Mayal Lyang..The hidden land

I first heard about the Dzongu Lepcha reserve over a cup of coffee with a Catholic, Sikkimese friend of mine. The Dzongu hills of North Sikkim are proclaimed as a reserve to protect the already dwindling population of Lepchas, the original inhabitants of Sikkim. While the description of the places she visited created an image of a virgin wilderness in my mind, I was more enticed by the story of Mayal Lyang – the hidden land.

She narrated “Lepchas talk of a secret, hidden place in Dzongu called Mayal Lyang. Nestled amidst dense forests, the villagers in Mayal Lyang live by hunting, catching fish and farming. So fertile is the soil that everything grows here all year round. There is no disease or famine. The inhabitants of this village are blessed with eternal life. They start their day as children, turn into strong adults at noon and finally grow old at dusk. A Lepcha hunter once followed a black river into a wild forest at the base of  Kanchenjunga. He walked for days and nights in search of the elusive land of Mayal Lyang. On the third afternoon, behind ancient stones with inscriptions in his mother tongue “Ring rong”, he saw a wooden gate. This gate led him to Mayal Lyang – the hidden paradise. Never before had he seen such a world. Beautiful red pheasants called their partners sitting on the branches of peach trees blooming with small, white flowers. Water cascaded from the cliffs like the froth of hot, creamy milk. Enervated from the long journey, he sat beside the lake to quench his thirst. The water so sweet, the taste so pure, for a moment he thought it was his afterlife. As he walked further he saw a spectacular sight – a small village with seven picturesque wooden cottages. A path of stones with green shrubs of cardamom stood on either side as he felt the musky smell of a fresh harvest of millet crop.

'Chi' or 'Chang'

In the village, seven friends danced and made merry while drinking ‘Chi’ (a local lepcha drink made with millet) from their large bamboo mugs. Nobody was sad. The villagers happily welcomed the hunter to be part of their celebrations. He ate, drank, made merry and slept on a mattress of soft, green moss covered in a blanket of incredibly soft yak wool. The next morning, he remembered his wife and children in Pungtong and decided to leave Mayal Lyang. He thought “I will go and bring my family here”. So he came out of the gate and put some of his clothing near the ancient stones. Then, somewhere near the river, he left more of his clothing to mark a trail to return. However, when he came back with his family, he looked for his clothes but found nothing there. He only saw hills and an unending expanse of dense jungle. The Lepchas believe that a true, enlightened Lepcha can still find the path to Mayal Lyang – the hidden paradise.”

Dzongu blues, Tingvong village  Pic courtesy: Vikrant Chaplot

                A year from then, as our jeep trudged its way on the tarmac leading its way to Tingvong village in Dzongu, the story of Mayal Lyang ran across my mind. Admiring the breathtaking view of the last rays of sunshine kissing the peaks of mighty Kanchenjunga, we stepped into the beautiful cottage of our host, Dupden Lepcha, grandson of the famous Lepcha hunter Gora Lepcha. Early spring was abound with calls of the Himalayan cuckoo. As the sun fell, the sky painted a mesmerizing blue shade across the green mountains. Throughout the evening, I kept on pondering over the existence of Mayal Lyang. Can we search for it? Is there a miraculous chance by which we can enter this world? I coaxed our host Dupden to tell us more about this hidden paradise. To my disappointment, Dupden was happier narrating stories of managing his two wives, his adventurous escapades of youth and the customs of Lepchas in general. However, he promised to take us on a day long hike through trails of forests and villages the next day.

Pandim peak, Kanchenjunga ranges from Tingvong, Dzongu         Pic courtesy:Vikrant Chaplot

                We woke up early the next day to the call of the rooster. The morning sun kissed the peaks of Kanchenjunga, turning her red with beauty. Within minutes, the mighty ranges shone in all their glory, casting the spell of Cleopatra upon its spectators. Our journey in the quest of Mayal Lyang started early after breakfast. We had to tread our way down the hill, cross a river using an old suspension bridge and then
make a steep climb on the mountain on the other side. I thoroughly enjoyed the descent, listening to the chirping birds and enjoying the fresh mountain breeze. At every pit stop, I kept looking for some evidence of that mysterious land of Mayal Lyang. As we crossed the bridge and started climbing the arduous slopes, things turned a little difficult. The trail was steep, covered with slippery moss and crumbling stones and pebbles. While the athletic couple rushed to climb their way up and win the race, I was panting and sweating, dragging my aching feet on the slippery rocks. After a few hours of drudgery through this terrain, thirsty and hungry, we encountered a plain stretch of cardamom plantations.

Inscriptions on stones..The Lepchas practise Animism or nature worship

Adjacent to these low growing leafy plants was an ancient structure of stones. The entire structure was covered in religious inscriptions in Ring Rong and Tibetan. Perhaps a portal to enter into Mayal Lyang, I thought. I frantically searched for the gate. It was not there. I looked for any traces of evidence to turn the myth of Mayal Lyang into reality. It was not there. But behind the stones, ran a pipe with fresh, chilled water of the Himalayas. Dupden gently removed one end of the pipe from the detachable joint and we all took turns to quench our thirst. The water so sweet, the taste so pure, for a moment I thought it was my afterlife. 

Path to the hot spring      Pic courtesy: Vikrant Chaplot

  The trail led us to a natural hot spring in the midst of whispering woods. Mystical, white flags fluttered in the breeze on the side of a cemented path. We sat inside the warm pool for hours, drowsing our fatigue in the magical waters. After returning to Tingvong village, Dupden’s family welcomed us with Chi in bamboo mugs, ‘khapche’ (a local snack), bonfire and music. We ate and drank, sang songs around the fire, danced and made merry. Nobody was sad. Strong bonds of friendship filled the air with happiness. No disease, no famine, no worries.

As I lay down on the bed to sleep that night, I remembered my parents and the love of my life. I thought “I wish I could go and bring my family here”. Every part of my body ached with a sweet pain. A pain that told me that I had grown old today but I would be young again tomorrow. To the aching muscles, the bed felt like a mattress of soft, green moss covered in a blanket of incredibly soft yak wool. My heart had found its Mayal Lyang today as the quest for another Mayal Lyang will begin tomorrow.

 Mayal Lyang – The precious but priceless gifts life offers us everyday.                        

    Gaily bedight,

Dupden Lepcha's homestay in Dzongu

    A gallant knight,
   In sunshine and in shadow,
   Had journeyed long,
   Singing a song,
   In search of Eldorado.

  But he grew old,
  This knight so bold,
  And o'er his heart a shadow,
  Fell as he found,
  No spot of ground,
  That looked like Eldorado.

 And, as his strength
  Failed him at length,
  He met a pilgrim shadow -
  'Shadow', said he,
  'Where can it be - 
   This land of Eldorado?'

   'Over the Mountains
    Of the Moon,
    Down the valley of the Shadow,
    Ride, boldly ride,'
    The shade replied, - 
    'If you seek for Eldorado!'          

  - Eldorado by Edgar Allan Poe