Mist, Roots & Memories: Nandu’s Meghalaya Love Story with Thrillophilia

It all began with a wooden box she had eyed months ago at a flea market that was carved with intricate flowers and vines. I had secretly bought it that day, and on the morning of our anniversary, I placed a folded itinerary inside.

She opened it slowly, expecting maybe a bracelet or a note.

“Meghalaya?” she whispered, eyes widening. “Wait... we are going?”

“Tomorrow,” I smiled.

A week in the ‘Abode of Clouds’ - just us, nature, and a promise we had made long ago to always explore life together. 

The Road to Pines and Peace

In April 2025, Guwahati greeted us with mild heat and honking taxis. But as we drove towards Shillong, the air grew lighter, the skies darker, and the mountains began to whisper.

We checked in, left our bags, and wandered around the city. At Phan Nonglait Park, kids chased kites under rustling pine trees and played on swings. The Rhino Heritage Museum gave us a glimpse into a past that felt oddly familiar, yet new.

Over dinner, my wife looked out the window at the hills and said, “It already feels like we are walking inside a painting.”

And just like that, the city girl I married melted into the quiet magic of Meghalaya.

Cascades and Caves

The next morning, we set out for the day early in the morning. Our first stop was the Elephant Falls. When we reached there, we were surprised to see that the water cascaded in three tiers and created a constant and calming rhythm.

By the time we reached Cherrapunji, the rain had begun. It was drizzling at first, but then it got heavier. We stood at Seven Sisters Waterfalls without any umbrellas and soaked and laughed like teenagers.

But it was NohKaLikai Falls that made her silent. We read the story behind the name, and something about the mist felt heavier than water. She slipped her hand into mine and held it a little tighter.

Later, Arwah and Mawsmai caves felt like nature’s secret. As we moved through limestone tunnels with torchlight bouncing off wet rocks, we both realised we had not checked our phones in hours.

The Bridge That Tied It All Together

The Nongriat trek was not for the faint-hearted, and definitely not for two people who spent most of their days in office chairs. But we did it anyway.

3,500 steps down to the Double Decker Living Root Bridge felt both challenging and surreal. The roots twisted around each other like vines from an ancient love story. People passed by, breathless, some were surprised, while others were struggling.

When we reached the bridge, we sat down beside a stream, with our shoes off and feet dipped in cold water. Neither of us spoke for a long time.

“I don’t think I have ever felt this alive,” she said, finally.

I nodded. The silence between us was full of shared surprises and knowing that this memory would live forever.

Although our legs ached that night, our hearts felt lighter.

Glass Rivers and Cleanest Dreams

The next destination was Mawlynnong. Known as the cleanest village in Asia, it felt like someone had hand-combed every leaf, swept every path, and painted every flower to perfection. There, we sipped local tea on bamboo stools and watched life go by at a gentle pace.

The trek to the Single Decker Root Bridge at Riwai was shorter but just as enchanting. The bridge stood firm, alive, and humming with history. Nearby, the Balancing Rock stood on its tiny base like a miracle defying logic.

And then we drove to Dawki.

If Mawlynnong was a dream, Dawki was a painting. The Umngot River was so clear that the boats looked like they floated on air. We leaned over the bridge and watched the fish swim and the world reflect in the water.

We had our dinner early and sat by the river with our feet dangling from a low dock and watching stars blink into view.

Hidden Gems and Golden Light

The next day, Shnongpdeng offered a chance to kayak, but we chose boating instead as it was slower and gentler. Just us and the sound of oars cutting through crystal water.

Krang Shuri Falls was our next stop. Its blue water, white spray, and green canopies were a slice of paradise. We dipped our hands in and laughed like kids.

But the Laitlum Canyon stole the show. The sun was setting when we got there, and the trail down was bathed in golden light. As we sat on a ledge, the valley below looked like it went on forever.

“This place,” she whispered, “makes me feel like we are so small and yet… not insignificant.”

Back in Shillong, we packed slowly that night and were unwilling to leave.

The Temple and the Thank You

Our final stop was Kamakhya Devi Temple in Guwahati. People say it is powerful, mystical, and sacred. We walked up the steps hand-in-hand. There, we offered our prayers and watched the sunrise paint the sky in vermilion and gold.

As we drove to the airport, my wife looked at me and smiled.

“You planned this whole thing?”

I nodded.

“And I thought the wooden box was romantic,” she teased.

Read More: Thrillophilia Meghalaya Reviews