From The Himalayas To Golaghat: A Homecoming Diary

This illustration captures the essence of Mithu Das's journey from Nepal to India. His trek home to Golaghat begins with an EV ride from Jibjibe to Galchhi, followed by a Night Super Deluxe bus to the Kakarvitta border. From there, he’ll hop on another bus to New Jalpaiguri before finally boarding the Avadh Assam Express for the last leg to Furkating Junction.

A journey of recalibration from the Himalayas to Golaghat, this blogpost weaves together colonial history, Uncle Robin’s Natural History Museum, the wild beauty of the Nambor rainforest, a warm Rongali Bihu and a tribute to Zubeen Garg.

Returning home is more than a change in geography; it is a recalibration of the soul. As an English teacher at North Pole Boarding High School in Jibjibe, Nepal, my days are usually defined by crisp mountain air and the rhythmic bustle of school life. Last week, however, I traded the Himalayan foothills for the lush, familiar emeralds of my hometown: Golaghat, Assam.

My primary reason for visiting Golaghat was to exercise my democratic right. On Thursday, April 9th, I headed to the polls to cast my vote in the Legislative Assembly Elections. But beyond the ballot, this trip became a pilgrimage through memory and nature.

Whispers of the Past

On Saturday, I took a quiet detour to the Golaghat British Cemetery, where I met Mr. Jalal Ahmed and his son. The Ahmed family carries a storied legacy: Mr. Ahmed’s great-great-grandfather, Abdul Aziz, was entrusted by British officers in the 1880s to look after these grounds. As one of Assam’s oldest burial sites dating back to the pre-independence era, the cemetery feels like a portal to another time. The most notable site here is the grave of Captain John Butler, son of Colonel John Butler who wrote Travels and Adventures in the Province of Assam. Captain Butler was a British Bengal Staff Corps officer and Political Agent of the Naga Hills. He died on January 7, 1876, after being wounded by a Naga spear. (I look forward to sharing a detailed exploration of these graves in my next post.)

The Nambor River near Garampani Hot Water Spring — **The Nambor River**, a tropical masterpiece, is slowly flowing near the Garampani Hot Water Springs. Have you ever noticed the colour of the water? It looks exactly like a giant cup of freshly brewed Assam tea. In fact, that rich amber glow is actually the pure magic of the rainforest!

Into the Wild

Sunday was dedicated to the wild. I trekked into the dense canopy of the Nambor Wildlife Reserve, home to Hoolock Gibbons, elephants, numerous species of birds including some rare hornbills, and many endangered species of plants. After the hike, I found solace at the Garampani Hot Water Spring. Its sulfurous waters, famed for their medicinal properties, attracts a lot of visitors every day. Nearby, the Nambor River smoothly flows through the forest, framing the hot water spring with towering trees and breathtaking scenery.

Uncle Robin’s Natural History Museum, Golaghat — **Uncle Robin’s Natural History Museum** in Golaghat—originally the home of legendary biodiversity champion Late Dr. Robin Banerjee—is a fascinating treasure trove of global wildlife photography and rare documentaries. The museum also houses an extensive collection of dolls, artifacts, paintings, and wildlife literature.

On Monday, I visited a place close to my heart: Uncle Robin’s Natural History Museum. Located just 1.5 km from my home, this sanctuary was once the residence of the legendary biodiversity champion and Padma Shri Awardee Dr. Robin Banerjee. Having had the privilege of meeting Dr. Banerjee two times in the 1990s, I credit to him sparking my lifelong passion for nature and wildlife.

Image of Dr Robin Banerjee — **Dr. Robin Banerjee** (1908–2003) was an acclaimed naturalist, filmmaker, and physician. A former Royal Navy officer turned wildlife advocate, he produced 32 documentaries, including his 1961 landmark film on Kaziranga's rhinos. His legacy earned him international honors and the Padma Shri.

During this visit, I spent time reconnecting with the museum’s dedicated caretakers: Mr. Hitesh Das and Mr. Tamuly. As I explored the halls with my mobile phone camera, I stumbled upon a new discovery among the exhibits—a find so remarkable that I can't wait to share the full story in an upcoming post.

Image of Zubeen Garg — **Zubeen Garg (1972–2025)** was more than a musician; he still remains the voice of a generation and the heartbeat of millions. His artistry has spanned soulful melodies and rebellious anthems, but his impact has extended far beyond the stage. Guided by (Buddhist) compassion, Zubeen’s transformative generosity provided vital lifelines to those in need, proving that he didn't just perform for the people—he lived for them.

The Atmosphere of a Legend: Zubeen’s Living Legacy

Amidst these reunions with nature and history, a heavy silence initially seemed to hang over Golaghat—the void left by the untimely passing of Zubeen Garg. His death brought a wave of sorrow across India, but for an ardent fan like me, the grief felt deeply personal.

However, as I wandered through the streets, I realized that while Zubeen may be gone, he is far from absent; I felt his presence in every corner of the town. His face looked back at me from hand-painted murals on private homes, and his posters stood in public squares like guardians of our collective memory. At the Gold Digital Cinema, the poster for his final film, Roi Roi Binale, hung proudly—a concrete proof to his creative spirit. Most of all, his voice remained the literal heartbeat of the town. I heard his melodies drifting from every shop, hotel, and passing e-rickshaw, proving that a legend doesn't truly leave; he simply becomes the very atmosphere we breathe.

Nestled within the Nambor Wildlife Sanctuary, the **Garampani Hot Water Springs** are a natural thermal wonder. Their sulfurous waters, famed for their medicinal properties, attract numerous visitors every day.

A Symphony of Traditions

April 14th marked a beautiful intersection of cultures in our household: Rongali Bihu and Poila Boisakh (the Assamese and Bengali New Year). This date also holds deep significance in Nepal, marking Navavarsha (Nepali New Year) and the start of the Bikram Sambat calendar, ushering in the year 2083 BS.

Our home became a symphony of aromas: Mother prepared the traditional Pachan, a nutritious medley of seasonal vegetables, and handmade Murir Moa and Chirer Moa (puffed rice and flattened rice balls held together by jaggery). My brother arrived with a fresh mug of yoghurt and some packets of authentic Assamese Pitha, while I contributed a variety of local sweets. Even Jimy, our dog, joined the festivities with a special meal of meat and treats. Her frantic barking and wagging tail were the best thank you we could have asked for.

Image of Morgan Freeman — In December 2018, Academy Award winner Morgan Freeman visited Nepal to film National Geographic’s The Story of God. Reflecting on his journey, Freeman shared that he would never forget the warmth and profound love he received from the Nepali people. (Image: Nepal News)

A Lesson in Perspective: On Being a Kancha

While my trip was filled with nostalgia, it wasn't without a moment of friction. While walking past the vegetable shops near Golaghat Veterinary Hospital, I heard a man remark to another in Assamese: "Aitu Kancha (কাঞ্চা) hoi!" (He is a Kancha!). Knowing I live and work in Nepal, he clearly meant it as a jab—a way to mock the outsider status he perceived in me. There is a segment of people in Golaghat (town) who look for any opportunity to belittle others, and in that moment, I was their target.

However, if he intended to insult me, he failed. In fact, I welcome the title. In Nepal, being a Kancha (younger brother or lad) isn't just a label: it is a role one earns through integration and service. To move to a different country and be embraced as a Kancha is no small feat. I find myself in excellent company—global icons who visited Nepal and embraced the spirit of the land, from Morgan Freeman and Keanu Reeves to Leonardo DiCaprio and Bryan Adams. Even UN Secretaries-General like António Guterres and the late Dag Hammarskjöld found beauty in Nepalese culture; I like to think they, too, would have been honored to be called Kancha.

Furthermore, figures like Sir Edmund Hillary and Nepal's Butterfly Man Colin Smith were effectively granted the ultimate lifetime award—Nepalese citizenship—for their dedication to the people. They were the quintessential Kanchas.

So, to the man at the market: thank you. To be called Kancha is to be recognized as someone who has crossed borders, mastered new ways of life, and built a bridge between Assam and the Himalayas. If that makes me a target for mockery in some eyes, it is a badge I wear with immense pride.

Golaghat Town — A bird's–eye view of Golaghat town from the top of the district court.

Final Thoughts

As I prepare to return to my classroom in Jibjibe, I carry the warmth of the Assamese sun and the nostalgic flavors of Murir Moa and Pitha with me. This journey has reminded me that home isn't a single coordinate on a map, but a tapestry woven from the high–altitude rhythms of Nepal and the river–fed soul of Golaghat. Whether I am "Sir" in a Himalayan schoolroom or "Kancha" in a Golaghat vegetables market, I return recalibrated, knowing that home is truly where the heart—and the best food—resides.

Until next time, Golaghat!