For as long as I can remember, Bhutan has lingered on my bucket list and the same was true for Soumya. Bhutan had always lived in our imaginations – a mystical kingdom that both me and Soumya dreamed of exploring, yet never quite managed to visit. Fate, however, has a way of surprising us when we least expect it.
During a casual trip to a mall in Guwahati, we struck up a conversation with our driver, only to discover something astonishing: the Bhutanese border was just an hour and a half away. As a local, I was sceptical how had I never heard of this before. A few calls to friends and they confirmed it to be true. A brief conversation with my parents and we all agreed to make a trip.
Our journey began fighting through Guwahati traffic for about half an hour before hitting to highway. Soon we were wizzing through picturesque Assam style houses and open fields with small hills in the backdrop. Our first stop was at Senaki Osenaki (or Elite Earth Cafe) in Rongia Tamulpur, a charming little place for breakfast. The food was decent and the restaurant was spacious. Just before reaching the border we passed through beautiful tea gardens which invited us to stop the car and get down to admire it’s beauty more closely.
At the border, the entry process was seamless—just ten minutes for a free 24-hour permit (voter ID or passport sufficed). For longer stays, a separate office issues extended passes, but for us, a day was enough to fall in love with Bhutan’s magic.
Stepping into Samdrup Jongkhar, one of the oldest town in southeastern Bhutan, felt like entering a story book. The architecture so distinct, so proud, breathed stories of tradition and devotion. Every structure, from dzongs, hospitals, shops to post office and even private houses carried the same intricate woodwork, vibrant colors, and deep Buddhist symbolism. Though our permit restricted us to a 4-kilometer radius, it was more than enough to leave us enchanted.
Within the permissible limits is the Rabdey Monastery. As we entered the courtyard, we were greeted by the most heartwarming sight: a senior monk lifting a tiny, giggling monk in training, clutching an Avengers action figure in his small hands, as if reluctantly playtime had come to an end. The contrast of ancient spirituality to the child innocence made the atmosphere inviting.
When we requested entry to the main temple, a dozen of young monks, their crimson robes flying behind them, came running towards us smiling and inquisitive. One particularly enthusiastic little monk raced forward like a red-caped superhero , his face bright with excitement that mirrored my own child’s wonder. The image of those flying robes and beaming faces will remain as one of my most cherished travel memories.
Inside, the monastery enveloped us in serenity – the earthy scent of incense, the rhythmic chanting, the stunning murals depicting Buddhist parables. Yet it was alive with youthful energy, as curious young monks peeked at us between their studies. The senior monk explained how Rabdey serves as both spiritual center and school, preserving Bhutan’s living culture.
At Kuenjung Hotel, our taste buds embarked on their own adventure. The chicken ema datshi arrived bubbling ominously, its fiery orange chilies floating in a creamy cheese sea that set our mouths tingling with the first brave spoonful. Between gasps for water and bursts of laughter, we discovered why this is Bhutan’s national obsession. The pizza – an unexpected delight – bore a perfect crispy crust topped with local yak cheese that stretched satisfyingly with each bite.
The shopping streets of Samdrup Jongkhar proved irresistible. Each shopfront was a treasure cave – shelves groaning under the weight of beautiful dresses, delicate silver amulets, and the most adorable fridge magnets featuring Bhutan’s iconic takin and cutest girls. I lost myself among colorful woven textiles, running my fingers over their intricate patterns, while the shopkeepers smiled knowingly at my barely-contained excitement. The crockery section held particular magic – the ceramic bowls seemed to hold entire landscapes in their glaze.
As evening approached and our permit’s expiration loomed, a profound melancholy settled over us. Driving through the town one last time, every colorful prayer flag fluttering in the breeze, every smiling face men wearing Gao and women Kira, was such a delight to see. The mellowed sun-kissed dzong’s rooftops looked as if giving were giving us a golden farewell.
As our cab drove us away, I pressed my forehead to the window, watching until the last Bhutanese mountain faded from view. Somewhere behind us, a little monk was probably still playing with his Avengers toy, completely unaware that he’d become part of our family’s stories. Bhutan, this wasn’t goodbye – just the first chapter in our love story with your misty peaks and warm-hearted people. We’ll be back soon, to discover your prayer-flag lined paths, to taste your fiery cheeses, and to let your magic mesmerize us again.
Shu lay log jay gae!
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