Impressing is your job, expressing is mine.

(The streets of Thimpu)

And then there's the view- just below the railing on the lower road- pine trees in the foreground, the Thimpu Chhu (Chhu is the local word for river) flowing just a few meters away and hills on the other side- a photographer's dream. And the cold constant breeze hitting your cheeks,and making your feet cold inside your shoes.

The most pleasing thing about Thimpu- as with the rest of Bhutan- is the calm. No one honks, no one screams and no one abuses at fellow drivers- a far cry from our cities and the traffic jams. The police is efficient, it enjoys an authoritarian status. And so is the municipality, giving Thimpu a rare combination- beautiful, clean and safe.Tobacco is banned in Bhutan, but you see occasionsl law breakers smoking in corners. And the passerbys don't seem to notice them. They don't seem to notice much of anything, not even tourists with handycams.

The children, though, are extremely camera shy. They'll smile at you, and wish you "Kudzuzambola" and let you pinch their cheeks. The moment you take out your camera, they giggle and run away.

The people are universally beautiful with pink cheeks, chinky eyes and thick black hair as straight as pine needles. One doesnt bathe much in Thimpu, but then one doesn't sweat much. Nor does one dare risking his life in the near freezing water.

The national dress, something that was, and still is, much prided upon is barely seen on the streets. It's limited to work and school and taxi-drivers (they are fined 600 Ngultrums, equal to 600 rupess, if they don't wear the Bakhkhu). The teens wear an air of style around them, with a certain hip-hop culture imbibed into their clothing.What surprises you is the perfect gender equalty and work division. Women selling billets at parking lots, girls filling up your tank at petrol pumps and girls single-handedly running internet cafes and videogame parlors and bars and restaurants. Women rule. There isn't such a thing as eve-teasing in Bhutan.

A visit to the mini-zoo near the newly set up TV tower perched on the top of a hill, overlooking Thimpu gave us a rare glimpse of the Takin- Bhutan's national animal and an endangered species. The Takin looks like a Gnu and its very gentle, so gentle you could count its teeth and have your fingers intact. Shy and timid, it barely climbs down to present itself to the tourists, who have to contend themselves with the red deer and the panoramic view of Thimpu. We were lucky enough to get the Takin on tape.

(The Takin, I actually got to pet it)

The royalty seems a little cut off from the rest of the population when you look at the palace. You see the elite practising archery-the national sport and riding about in posh cars, and though you believe in egalite, you feel a sense of awe for the monarchy rising from within you.

Night life in Thimpu is rocking, with new discotheques and pubs springing up.The youngsters flood the streets towards the evening- giving Thimpu a hep, happy look.

Dinner was Asparagus and red rice: terrific combo! Asparagus is another thing Bhutan is really famous for.Beer is dirt cheap, and a local favorite. It's best enjoyed with cooked pork or sun-dried meat and a gang of local friends, which we were lucky enough to gather.

The night in Thimpu was warm. Warm because we piled three blankets over ourselves and rolled into balls. Winter would have been terrible, when temperature drops below freezing point.

The next day morning was foggy, and we were set to head for Paro- another major tourist destination in the country and the only airport. Students poured into the streets of the capital- looking smart ion their Bakhkhus and Kiras, and rosy cheeks and pine-staright hair. And to my surprise, some actually smiled into the camera, walked towards it and smeared my lens with their curious fingerprints. But what the heck- atleast they smiled!

Even the stray dogs in Thimpu are amazingly good looking. Big, black, hary, dirty and gentle, they would tempt any cameraman. I gave in to the temptation, and my friends chided me for making a 'Dog-umentary'.

We left for Paro in an Omni. The road was under construction and our driver Thinley probably under an attack of excitement, because he rattled us off at 80 kilometres per hours on a ever-winding road too small for two vehicles to pass at a time. And twice he alsmost dropped us off the cliff, almost taking us through a fast trip of the gorge into the Sunkosh.

But then, as you near Paro and you look around, you stop thinking of accidents and deaths. You close your eyes and thank the creator for creating such a beautiful sight. Once you descend into the valley, the road runs parallel to the Paro Chhu. The sun was mild, the air was calm and there were poppies on the banks, just meters outside the window. And mouth-watering green paddy fields across the river. And I thought if Shangri-La was a valley, Hilton must have been referring to Paro. And if I were doomed to die in an Omni in vicinity of this divine sight, I wouldn't have to travel far to find paradise.

We had no clue of what to do in Paro. So we walked around at random in the streets. Everyone seemed to be chewing 'Doma' a local variety of paan, which to me smells horrible but seemd to be a local favorite. And people seemd to smile at us more than they did in Thimpu.

Deciding we were hungry, we stepped into a certain Hotel Penjorling. We seemd to be the only customers and the only source of sound. The restaurant was dead calm, except for the TV playing softly in the corner.But what was more noticable about the corner was a cutely-set cabin with a warning sign outside that said "Adam and Eve's corner". We smiled at it, and I vowed to myself that I'd get in there with someone as sweet as the cabin itself someday.

The waiter spoke to us at 20 decibels and I was surprised actually heard him. We ordered Emma-Datchhi, the national dish with red rice and waited eagerly. Emma is a variety of big local chilly and Datchhi is a unique local cheese strained from raw milk that you get only in Bhutan and neighboring places. Our order took a hundred years to come. What we got was small green fiery chillies cooked in supermarket cheese. Scary!, but it smelled wonderful.

We couldn't resist eating it and when we were done with it, our tongues were on fire. After gulping down a million glasses of water, I screamed for dessert. There was none! No ice-cream, no fruit salad, no Mithai!

I yelled at the waiter to get us something to pacify us. Within minutes, he brought us watermelon chopped and bathed in yogurt- no original Bhutanese dish, but an ad-hoc recipe invented to keep customers alive. And looking back, I have never had a more delectable lunch. I drool till date when I think of those tiny green chillies creamed with cheese. And I tried dipping watermelon in yogurt a couple of times, but it never tasted as good as it had that day.

We decied to forego a visit to the Drugyal Dzong- Paro's famed museum- a sin no tourist dares commit. We decided to head to Takshang. Thinley was still hanging around at the only taxi-stand and offered to take us to the base for an amount enough to feed a dozen people.

Now, Takshang Lakhang is a monastery, and a mystery. The name means "Tiger's Nest", and it is perched near the top of an almost vertical slope of a black granite hill. Locals say it wasn't built by humans. It is believed to have been built by Guru Rinpoche (Padmasambha) himself, when he flew there in a tigress. Others say it was built by Zhabdrung Ngwang Namgyal, one of the founders of Bhutan, sat here to meditate. Others say it was completed by the Zhabdrung.

Bhutan's history beyond the last 100 years or so is shrouded in myth and mystery. It's been a hundred years since the currents dynasty has been ruling. The fifth king sits in the throne now. And he is probably one of the handsomest kings ever, as was his father. But no one, not even the British have much documents about what happended in this kingdon prior to that. The national flag has a dragon on it till date.

Whatever it be, Thinley dropped us at the highest place a vehicle could go and showed us Takshang on the high hill oposite- majestic, breath-taking even from so far away and almost near the horizon. The first viewpoint is a 30-minute uphill road (or track) which most tourists climb on a mule. But mules are no fun, and also a little above the budget of tourists from a country as poor as ours. We decided to walk.. a shortcut that required walking at 90 degrees to sea level. Pausing for breaths in a wilderness thousands of feet above sea level, from where we could see neither top nor bottom but only pine trees, we finally reached the view point, exhausted and ashamed at our lack of stamina.

The moment we set our eyes on the Lakhang, still opposite to us, and still at the horizon, but looking bigger now, we were dumbstruck with wonder. How anyone could have built anything like that on a wall beat us, and i am sure it beat the otehr dozen European tourist staring at it, jaws dropping.

It is beautiful. It is so beatiful you will cry.

Takshang should be nominated for the seven wonders of the world. If there was one wonder, Takshang should be nominated for that too. On second thoughts, it shouldn't be. It's way out of this world. It defies physics, defies science, it defies all limits of beauty, and it defies understanding.

And at such a point, the battery in my camera drained out. After a near death experience arising out of dissapointment, I borrowed a camera froma an Austarlian tourist who was still trying to gather himself from the shock of the sight.

(To give you an idea of where the Lakhang's been built)

(The ex-king, H.M Jigme Singye Wangchuk)