Kumtabi Village Pauri Garhwal

Kumtabi village in Pauri Garhwal quarter returns to me through the lowest recollections. The सीढ़ीनुमा खेत spread gently across the hills, near जंगल stood still around the village, and bitsy flowing गदेरे carried that soft mountain sounds all day long. I still flash back the ठंडी हवा of early mornings, distant पक्षियों की आवाज, and the slow village noises beginning vocally before the सूरज reached the hills. Indeed now, the place carries a strange warmth inside me.  

 

Most times I travelled through Kotdwar railway station, which is around 75–85 km away depending on मौसम and road conditions. From the roadside बाजार area, locals mostly used shared jeeps and local buses to reach villages like Kumtabi. The curved mountain roads passed through चीड़ के जंगल, and sunlight kept falling across the sharp मोड़ while the smell of pine stayed in the cool हवा during the whole journey. 

The mornings there started beforehand without noise or hurry. Before sun completely touched the पहाड़ी pitches, people were formerly walking toward the terraced granges carrying टोकरियाँ, खेती के औजार, and ropes for lawn packets. Wheat, मंडुवा, धान, beats, vegetables, and seasonal fruits covered different layers of the खेत. tilling there still followed traditional organic styles, and utmost families trusted पुरानी खेती practices more than chemical husbandry.  

 

One autumn I sat beside a small gravestone wall while a senior planter sluggishly gutted lately gathered सब्जियाँ near his field. hard, two women returned from the जंगल carrying heavy घास packets on their tails while talking vocally about the changing मौसम. The smell of wet मिट्टी, fresh lawn, and near गौशाला stayed in the cool air around us. 

Cattle rearing and dairy work were deeply connected with everyday village life. Fresh दूध, दही, and homemade घी came directly from household cattle, and people regularly walked into nearby forests for चारा collection. Even ordinary chores somehow moved with the slow rhythm of the mountains. 

During Harela and Ghughutiya, the village atmosphere became softly lively without becoming loud. I still remember hearing लोक गीत during Makar Sankranti while elders sat together outside old पत्थर वाले घर during the cold evening hours. People also spoke hypercritically about Nanda Devi Jaat and aged पहाड़ी traditions connected with the region. Evening कहानी सुनाना still happed naturally there, and respect toward बुजुर्ग still shaped village life. 

Near the older side of Kumtabi stood a small ancient मंदिर with faded brass घंटियाँ hanging quietly above worn stone steps. I once sat there during शाम की आरती while incense smoke slowly mixed with the cold mountain हवा moving through nearby trees. 

Behind the village, narrow जंगल trails opened toward hidden viewpoints overlooking valleys and distant पहाड़. I still remember stopping near one natural झरना where the water stayed ice cold even during afternoon sunlight. The sound of flowing पानी and rustling leaves made the whole place feel untouched. 

The food there carried the real taste of the hills. Mandua roti, भट्ट की दाल, झंगोरा dishes, fresh दही, local herbs, and slow-cooked सब्जियाँ tasted deeply comforting after long uphill walks. One family also showed me handmade ऊनी shawls and old लकड़ी के kitchen tools still used daily inside their home. 

The स्लेट वाली छत houses and narrow पत्थर के रास्ते gave Kumtabi its old mountain character. During evening walks, my footsteps echoed softly across the worn stones while oak wood smoke drifted slowly from nearby रसोई. That smell stayed in the cold night air long after darkness covered the hills. 

Kumtabi stayed with me because nothing there felt rushed or artificial. The silence, जंगल, terraced hills, and simple पहाड़ी routines quietly settled somewhere deep inside me over time. Even now, I sometimes remember turning back once while leaving the village road behind the trees, just to look at the hills one last time.