Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Cherrapunji

Cherrapunji was the last stop of our North-East trip. After this the softness of the mountains in our eyes was to be replaced by the brightness of streetlights. I was told not to expect too much from Cherrapunji. That it wasn’t beautiful anymore and it doesn’t rain too often. I was told wrong. It rained enough during our stay to remind me of my geography lessons in school, which gave this place ‘the rain capital of world’ title.
Cherrapunji was 56Kms from Shillong. The sun was shining boldly above our heads when we started our journey. However, the heat was not biting but rather a pleasant sensation on our skins. I was gladly reading my Nora Roberts when I heard the pitter patter of rain on my window. I looked up and realized that the mountains that I had taken for granted as my travelling partners were bowing down to small hills and flat plains. The sun had also disappeared behind the veil of dark clouds. The soft yellow of the day was thus transformed into the light darkness of a young evening.
I put my hand out of the window and felt the sting of a hailstorm. I smiled at my friend and we both put our heads out, literally hanging out of our cars. Soaked till our bones we arrived at Nohkalikai Fall, near Cherrapunji. It’s a different matter altogether that we weren’t able to even get a glimpse of the fall,  as the fog was wrapped around like a thick white blanket around us.
Although, we weren’t able to see the fall, its history we did hear. Local lore spoke about a mother’s love for her child who was killed by her second husband. The mother driven by her grief jumped from the fall.
The mist, the dew drops sticking on my face and the quietness of the place was instrumental in bringing out the most repressed feelings of my being. Contrast presented itself when I also felt peace. I was wet; I was walking in the fog and was lost in my thoughts. Smell of tea and a friendly smile across the road caught my attention. I walked over and after having a cup or two we were again on our way to Cherrapunji.
The outskirts of Cherrapunji felt like it was frozen in time. The landscape was green, the roads were fresh and the weather was always pleasant. Your eyes would fail to capture the vibrancy of the flowers but your heart will feel their gentleness. The houses stand alone and proud, not too far off but enough to mark their own place in that world.
‘Yeh raaten yeh mausam…’ was being played in my car when we arrived at Mawsmai caves. We were told to take off our shoes and fold our pants up, as there was water inside. I being a little claustrophobic immediately started getting images of too many people, water, no space and darkness. My friend nudged me from behind and I started moving in.
The cave was well lit but as we went in deep, crouching, we realized that at some places only one person can enter at a time. The stones were covered with moss and thus quite slippery as well. I will confess that I was terrified for at least a moment. The fact that I shouted ‘mummy’ must have been a clue for my friends for they helped me out hurriedly.
Well as hurriedly as possible with the queue waiting to leave.
One of the best ways to fight your fears is to concentrate on something else. I did the same and my point of concentration was the stalagmite and stalactites all around the cave. As I had never seem them before they seemed quite fascinating to me. I smiled remembering how I used to struggle to pronounce their names as a kid and walked out of the cave.
We ate a sumptuous meal at a dhaba of sorts next to the caves and continued our journey. We reached Cherrapunji Hotel resort by mid-afternoon. The place is tucked away at the edge of a hill and one can see Bangladesh on the other side. The flowers are blooming around the house, there is a small half- broken wooden bench in the front of the cottage where one can sit and look at mountains and clouds and butterflies.
With a cup of tea in our hand we all looked as if we are posing for Fredrick Williams, the famous painter. Once we were done posing we set out to see ‘The Living Root Bridge’. With shafts in our hands and no clue about the path we started following each other. The following was transformed into a full fledged trekking in about 20 mins. Considering I have never trekked before, it was surely an experience. It took us nearly two hours to reach the bridge and yes it was worth every aching bone in my body.
Although these bridges are natural, there is a human hand in their growing. According to Oddity Central (http://www.odditycentral.com/videos/the-living-bridges-of-cherrapunji.html) The Khasi tribesmen, using hollowed-out betel nut trunks, are able to direct the roots in whatever way they like. When the roots grow all the way across a river, they are allowed to return to the soil, and over time, a strong bridge is formed. It takes up to 10-15 years for a root bridge to develop, but it becomes stronger with each passing year and is known to last for centuries.
The one we visited was right at the start of a waterfall. I never imagined myself standing at the starting point of a waterfall and that was quite a thrill. But to see something so beautiful and strong also made me aware of the insurmountable strength of our mother nature.
Drinking some water from the stream we made our way back towards our hotel. Moon graced us with his presence halfway up the trek and dark shadows of the trees were then bathed into shimmering moonlight. The jungle sang its nighttime song and the light rain played the music. I forgot that I was tired and smiled at the unknown melody around me.
Finally we reached our hotel, took a bath and settled down for the local music sitting arranged specially for us. It was interesting to hear familiar tunes tangled with foreign language. After this we ate our food and settled down for the last time as a group, for this trip was over.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Queens Street

It was the middle of the night. The road was deserted and dogs were howling. The trees that lined both the sides of the street, looked like they were deciding the best way to devour it up. The zari on her red sari was the only thing that gave her away. She was walking alone with a cigarette in her mouth. She didn’t want to work tonight. She needn’t work tonight. She had enough on her to allow her these moments of solitude and peace. She loved this street as it was more deserted than the rest of them in the city. The occasional cars passing by always gave her intense excitement and fear. She walked behind the trees so that she was invisible to anyone not in quest of another soul. It made her feel like she was playing hide and seek. Only that she didn’t know who was seeking her.
It seemed to her that the trees have slept under the blanket of that darkness. The music of that silence was amplified by the drizzle in the air. Suddenly the soft and soothing was transformed into fast and moving. The silver baubles glowing on the darkened form of the leaves could have put the brightest diamond to shame. Surrounded with such riches she felt like a queen.
It was the beating of another heart behind her. It put a stop to the journey of her smile ,from her lips to her eyes. She turned behind and saw a strong form standing there. For a moment she thought the sound of his voice has overpowered her own heartbeat.
“What are you doing here at this hour of the night ? That too in the rain?” he asked. “I am a prostitute on a break. Do you mind?” she responded. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. “Do you need a lift? I can drop you somewhere”. “Do you offer strange women lift at this time in the night?” “Depends, if I am in a mood for company, I do”. “Is that you car?” “Yes. It is”.
She walked towards the car and sat inside. The moment he entered, she wished that there were no lights inside the car. His features that looked human in the moonlight, looked goodly and still much more real in them. Her own ugliness that had sprung up like a wall between the two forced her to look outside. Funny, that what I see outside is what I feel inside, darkness, she thought.
However, this thought was a mere fleeting one. She didn’t bother to catch it either. In her profession it was too easy to fall prey to such self pity and loose oneself. She had lost too much and too soon already.
“Do you work hard?” “Yes, occasionally”. “Do you like what you do?” “If the man is handsome, yes. If not still yes because then I charge him for his ugliness too,” she said and turned towards him.
His jaw was set and he stared ahead. He was driving at 120 and wasn’t much aware of the heavy veil of rain clouding his vision. She looked away. She didn’t want to know anything about him. He was for her a dream she didn’t want to give a name to. She simply wanted to live it. She could smell him. That was enough for her to create his image the way she wanted to. She had his voice as well. What she didn’t want were his thoughts. Because they didn’t matter to her.
She closed her eyes and sat back. He looked at her and commented, “You look so peaceful”. “I am at peace right now”. “I wish I could say that”. She remained silent and smiled at him. “I like your smile. It is full of hope”. “Don’t you like hope?” “Hope can be deceiving. It can make you believe in things that are nothing but mirages”. “There is such a thin line between a mirage and reality. It really is all about your perception”.
“I am not a great fan of reality either. It’s ugly”, he said swinging his car. “But true,” she said with her eyes still closed. “How does it matter?” he asked. “You are right it doesn’t”. They both fell silent for some time. “I hate lies too,” he said. “Yes same here”. “Don’t you want to know the truth about me?” “I don’t think it will be much of use to me to be honest”. “How can you be so self-assured and confident? ” he asked in a calm and thinking voice. She just smiled at him.
Headline: A man killed his wife and three year old girl last night and set the house on fire. He then drove away in his car and was killed in a car crash near queens street. There was a woman in the car with him who died on the spot. The police still haven’t identified her.