More Than a Picnic Spot: Listening to the Triple Falls of Dimapur
Discover the quiet magic of Triple Falls in Dimapur—beyond the photos and picnics lies a space for stillness, stories, and reflection. A soulful take on one of Nagaland’s most serene spots.
NATURE & WILDLIFENAGALAND
6/16/20252 min read
It’s easy to dismiss the Triple Falls in Dimapur as just another stop on the checklist. A quick drive, a photo by the cascading water, maybe a packed lunch on the stone benches. Most visitors come, click, and go. But if you let yourself linger—really linger—you’ll find that the falls offer something deeper than a photo op.
I visited on a late afternoon, the sun already tilting west. A group of college students was gathered near the entrance, sharing snacks and laughter. They posed with peace signs, flipped hair for selfies, and moved on. Nothing wrong with that. But I stayed behind, drawn by the pull of something quieter.
The trail to the base was damp, shaded by bamboo and wild creepers. The falls themselves were split into three ribbons of water—each falling at a different pace, each with its own tone. One roared, one gurgled, one barely whispered. It felt like a conversation in three voices.
I sat on a mossy rock by the lowest fall, shoes off, feet in the pool. A local caretaker came by, sweeping fallen leaves. We spoke for a while. He told me he’d worked there for 17 years. "People change," he said. "Phones get fancier. But water… water stays the same."
We talked about the monsoon when the falls rage full, and the lean summer months when they retreat. He told me that in some nearby villages, elders believe the falls are watched over by a guardian spirit—and that no one dares bathe alone at dusk.
Later, a couple came by with a child. The child tossed pebbles, the parents quietly watching. No one rushed. For those moments, it wasn’t a tourist site. It was a pause.
Back near the entrance, I saw a plaque with the usual lines: height, origin, district. Factual, forgettable. What it didn’t say is how the Triple Falls sound when no one is talking. Or how dragonflies skim across the mist. Or how, if you stay long enough, even the stones seem to exhale.
Triple Falls doesn’t demand your attention. It rewards your stillness. Come for the picture if you must. But if you can, stay for the quiet.
