmopolitan society which endured even under threat from cynical politics and haphazard urbanization. He also found new friends Benson a colleague whose death from AIDS showed him the dark underbelly of the hill station Pratap and Newton whose homes and lives reflected the irreconcilable pulls of tradition and upward mobility and Julia and Hemant with whom he trekked the forests of the Singalila mountains in search of a vanished Lepcha village and a salamander long thought extinct. With empathy and in shimmering prose No Path in Darjeeling Is Straight effortlessly merges travel history literature memory politics and the pleasures of ennui into an unforgettable portrait of a place and its people.