Bombay Road – The Place Where Gods and Angels Live

 

We recently stumbled upon a hidden gem in Sikkim — a valley called Bombay Road. The name itself carries history; the place was christened after an army battalion from Bombay that camped here, probably back in the 1990s. Tucked away in Nathang, in the eastern part of Sikkim, Bombay Road is not just a valley — it feels like another world.

Nathang has always been one of our favorite escapes, partly because it lies so close to our homestay, Ashraya Boutique Homestay. Over the years, we’ve visited Nathang countless times — its rugged charm and high-altitude silence never fail to pull us back. But this trip turned out different. The place we usually stayed at was shut for the off-season, so we booked a new homestay. We were there on assignment for a brand shoot, and since we knew Nathang inside out, we already had everything planned.

We reached our host’s place early in the morning, just in time for breakfast. As steaming cups of tea and warm food were being served, our kind host casually asked about the purpose of our visit. We explained our project and shared how much we loved Nathang, especially during monsoon when the valley turns into a blue paradise with wildflowers carpeting the landscape. We admitted that we had arrived a little late this year and missed the bloom.

That’s when she smiled, reached for her phone, scrolled through her gallery, and showed us a picture. "This is Bombay Road right now,” she said.

The photo left us speechless — a valley drenched in yellow wildflowers, stretching endlessly, with Mt. Kanchendzonga watching over it. The sight was ethereal. She looked at us and added softly, “Bhagwan ani pari basnay jaga ho yo — this is the place where gods and angels live.”

And just like that, our plans changed. We had to see this place.

First Encounter with Bombay Road

After breakfast, we set out for a recce. Bombay Road is just ten minutes from Nathang village, but as fate would have it, the weather turned against us. By the time we reached, it had started to pour. Fog rolled in, and Kanchendzonga disappeared behind a heavy veil. Still, even in the worst possible conditions for shooting, the valley looked breathtaking — yellow wildflowers in full bloom swayed gently in the rain.

It poured harder, so we decided to return to the homestay. The rain didn’t stop the entire day. Maybe, we thought, you need patience to witness God’s finest creations.

Waiting for the Right Moment

The next morning, Nathang greeted us with more rain. This is monsoon in Sikkim — relentless yet strangely comforting. We stayed in bed until breakfast, the weather outside cool and misty. But an hour later, the skies started to clear. Without wasting time, we packed our gear and rushed back to Bombay Road.

As soon as we reached the top, fog came rushing in again. The valley was veiled, Mt. Kanchendzonga remained hidden. But instead of frustration, a sense of calm took over. We decided to make the most of it.

The valley looked magical with the sunbeams playing hide-and-seek through the mist. Yaks grazed on distant hills, birds filled the silence with songs, and a cool breeze carried the scent of pure mountain air. We put down our cameras, lay on the ground, and simply stared at the shifting sky.

Sometimes in life, you just let go of your plans. You stop chasing, stop capturing, stop running — and just be. That moment was one of those rare pauses when time slows, goals vanish, and life feels like it’s being observed from a distance. For the first time in a long time, it felt like God was truly present around us.

When the Valley Revealed Itself

Just as we thought nothing could top that stillness, the valley transformed again. The weather cleared. Low golden sunlight spilled across the wildflowers, setting the entire field aglow like molten gold. A yak farmer appeared in search of his rebellious yak. We exchanged a few words and pointed him further along the trail. He told us that beyond the ridge, one could catch a glorious view of Mt. Kanchendzonga.

And so, we hiked.

What awaited us was beyond anything we had seen in years of traveling through our own backyard. Sikkim, though small in size, thrives on tourism, and most of its beauty is known, promoted, and shared widely. But Bombay Road felt untouched, like a secret deliberately kept from the world.

As the golden hour deepened, the valley turned otherworldly. The yellow wildflowers glistened like fields of treasure. The sound of yak bells echoed like temple prayers announcing a sacred ritual. Above, the clouds broke just enough to reveal a fleeting glimpse of the mighty Kanchendzonga.

I wanted to raise my camera, capture every frame, and immortalize the moment. But no lens, no sensor, no photograph can ever truly replicate what the human eye witnesses. Some moments are not meant to be seized — they’re meant to be lived.

That day, Bombay Road carved itself into my memory — not as a location, but as an experience.
A place where time slows.
A place where silence speaks.
A place where gods and angels live.

Bombay Road — Bhagwan ani pari basnay jaga.

check out our vlog