Every autumn, as the beats of dhaak begin to fill the air and dew-drenched shiuli flowers carpet your path, Calcutta starts emptying, with the Bengali traveller reaching instinctively for a predictable map: Darjeeling, Kalimpong, Sikkim, Himachal, Kashmir, perhaps Bhutan or Nepal. Hills that have almost become an annual pilgrimage destination.
But there was a time when the holiday map was far less monotonous. McCluskieganj, Kiriburu and Meghahatuburu, Netarhat, Daringbadi, Tulin and Simultala were some of the locations that could ignite a travel dream. These were not tourist spots to be ‘conquered’ in 72 hours, photographed at every turn and ticked off a package itinerary. They were places to linger and soak in.
McCluskieganj was once a Bengali holidaymaker’s paradise. Nestled amid the forests of Jharkhand, this Anglo-Indian settlement near Ranchi was blessed with quiet roads, red earth, tree-shaded bungalows, mist and afternoons free of social media madness.
Kiriburu and Meghahatuburu rose like green islands from the iron-ore pocket of Singhbhum. We needed to book the Steel Authority of India Limited guesthouse or a forest bungalow months in advance. The forests, valleys and serene sunsets ensured a memorable hill retreat. Today, mining, changing travel patterns and the absence of a sustained tourism narrative have pushed these places to the margins. Yet the landscape remains compelling. Why don’t the authorities curate forest stays and mining-and-tribal heritage trails, with local communities as hosts rather than spectators?
Netarhat, once hailed as the ‘Queen of Chotanagpur’, belongs to another Bengali holiday memory: pine trees, red earth, misty mornings, leisurely sunsets, and the sense of slowing down. It lost ground as better-connected luxury destinations multiplied and holidaymakers began seeking Instagram-ready experiences. Its reinvention could offer precisely the opposite: quiet eco-stays, birding trails, forest walks, local food and responsible tourism.
Daringbadi, in Odisha’s Kandhamal highlands, still has pine forests, coffee gardens, waterfalls and misty valleys. Known as the ‘Kashmir of Odisha’, it nevertheless has slithered out of Puja holiday choices for many Bengalis. Curated road circuits from Brahmapur, coffee-and-spice trails, indigenous cultural interpretation, village homestays and nature guides could bring it back into our collective holiday imagination. All it needs is storytelling.
Then there is Tulin, almost a whisper on the Purulia-Jharkhand border. Its undulating plateau, river, forests and proximity to the Chotanagpur landscape once made it an enriching escape for families seeking a few days of the autumn sun and hill air not far from the Bengal heartland. Others opted for Simultala, celebrated as a health resort and the ‘mini-Shimla’ of Bihar, defined by dense sal foliage and hillocks. These were the landscapes that generations of Bengali poets and writers evoked as the paschim (west).
Bengal's tourism authorities still acknowledge the western plateau’s hills, forests, tribal culture and tranquillity as assets. Perhaps that is the point. We have not run out of hills; we have run out of imagination, the kind Henry David Thoreau’s Walden inspired!
Today, hill tourism implies turning every beautiful bend into selfie points, loud music, plastic waste and ubiquitous cafés. The forgotten hills could be reinvented through homestays, reliable transport, clean facilities, trained local guides, craft and food trails.
Durga Puja is about homecoming. Instead of joining the annual exodus to familiar hills, we could come home to quieter, less commercialised peaks. To gradients where the mist mesmerises, the forest still whispers and the road itself is part of the journey. Perhaps, in that silence, rediscover why the mountains beckon so persuasively.