4- NEFA trip

4. NEFA- 15.1. 02

We drove from Kaziranga to Dibrugarh reaching about Lunch to Hotel Mona Lisa bidding goodbye to Narayan and the Sumo and shifting to the Black ‘Cielo’ of our host/ friend at Arunachal.

Driving Eastwards were, more and more Tea-estates spreading far and wide owned by various Williamson & McPhersons, Williamson & etc. etc. still symbolizing past or present history of British ownership. Most of the Head-offices were in Kolkota, most tea was exported but most workers were local, lots were women and just about surviving.

The roads were getting bad and then bad to worse. For my NRI friend Veena, used to driving on fast and mighty Highways of a mighty country, It was difficult to comprehend why ‘it had to be so’. Depending on my state of noon-somnolence I would react by simply smiling or going into our intricate ways of existing and ‘progressing’ in Mera Bharat Mahan.
We crossed the border into Arunachal. I remembered (too late) that our inner-line permits, which I had procured in Delhi after ‘some’ effort, were in the Boot of the car in my suitcase. “No problem” announced the Driver, “nobody will check in my Sahib’s car” WOW!
He did not even have to stop or slowdown at the Barrier ‘in these’ troubled times, although it ‘troubled’ both of us for Mera Bharat----you know what- Mahaaan !

We arrived at Guna town, Chowkham in Lohit Distt. to a large dwelling in the midst of lot of greens and were welcomed by Rajen and his wife Frica. Somewhat in a daze after the long travel, the hot Brandy with Madhu, Black pepper and Ginger was wonderful.

Arunachal borders with Bhutan, China and Myanmar (Burma). It is mountainous, remote and predominantly tribal.
Rajen belongs to the tribe of ‘Khamtis’. His ancestors moved here in the mid 80s’ from Burma. They are one of the most prosperous, have their own language, script and religion. His father Mr Namshun, now in his 80s was the tribal chief and later an MP. Arunachal at the time of Independence was the most backward state, the capital Itanagar being built only in 1982. Mr. Namshun was instrumental in its growth in education, general development and brought it on the Industrial map of India. Though born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was socially committed and almost developed the whole town including 2 Budhists temples or Stupas, local Schools, market, club and Parks.

At this time he was going through ‘grief’ after Ashok Kumar’s death who he said had been his contemporary and favorite Bollywood star.

We visited the Parashuram Kund which is a place of pilgrimage and especially famous for a ‘Holy-bath’ during Makkar Sankranti. There were about 500 steps going down the hill, which Veena descended in the hope of ‘being cleansed’ of her sins while I waited with Rajen in his Pajero. Once in those waters people actually remove and discard their clothes (with no inhibitions I was told) and wear new ones to ‘become new’ ??? perhaps.

Driving on narrow roads one saw luxuriant tropical rain forests giving way at places to paddy fields and human habitations. There were rhythmic hilly rivers checked by small dams, boats and bridges of various kinds including a floating Bridge controlled by the Army.
(We were told that on one such rope bridge Rajen’s brother Guna had slipped into the river and died).
There were small tin and jute dwellings, which looked like railway carriages, long and narrow. These belonged to the Mishi tribe, most of who were farmers. Each had atleast 4 wives and lots of children all living in complete harmony. The groom just had to pay some money to buy his bride and she was ‘his’ to command and help in the field.

The evenings were indoors with the Namshuns sharing local rice dishes cooked in Bamboo, fresh steamed vegetables and lovely fruits from Fricas own garden. Along with this I have to also mention the other sharing, discussions and confessions on life, love, marriage and values, VALUES of people who belonged to Arunachal, Kashmir, Punjab, South of Delhi, South of Manhattan. They were actually the same. Singing George Harrisons songs in a tribal home - the integration felt complete, not of the Indian but the Global-Mind.

Then the clouds gathered and the rain began to swell the waters along the roads. Not risking getting trapped in Arunachal, which they said could happen, we left a day early to reach Mona Lisa and next morning fly back to Kolkota carrying bagfulls of Arunachali Tea.

At Dum-dum airport over a cup of Tea from the Machine, over shared emotions of meeting and parting friendship we hugged good byes. We shook hands vowing to meet at Amsterdam at the International meet of Law and Psychiatry in July 2002, my trolley facing Indian Airlines to Delhi- hers to British to New York.

Veena Kapoor
13. 2. 02