The North East- A different India within India

Locals of Majuli Island, world's largest river island, situated on Brahmaputra in Assam 

"As innocent as a child, as beautiful as a newly wedded girl, as dreamy as first love"- this is how I described North East when someone asked me how it was after my maiden journey to the region.

Friends, I had hitherto not been a person who writes travellogue, but have finally decided to give in to the demands of a few travel-crazy friends who have requested, threatened and even emotionally blackmailed me into documenting my travels. So here is my first one, part 1 of my trip that I took to North East in March-April of 2013.

                                                         

                                              The Journey Begins

It was once again a travel journey, once again I had my big blue bag on my back, and once I was racing against time like a mad bull on the platform of New Delhi Railway Station to make it to my train. There was once again a Déjà vu, the feeling of having been in the exactly same surrounding in the exact same way so many times.  From a distance I could see my train already sliding smoothly. For someone who has travelled in Indian Railways for as long as I have, it is disappointing to see a train leave on time. I pride myself on having been the absolute last passenger to have boarded the moving train on so many occasions after giving it a kilometer chase. Just as Undertaker cannot lose at Wrestlemania, Salman Khan movies never make any sense, Rahul Gandhi will always remain a retard and even God cannot kill a South Indian movie hero...I considered it impossible for me to miss my train. And today, for once, it occurred to me that this could be the ultimate dark night when the heaven falls apart. I gave the last burst of energy in me and exhausted whatever little life that remained in me to push myself faster and ultimately achieved the dubious distinction of being the last person to board the running train, and with a sprained right leg.

I savour travelling in train, even if it is at the cost of additional time or extra journey or compromised safety. I love the characteristic smell of sleeper class train bogie, the rhythmic noise of the rail gaadi, the air blasting on to your face when you sit against the window, the view of the distant houses and farms- a perfect place to reflect and think, to relish and repent, to re-live and forget, to smile and sulk. The train journey to Guwahati was usual- punctuated with phone calls, watsapp, conversations with fellow passengers, something to eat at every railway station, something to read, finding a charging point.   

The train, 8 hours late, took me at Guwahati at 3 pm. It was at the railway station where I first met Lisa, the British traveller who was in India for the second time. We had interacted online and decided to cover the common part of the journey together to save ourselves some money and have someone for company. She had been travelling alone and was a little desperate for company and I too definitely did not want to travel alone. It was quite a sight to see a white, slender, tall British girl in a white Salwar and yellow Kameez. There she was, with her golden shoulder-length hair as confident as Britons typically are. Not a wee bit nervous or apprehensive about traveling with or sharing a room with an stranger male from Delhi (perhaps the notoriety of Delhi was unknown to her). Though she was a little confused and somewhat moody, but she hid it to some extent and was courteous as her nationality demanded of her.

We went first to her room near the station at a hotel. At 700 per day, the room’s rent definitely exceeded its worth, something most hotels are guilty of when it comes to servicing foreigners. We met two Spanish travellers whom I deeply suspect to be gay (one of them used to read a novel to the other each night: D I learned that at Majuli Island but that comes later). We talked to them for a few minutes and then proceeded to the Mizo House to procure Inner Line Permits for Mizoram which we thankfully did not get as we never made it to Mizoram. We toured the city and spent some time at Assam State Museum befbefore covering Kamakhya Temple, on the way to which I told her that the temple is devoted to Sati whose vagina, as legend has it, fell there and still ovulates during a particular time of the year under the sacred cave.  For the rest of the evening we tried street food and then had dinner before we retired to the room. 

If you are having trouble picturising her by my description then here she is- Lisa

For those of you who plan to visit North East, I recommend not to customarily waste a day at Guwahati as there isn’t anything there, something Lisa rightly observed and said to me while I was in Train and she was there. Infact, you could even skip Kamakhya unless you are the religious types or the one who must see every known monument in the area.

Below are a few of the memorable pictures from the trip.

The fabled and marvelous double decker living root bridges of Nongriat, Meghalaya

Kaziranaga National Park, Assam

The dark and eerie caves of Mawsmai, Cherrapunji, Meghalaya

Will try to find time to write the remaining parts!