10. Why is the Himalaya called Sentry of India ?
Answers
Answer:
Lifted by the subduction of the Indian tectonic plate under the Eurasian Plate, the Himalayan mountain range runs west-northwest to east-southeast in an arc 2,400 km (1,500 mi) long. Its western anchor, Nanga Parbat, lies just south of the northernmost bend of the Indus river.
Answer:
India and Bhutan are probably the only two countries in the world separated by a sewage drain. At Phuentsholing, Bhutan's second largest town and biggest border hub, a tall gate carved with traditional Buddhist motifs stands guard to the Himalayan state, which in the circles of honey-eyed Western tourists has earned itself the epithet: 'The Last Shangri-La'. If you run your eyes further along the boundary though, that rectangular channel of filth and refuse is all that it takes to demarcate these two vastly different civilizations.
Towards the south is the Jaigaon (that is to the left of the drain if you are facing west), a trading town in the Indian state of West Bengal and an embodiment of all that is over the top about our post-liberalization lives—cantankerous streets, entangled wires, aluminum fronts and messy commerce. On the right, stands the Bhutanese cousin Phuentsholing (alternatively spelt as Phuntsholing and pronounced in either case as Phoon-sh-ling) still largely retaining its carefully preserved character.
As in the rest of the country, buildings have to conform to a strict architectural code and all citizens working in or visiting any of the government offices have strict injunctions to stick to the respective national dresses (a thick robe called gho for men and an ankle-length dress called kira for women). Probably, it is to escape all that disciplining that the residents of Phuentsholing flock to the bazaars of Jaikok (as a Bhutanese friend of mine labelled Jaigaon, in an allusion to the consumerist charms of the Thai capital) to indulge in all that animated haggling and cheap bargains.
The Toorsa river, which goes on to nurture the plains of Dooars in Bengal, passes through Phuentsholing. One evening as the monsoon clouds part to betray the first signs of sunset, I walk up a few flights of stairs towards the Kharbandi Goempa (monastery). From a vantage point located on the way, I can see the river's grey stream widening to fuse with the horizon. Flanking its course are the concrete anthills of Jaigaon and low lush expanse of plains on one bank and endless uninhabited mountains on the other—probably a fitting duality to represent the two South Asian nation