No Doubt Northeast Is Beautiful. So Is My Mom

After my father’s passing, it was evident that my mother was trying to navigate a new chapter of life while carrying the weight of grief.

Like many parents, she rarely spoke about her emotions openly. Instead, she carried on with her daily routines, quietly adjusting to a life that had changed forever.

I realised that what she needed was not advice or answers, but time, space, and a change of scenery.

So, I suggested a trip to Northeast India.

What began as a simple journey soon became something much more meaningful.

It gave us the opportunity to step away from our routines, share conversations we had never had before, and understand each other in ways we hadn’t expected.

After almost 6 months of the episode of my fathers demise, i planned a small trip to Guwahati, Shillong, Cherapunjee & Imphal to cheer my mother to blow out of the daily pain and see the new world with her son. So i booked the flights from Delhi to Guwahati and return.

Not a grand vacation.

Just a journey for a mother and son.

I booked our flights from Delhi to Guwahati and planned a route through Guwahati, Shillong, Cherrapunji, Dawki, Mawlynnong, and Imphal. My intention was simple: to take her away from familiar walls, familiar memories, and familiar pain.

On the second day of Diwali, the mother-and-son duo boarded a flight to Guwahati.

As always, I had planned everything in advance. A driver was waiting at the airport, ready to take us on our Northeast adventure.

My mother is deeply religious, so our first stop was the sacred Kamakhya Temple.

Perhaps it was faith.

Perhaps it was the change of scenery.

Perhaps it was simply time.

But something started changing within her.

For the first time in months, I saw her smile without forcing it.

After seeking blessings at Kamakhya, we began our journey towards Shillong.

Shillong welcomed us with cool weather, winding roads, and a calmness that felt completely different from the noise of Delhi. We spent time around Umiam Lake, a vast stretch of water surrounded by rolling hills. Sitting beside the lake and watching the stillness around us felt therapeutic. Sometimes healing does not come through words. It comes through silence, fresh air, and a view that allows you to slow down.

But this was never just a sightseeing trip.

It was about the person travelling beside me.

She noticed the greenery. She enjoyed the changing landscape. She became curious about local food. She looked at the lake with wonder and, perhaps for the first time in months, looked at herself differently too.

The morning flight to Guwahati, the blessings at Kamakhya Temple, and the long drive to Shillong had already created a wave of positivity.

And that was exactly the goal.

From Shillong, we travelled to Cherrapunji, one of the wettest places on earth. Clouds drifted through the hills, waterfalls appeared unexpectedly along the roads, and every turn revealed another breathtaking view. Cherrapunji did not feel like a destination. It felt like nature reminding us how beautiful simplicity can be.

One of the highlights of our journey was Mawlynnong, often called the cleanest village in Asia. What impressed me was not just its cleanliness but the discipline and pride of the people who lived there. Every corner reflected care, respect, and a sense of community.

We also visited Dawki, famous for the crystal-clear waters of the Umngot River. Looking down from the riverbank, the boats appeared to float in the air because the water was so transparent. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had seen in India.

Yet what I remember most is not the river.

It is my mother’s face.

Her excitement.

Her curiosity.

Her willingness to enjoy the moment.

No doubt Northeast is beautiful. So is my mom.

But do you know what is even more beautiful?

Watching someone slowly rediscover the joy of living.

For months after my father’s passing, I had seen her carry grief quietly. She continued doing everything that needed to be done, but there was a difference between existing and truly living.

Somewhere during this journey, that began to change.

It was visible in the way she admired the hills, in the curiosity with which she explored local markets, in the excitement of trying unfamiliar food, and in the enthusiasm with which she asked about the places we would visit next.

The smile returned first.

Then came the conversations.

Then came the plans.

And finally came the confidence to enjoy life without feeling guilty for doing so.

That was the moment I realised something important. My mother was not trying to forget the pain. She was learning how to live alongside it.

The strongest people are not those who never break. They are the ones who find the courage to begin again after they do.

Standing there in the hills of Meghalaya, I realised my mother was doing exactly that.

I have never claimed to be a perfect son.

In fact, I know I am not.

But I do have empathy for my mother, and seeing her regain her smile brought happiness into my own heart as well.

Within a few days, her charm and smile had returned.

The Northeast gave her something she desperately needed.

A reason to look forward again.

A reason to be curious again.

A reason to live again.

The journey then took us to Imphal.

Despite the restrictions, protests, and tensions that existed at the time, Imphal became meaningful for a completely different reason.

Not because of the places we visited.

But because my mother had found solace, and I had found a deeper understanding of her.

We visited several temples across the city and spent time together. Looking back, the most memorable journeys are rarely the ones where you see the most places.

They are the ones where you understand the people beside you a little better.

When we finally returned to Delhi via Guwahati, both of us had changed in our own ways.

My mother had rediscovered her smile.

And I had rediscovered my mother.

After my father’s passing, we learned something important.

People will leave.

That is the nature of life.

But you always have yourself.

And sometimes, a journey through Northeast India reminds you that life, despite its pain, is still worth living.