readersdigest.co.in 129confusion, and voila, we saw them—
two amber glowing saucers. Another
minute and a shape emerged—a pert
nose, long body and an incredibly
foxlike red furry tail: a Hodgson’s
giant flying squirrel, high up in the
treetop, moving on impossibly thin
branches. The frogmouth, an expert at
camouflage, proved elusive, although
ph his call sounded close enough.
ot
o:
(l
ef
t)
le
en
a^ t
ew
ar
i;^
(to
p)
in
di
ap
ic
tu
re
A while later, we spied another pair
of glowing eyes—the Malay squirrel,
brown-backed with a buff underbelly.
Fortunately, the Himalayan bears
were still in hibernation—it would not
have been pleasant to be surprised by
one of them on our nocturnal jaunt.
On our last night, in Sengkor, it
rained all evening and the night
temperature dropped to –6ºC. The
moisture on our tent turned to ice and
sent frigid waves inwards. We made
it through the night with woollen
scarves wrapped around our faces,
layers of warm clothing and our trusty
hot-water bottles.
The next morning, looking out
towards the idyllic landscape and a
glorious dawn, I was suddenly struck
by the thought of the Bhutanese
philosophy of reincarnation, human
or otherwise. We were left floating in
an unimaginable sense of freedom.AS THE MIST LIFTED,
I COUNTED SEVEN
HILL RANGES—THE
NEAREST A VERDANT
GREEN, THE FURTHEST
AN ASHY GREY.A colourful mask dance performance
during the annual Paro tshechu (festival)