When we crossed the threshold of Arunachal at Bhalokpong, a thin mist was creeping down the slopes of the fern and orchid clad hills. By the time we reached Bomdila, night had set well in. Apart from the halo around the story book chowkidar's lantern at the circuit house, the rest was nothingness. Imagine my surprise the next day, as I opened my eyes to the undulating green blue vistas of unending forests, punctuated by green roofed cottages and fluttering prayer flags.
Some mornings stay with you for life. This particular morning of speed sketching at the balcony of the Bomdila Circuit House, in the company of a number of Tibetan mastiff look-alike strays and cups and cups of the strong, sweet Assam tea would definitely be one of them.
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