Tucked deep in the rugged hills of Nagaland is Mon village. I have really taken to this place and have even extended my stay for a few days, as I truly wanted to soak in its majesty. My days here move at a very gentle pace. I am not guided by the clock, but by the rhythms of the village – the hiss of a cooking fire, the murmurs of conversations, village women drying clothes on rooftop wires, kids walking down the dusty slopes heading for school.

This is the hum of life, just drifting past me as I stand on the balcony, admiring the view of the entire village. I have a rooftop view and have been able to get some great pictures of the mountains.

In the morning, I gave instructions to my driver to buy twenty bullets worth ₹5,000 for my shooting expedition early next morning. I am really looking forward to that part of my trip.

The best thing about Mountain View Stay, which is run by Ani and her family, is that one gets a clear, panoramic hilltop view of the entire village, the valley, and even beyond. The lady is a great host and very hard working. She is working all day – cooking, serving, cleaning, drying clothes, or just feeding her pet dogs, two fabulous Dalmatians.

I was happy to be here, and I loved the way Ani would pamper me by offering cake, chocolate and chocolate pie to me for dessert. She would be slaving it out all day. I was really well looked after by Ani and co., and would recommend her homestay to every traveller who comes to or passes by Mon village.

Rice, fish curry and dal have been my staple diet here, and I love it. It’s keeping my stomach nice and trouble free. I do go for walks late in the evening, but only for half an hour; the rest of my time is dedicated to writing.

Mon’s rooftops are lively worlds in themselves. They function as laundry grounds, photography studios, sunset-viewing decks, and sometimes just places to breathe in the cool highland air.

From the terrace of my homestay, I watched two young women giggling as they captured pictures of each other. One wore a traditional beaded necklace paired with a red blouse – a burst of tribal pride against a canvas of green hills. The other, with a phone in hand, tried to frame the perfect shot while the mountains rested silently behind them. It was village life in its most natural form – simple moments, pure joy.

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Life in Mon Village

Mon village is always alive with movement – but never in a hurry. I saw an elderly woman and a young boy walking down a sloping road, their pace unhurried, their companionship quiet yet comforting. Women often carry bundles or baskets with an ease born from daily practice, while children chase each other under trees and run small errands for their families.

The roads are dusty and sunlit, lined with small houses and surrounded by vegetation so thick that it feels as though the forest watches over the village. From the rooftop, one can see the entire village spread out like a colourful mosaic. Houses painted in greens, blues and browns dot the slopes, creating an enchanting landscape. Laundry swings in the open air, satellite dishes lean at odd angles, and small paths weave between homes like friendly threads stitching the community together.

Mon has a unique way of balancing simplicity with resilience. The people live in tune with the land – weathering its challenges and celebrating its gifts.

Life Without Pretence

Perhaps the most profound part of Mon village is its authenticity. Life here is not curated – it is simple. Clothes dry in the open breeze. Shoes lie casually by the door. A blanket tossed on a bed tells of last night’s chill. People laugh openly, work steadily, and welcome visitors like old friends.

In Mon, you don’t just observe village life – you become a part of its quiet rhythm.

Till then, enjoy the pictures…