Hiking among clouds and time: A walk across Meghalaya’s ancient plateau

The name Meghalaya, coined by Shiba Prasad Chatterjee, an Indian geographer who taught at the University of Calcutta, is a combination of two Sanskrit words — ‘megha’ (cloud) and ‘ā-laya’ (abode).

An apt description for a region known for receiving the highest rainfall on the planet, particularly along the southern portion of the plateau, which acts as a barrier to the moisture-laden monsoon winds from the Bay of Bengal. The barrier forces the warm wind to ascend, debouching the moisture it carries over a wide region which stretches all the way from Mawsynram to Sohra.

Over the years, these two locations have competed for the record of receiving the highest annual rainfall — over 1,000 cm.

Sohra is much more well-known than its competitor, as it is the site where the British first established their headquarters, heralding the beginning of the recorded history of the Khasis. It has many historical sites associated with the colonial past along with innumerable waterfalls and a couple of caves which attract a lot of tourists throughout the year.

Mawsynram is a less celebrated location and does not attract as many visitors. But it has some breathtaking attractions, which include the longest sandstone cave in the world, “three times the height of Mount Everest”.

Last week, I, along with my friend, arrived in Mawsynram to hike and explore the landscape, which included the aforementioned Krem Puri or ‘Cave of the Fairies’ in the local Khasi language.

We arrived at Mawsynram on a Saturday. By a stroke of good luck, it was also the market day, and the place was full of people selling a myriad of items which ranged from second-hand clothes, varying sizes of bamboo baskets, distinct accessories, various kinds of agricultural produce, and metal works of different varieties.

A lot of the sellers were street vendors who laid their ware on the narrow footpath on both sides of the road. We followed the main road and made our way to the guesthouse, which was at the outer edge of the village (Mawsynram is an overgrown village, recording a population of over 2,500 in the 2011 Census).

My friend had already booked the place, and it took little time for us to deposit our baggage in the room and get ready for the hike. We had to go back to the market. This time around, we took the route through the lanes that ran alongside the houses to save time.

What was so fascinating about these small lanes were the many houses on either side that had practically no walls separating one house from the other. Some houses were beautiful, and it was apparent that the occupants were well-off.

Despite this, many of them had either very low walls (just over a foot high) or no walls at all, with the verandah of the house merging with the common path used by the people for walking. One could very well see whatever was happening inside their neighbour’s house just by sitting in the doorway of their own.

Houses of the poor and rich stood side by side, with vendors using the premises of some homes to sell their goods. Despite class differences, community solidarity remained strong. Navigating through these lanes, we arrived at the market from where we started our hike towards the cave.

It took us more than an hour and a half to reach the location, following the road to Balat, a village on the Bangladesh border. As we walked, we noticed the landscape changing from relatively flat grassland to steep slopes covered by tropical evergreen forest. The smaller stature of the trees near the road indicated recent growth, but the trees along the steeper sections were taller.

As for the grasslands, these were the product of centuries of deforestation which accompanied the iron smelting industry. Several sandstone boulders over 10 feet in both width and height near the PWD office served as another reminder of the widespread degradation the industry had wrought upon the landscape. Previously buried, they now stand exposed, the soil having been washed away by the heavy rainfall and deposited into present-day Bangladesh.

This enriched the plains but impoverished the hills. It is, therefore, not a surprise that farming is almost absent in the plateau where the impact of deforestation was the most acute. This included the village of Mawsynram, where people are now engaged in trade and other non-agricultural activities.

Iron slag deposits scattered throughout the area reveal the historical importance of iron smelting to the local economy. In fact, we found a large heap of iron slag near the signboard that announced, “Welcome to Krem Puri, Laitsohum Village, Nonglwai Sirdarship, Longest Cave in the World.”

After passing the sign, we followed a concrete path for a few meters, which then turned into a stone path with steps. As we descended, the path gave way at certain points, and we had to get on all fours, clinging to exposed tree roots to maintain balance.

The stone steps soon disappeared entirely, and the path became progressively narrower with a steep cliff wall on the right and a deep gorge on the left. Along the way, we found giant ferns and palm trees — known as Dieng Tlai in the local language — that stood over 40 feet tall and were heavy with fruit.

A large river flowed along the canyon, and on the other side was the next watershed, where we could see settlements straddling the spurs. The landscape reminded me of the Taiwanese movie, Warriors of the Rainbow: Seediq Bale, which depicts aboriginal warriors resisting the imperial Japanese occupation of their land.

We soon came across the entrance to a cave which looked very foreboding. It was literally a large, dark hole in the ground. We wondered if this was the Krem Puri cave. There was no signboard, and therefore we continued walking. Not long after, we encountered a bridge constructed under MGNREGA in 2023.

We crossed it, and soon enough, we found the cave, which had a much wider entrance than the one we had seen earlier. We entered, and as our eyes adjusted to the low light, we saw that it had two passageways. The shapes of the walls were a telltale sign that the cave had been carved by the action of water over a very long period of time. The temperature inside was much cooler, and when I exhaled, my breath turned into vapour, drifting in front of me like wispy smoke.

Since the passageways were narrow and dark, we decided not to take any risk as we didn’t have the proper equipment. It was only later we came to know that the cave was closed for tourists.

On the way back, we entered the first cave we had previously avoided. Since our eyes had adjusted to the low light, we soon discovered a large chamber at the bottom. We clambered down the sandstone boulders and saw two passageways, one on each side. They appeared to connect to the main cave we had left earlier, but we decided against venturing into them.

It was an eerie atmosphere, and I imagined a bear or perhaps Dracula leaping from the shadows, bent on devouring us for disturbing their domain. There were none, but on the roof of the cave, we found carnivorous worms that had spun sticky threads to trap insects. These threads were hanging from the wall, waiting to ensnare the unfortunate victims.

We also found an enormous spider that had spun its web diagonally across two boulders, rather than forming the typical concentric pattern commonly seen in the open. After spending some time in the cave, we climbed back into the open and started heading back to the road.

We made our way through the giant ferns and massive palm trees, climbed by holding on to tree roots, returned to the stone steps, and reached the entrance where we had previously found the heap of iron slag.

And after walking for over two hours, we finally reached Mawsynram and made our way to the guesthouse — exhausted, but content, with beautiful memories to take back home and plenty of pictures to share with our friends.

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