At last, I was free from all the worries of Delhi as I boarded a flight to Shillong, thanks to a very interesting driver called Sukh Chain Singh. He had been my taxi driver during my Delhi days at The Park Hotel — a slim, medium-sized Sardar Ji who drove me to the airport so that I could take my flight to Shillong.

I had decided to do a trip across the Seven Sisters, and my starting point was going to be Shillong. “Yeh naam aap kabhi nahi bhool sakte, Sir,” he said as he zipped me through Delhi traffic on the way to the airport. The air was breezy, and it had been raining across the city; the rains followed me all the way to Shillong. This was the beginning of my journey across the Seven Sisters.

I stayed at a lakeside resort called Ri Kynjai, nestled in the rainy hills of Shillong. I was lucky that the rains had followed me; the view of the lake was soothing, and the cool, fresh air was relaxing. I had left Delhi behind. I did nothing but sit and stare at the view. My mind was blank, and I noticed I had started talking to myself quite a lot. I would leave my room early for breakfast, just so that I could get some fresh air.

I had also made friends during my stay at The Park in Delhi. One of them was a hairdresser from Shillong, who suggested that she knew a travel guide who could take me around Shillong and even up to Cherrapunji.

Ding Dong Its Shillong

My first stop was Laitlum Grand Canyon. Shillong has always called out to the eccentric traveler in me — a city where the mist hangs heavy, the pine trees whisper secrets, and the rhythm of life slows down just enough for you to hear your own thoughts. On this trip, my wanderer’s compass led me to this Grand Canyon, one of the most breathtaking spots in Meghalaya.

The drive itself was half the adventure: narrow roads winding past sleepy Khasi villages, the scent of pine in the air, and clouds that seemed close enough to touch. Unlike the American Grand Canyon, which is all desert vastness, Laitlum is a canyon wrapped in clouds and green velvet hills. The name literally means “End of the Hills.” And standing there, you feel exactly that — as if the earth itself falls away into infinity.

Standing at the edge of the world, the winds howled like some ancient spirit. One step closer to the edge, and the valley opened up — endless ridges, deep gorges, rivers glistening like silver threads far below. For a moment, I wasn’t Anuj Tikku the eccentric author, or even Anuj the lonely traveler. I was just a speck standing at the tip of the universe.

The locals say the canyon is a place where the living and the spirits meet. Looking down into that mist-filled abyss, I almost believed it. From the top, a trekking trail snakes down to the villages hidden deep in the canyon. I looked a few steps down, each one echoing with the thought: “Here, one wrong step and you vanish into myth.” That danger, that raw closeness to death, made the experience electric.

Unlike most tourist spots, Laitlum Grand Canyon is not very crowded. You don’t hear selfie sticks clattering — you hear the winds, your heartbeat, and the silence of the mountains. Travel for me has always been about standing at the border between the known and the unknown. The Laitlum Grand Canyon is exactly that. It’s not just a place on a map — it’s a reminder that the world is vast, that beauty can be terrifying, and that life is lived most fully at the edges.