How a dog led me through the wilds of Bandarban

I’m a physician by profession. But for now, I’ve put that career on hold to travel full time. The travel bug bit me 16 years ago when I was a student. However, I began exploring the hills two years later — meaning I fell in love with the mountains 14 years ago.

Naturally, the love wasn’t that deep at first. Like any new lover, I’d visit occasionally, mainly to see hill towns and a couple of nearby waterfalls. At the same time, I kept up with my studies.

This continued until 2020. Then came the COVID era. Something shifted deep within me. By that time, I had already entered professional life. Yet, I began skipping time at the chamber to experience nature anew — this time completely alone. What they call in English: a ‘solo traveler.’ I began roaming across the country on my own, chasing waterfalls, streams, hills, and canals — sometimes joining travel groups, but often alone.

And that’s when I noticed that I enjoyed the company of nature much more when I traveled solo. I also connected better with local people. No fixed schedules are another benefit of solo travel. I could travel freely, without constraints.

In 2021, a school for Mro children was established deep in the hills of Lama, Bandarban. Since then, I’ve practically been away from home every month — drawn by the children and the mountains.

On those journeys, I’ve sometimes relied on help from local people, and sometimes even had loyal dogs from hill villages as my companions, venturing into forests and hills in search of unknown wonders.

Many of my city-dwelling friends and family can’t believe that dogs can be amazing travel companions. Perhaps it’s because we still haven’t built a strong bond with animals — or we simply don’t understand them well enough. That’s why they remained skeptical.

But back in the COVID era, when people were locked inside and restaurants were closed, street dogs and other animals went hungry for days and cried out in pain. That’s when I started cooking and distributing food to them, night after night. A strong bond formed between us.

Now, about the dogs I met in the hills. Not once, but many times, I’ve found dogs as companions. In my opinion, dogs aren’t just companions — they’re the best guides too. I’m not a professional blogger, vlogger, filmmaker, or content creator. I shoot occasional videos or photos on my trips simply to preserve memories. Recently, one of my videos went viral — it surpassed 3 million views!

Yes, 3 million! Unbelievable to me. And the reason it went viral was one of my dog companions, who stepped into the role of guide and led me through a remote mountain trail.

On 13 July, I set out alone for Thanchi in Bandarban. My plan was to reach Baghermukh Para through Alikadam and Tindu, and then take a dip in Langlok waterfall, following the beautiful Sangu River.

But when I arrived at Baghermukh Para, even though Langlok was to the right, for some unknown reason, I veered left. And there I saw the dog — the one I later lovingly named Rocky.

When I called Rocky, he came over and sat beside me, enjoying my affection. Then he suddenly moved ahead, as if inviting me to follow. I decided to rely on Google Maps and head toward Chawadang Para, from where I’d get a spectacular view of one of the country’s most beautiful waterfalls: Shoingong. Two other newly discovered waterfalls — Randayak and Bakhiyang — were also nearby, and I planned to see them too.

So off I went. But alas! I had never walked this path before. How would I find my way through these desolate jungles and hills filled with waterfalls, streams, and jhum fields? Even Google Maps seemed lost here.

That’s when Rocky stepped in as my guide. Moving ahead, he seemed to say with his body language: "I’m here, friend! What’s there to fear?"

The distance from Baghermukh Para to Chawdang Para is about three hours. For regular trekkers, it’s at least two and a half hours.

But this legend led me there in just 1 hour 40 minutes — because he didn’t walk, he ran the whole way. And I had to keep pace! Every second, every step of that journey was filled with adventure.

At every turn in the trail, Rocky would mark the path by urinating — even scratching the surface with his sharp nails. He was leaving markers behind so that he could follow his scent later. Every time he peed, he’d sniff the same spot again.

That’s when I realised — Rocky had walked this trail before, or another dog from his pack had left those scent markers. There was no doubt now that Rocky was the most experienced guide here. I no longer had any fear or worries.

As dusk began to fall on the mountain trail, I grew exhausted trying to keep up with Rocky. So I stopped halfway. Rocky, by then, had moved far ahead. But after a while, I saw him coming back — he had looked back, not seen me, and returned to check.

The feeling that swept over me at that moment — I can’t describe it in words. Right then, I knew I had nothing to fear in this lonely forest at dusk. Rocky had claimed his place in my heart as a true friend. After a brief rest, he nudged me again — "Time to run again, friend!"

And so we continued. At the base of the final hill leading to Chawadang Para, there’s a stream where the trail splits into four directions. I was confused. So was Rocky, perhaps. But then he sniffed the ground at least 50 times, urinated, and suddenly darted uphill. I followed without question — because I knew Rocky wouldn’t be wrong.

Rocky lived up to the trust I placed in him. Just as the last rays of the sun touched the hills, he brought me to Chawadang Para — exactly in 1 hour 40 minutes. There, I met a group of tourists and told them Rocky’s story. When they watched the video clips, they were stunned.

I freshened up and fried some eggs. There wasn’t much food in this hill village. So the two of us shared a simple meal of eggs and rice, with bamboo shoots and fermented nappy. Rocky was grateful for so little — and yet, still visibly tired. While he rested, I lay under the faint stars of the mountain sky, thinking: “When there’s so much division among people, it was a hill dog that became my true friend.”

I was to stay four more days in that village. The next day, I sent Rocky off with that tourist group, back to his village. During those four days, I lost my drone at a waterfall and was returning alone, saddened — when I saw Rocky again at Baghermukh Para.

This time, I shared the whole story with his owner, a Marma man. He smiled and said, “Yes, that’s just how he is.”

I gave Rocky a piece of cake, gave him one last loving pat, and said goodbye. I’m sure I’ll meet this loyal mountain dog again someday — my friend, my guide — Rocky.