Two months ago, I quit my job. I had some savings in my pocket and the whole wide world to explore. A dear friend asked me if I wanted to travel to Tripura. I said yes.
We wanted mystery, we wanted adventure, and so we traveled across the country to where the lands are true and pure.
Untouched and beautiful. The jungles of Amarpur are home to tribes of Tripura. We were duly informed by our new-local-friend that these jungle used to be Naxal zones. They are safe now (whatever that means).
We took our bikes and rode to Chabimura. By the time we reached we were cold and shivering. We hired a simple boat and set sail into the fantastical land. We passed groups of reliefs on cliffs of gods and goddesses who protect these lands; these lands where culture, religion, tradition and humanity grow together in love.
The boatman uncle stopped near a small spring. We were to follow the mountain trail leading upstream. We were to climb the trail as long as we could. The boatman would wait for us.
The trail was rocky, slippery, sharp and also somewhat dangerous. After a while we reached a natural cave like formation. Clean mountain water was falling off a small crevice in the ceiling. The crevice also brought in a bright sunlight in that drowsy cave. It is believed that Lord Shiva himself resides on the other side of this light.
I could hardly express how bright were the greens in the forest, how soft was the river water or how at peace was in the forests of Chabimura. Here I felt a deep sense of being one with nature.
Muddy shoes and Suntan 