Part 6 Aug 11^th  2011

 

Guwahati.


We were moving on to the next leg of the trip. As I look back at it now, I don’t know how to describe that feeling; the colours looked a little less bright. These things happens after one fights with our mums, dads, friends, or to think of it after a fight with anyone; the sunshine seems just a tad less bright, the colours around look a little less cheerful, even the air around weighs a little heavily on you. That was what happened hence forward, it wasn’t something I could point out but the tone of the trip was definitely different. There was maybe an invisible strain between me and Sudha, very minute but it was there. It wasn’t that the trip hence forward was any less fun, adventurous, unpredictable, Oh it was all that and more. The places we visited were so soothing they could have mended any tormented soul and ours was just a minor misunderstanding, more situational than personal.
On this part I was more confident too. That in control feeling came with the knowledge that now we were about to tour the more conventional tourist region with my LP (lonely planet) securely under my arm. The LP informed that Assam was divided in two parts, namely Upper Assam and Lower Assam. I knew this as I had a friend from Assam a few years back who had filled me in on this. The lower Assam which borders West Bengal, Meghalaya and Bangladesh houses the capital Dispur and its biggest city Guwahati. Upper Assam is home to the Rhinos i.e. the Kaziranga national park with Jorhat being the biggest city. The geographical locations are such that to enter any other NE state one has to pass through Assam, and hence Guwahati emerging as an important node in Indian railways. There isn’t much presence of the Railways beyond Guwahati except a line running to Dibrugarh and one has to resort to the Highways to reach the destinations within the seven sister states. The LP also gave an orientation of the city of Guwahati, the railway station being the invisible point dividing it into two parts. The exit through the back entrance takes you to the Guwahati city with its bazaars, malls, and residential areas, the Dispur road and probably the IIT too. The front entrance takes us on the side of the Brahmaputra, the administrative and judicial buildings and the Kamakhya temple. And this was the one we should take to go to the ATDC rest house.
We actually woke up in the morning hearing 'Kamakhya, Kamakhya' itself. As was expected the old couples were up and ready by four with their luggage arranged all around them; as if the train would fly by the station any moment, without giving them a chance to get down. We too got up and waited for the Guwahati station. The group was high on conversation now, but we were given a little space to sit and we were thankful. Sudha later told me she had noticed one of the lady's feet and they were extremely beautiful, clean and shapely. Umm, maybe her 'Pakeezah' moment? Anyways I was still annoyed with that lady for her mumblings in the night, beautiful feet or not. By now it was the Kamakhya station, where one has to alight to get to the Kamakhya temple. The chitchatting mellowed down as the couples got down here. I looked towards Sudha, she seemed her normal cheerful self. Maybe the night's sleep had done us both some good. Maybe our trip would progress further. Guwahati station was neat and clean compared to the ones we had come from.

 The outside facade is quite characteristic of Assam and the palm trees add to the feel. What was quite uncharacteristic was the presence of tens of Army commandoes, we saw the signage for  Army Hostel but still it wasn’t enough to justify this 'armed' presence. I would now put down our surprise as our ignorance. How little do we know about the parts of our own country, especially about the everyday detail? We moved ahead a couple of blocks towards the ATDC (Assam Tourism Development Corporation) Rest house. Sudha has an experience with a couple of State sponsored rest houses, where one can vouch for safety, which was what we needed at that moment. Peace of mind. There were two attendants at the reception counter giving us a frowning expression which probably could be translated into, "Go Away!". Undeterred we proceeded and asked for a double room, the shorter one of the two said we would have to pay the full charge for the day or we can wait till noon, the checkout time. We pleaded; we were experts in it by now, asking them what one does if one's train reaches at five in the morning. Now the other one suggested we could have the room for half the price ofcourse w/o the receipt. Were they playing the good cop- bad cop game? Again I was the one who got the hint and the deal was cracked. Agatha Christie had said 'murder is a habit', maybe every vice is a habit, and the second time is easy. Sudha actually came to knew that we had bribed those people only after I mentioned it to her later in the morning; she had put it down on their kindness. We went up to our rooms, and actually entered after a wait of quarter of an hour because the rooms weren’t ready! The attendant came up behind us, entered, changed the sheets, emptied the bin, filled up the jar of water, gave us a nod towards the end of corridor indicating the water filter, and made his exit in the same grand manner. Now inside this white washed room with the balcony looking over some posh club's swimming pool and tennis courts we couldn’t believe last night had actually happened. Even after a year now, it still seems a dream or rather a nightmare. Sudha went first to freshen up and I loitered in the balcony. I was thinking on the lines of location of this place and thought these government owned rest houses are placed in the middle of the cities still with abundant space to play around and sometimes also with views as I was noticing right now. It was around seven now and already starting to get hot and humid. Looking down, just below was the tennis court where a doubles match was on. All the players were on the other side of sixty, I think one would need that much time to come to this station of life where you could become a member of this Gymkhana unless ofcourse if you are born with a silver spoon. Beyond was the swimming pool which was yet unattended and quite understandingly. I thought by eleven everyone in Guwahati would be in need to jump into one. One attendant was sitting beside it on his hunches busy brushing his teeth, on the side he had left a hose pipe in the pool to fill. I was very curious to know what happens next, where does this guy spit? But his 'brushing the teeth' activity went on for quite a while and I lost my patience. Diagonally behind the tennis court and the swimming pool I could also make out a water body, maybe a lake? I was waiting eagerly for my breakfast and putting a stop to my eye-recce I went in. After freshening up, both of us zoomed down towards the restaurant in the lift. The restaurant looked quite posh for a government owned rest house. The colour and textures were pleasing and added a cheer to the morning. There was a television in a corner with Mr. Gogoi speaking earnestly about something and everyone in the restaurant listening to it with as much sincerity. I wondered what national news we had missed since leaving home. Neither do I interest myself with newspapers nor television when travelling, which are some of my addictions, but better indulged at home. We ordered bread-toast and butter with tea, it was a standard breakfast item in this region unless one wanted to have rice. The toast was nice but alas the tea was a disaster; it seemed the cook had poured in all the milk he had. As we were having breakfast I received a call from a very helpful friend I had acquainted during our Kailash Mansarovar trip, he wanted to share the news that he had been selected. When I told him about my location he insisted I should go to the Kamakhya temple and experience the energy felt in the sanctum sanctorum located in the underground cave. I was intrigued. I thanked him and paid attention to my toast. I couldn’t have that tea even if I had paid for it. Sudha tried to reason with me and maybe herself too that it would offend the cook and the waiter if we left it that way. We gulped it down in one go and got up at once.

We moved towards the reception after breakfast. After the formalities for booking were completed, we had the room officially now, we asked this person for directions towards any airlines office. After yesterday's experience we had made up our mind to fly back to Calcutta on our return journey. He suggested to- no actually coerced us to go to a tourist office next door for the bookings. I was under the impression that this was some part of the Assam Tourism Office and hence quite eager to go there. There was a lady sitting there inside who welcomed us with a very big smile, like the one the wolf gave little red riding hood? No, I'm being unnecessarily mean. But this one was a very apt person to sell a holiday and here she immediately took us under her wing. As soon as we had narrated the concise version of our trip and our plans ahead, she chalked out a detail itinerary with a car and a driver cum guide and all. In the end with a flourish she mentioned a figure so outrageous we just looked back at her. In the next second we were on our feet, mildly rejecting her proposal, and then as a last parting shot asking her directions to the Jet Airways office. We proceeded towards it keeping in mind all the directions given to us. We were told it was only five mins away on the road. We passed the entrance to the Gymkhana we had a view of through our balcony, and taking some more directions we marched ahead. We also passed a museum some time later and made a mental note to visit it later. It was about nine in the morning and more hot than noon in Pune. But the humidity was the real killer. After walking for about half an hour we were still nowhere near any airlines office. There was a small restaurant on the otherside of the road and we thought of having some tea just to cheer us up. I still get the shivers thinking about that breakfast tea. The restaurant looked somewhat shady, maybe because of its gaudy upholstery. We asked for some tea and the waiter immediately apologised for the absence of it, but we could have coffee. No tea in Assam? We declined the suggestion and got on our way again. We again asked around for the airlines office to be told this time to turn around and go backwards. After another ten minutes we found the Jet airways office. The young lady there asked us with a polite smile, "How can I help you?" Her tone surely suggested otherwise. We asked her for available flights to Calcutta on the 15th. She gave a strange look at the mention of 15th of August. I don’t think we noticed it at that time. There were two flights one in the morning and another in the evening which was the only one having free seats, but the prices were exorbitant and we dropped the idea there and then. Coming out both of us agreed there was no other way but to take the train. We had noticed the reservation centre just next to the railway station in the morning and decided to visit it in the afternoon. At that moment we crossed the road and jumped on a bus to Kamakhya.

Till that morning I had never heard about this famous Kamakhya temple. When the train had arrived at the Kamakhya station in the morning, Sudha had mentioned that we should go there today. She joked that some of her friends from the defence background when posted in Guwahati visited it atleast once otherwise they had to come on yet another posting here. We got settled in the bus as the driver mentioned it was more than forty minutes drive. The only seats available had been the ones opposite the driver. Though hot, they had the best view through the unobstructed front glass. Our very own 'Guwahati city tour' had started. The bus passed through many areas, some looked like second hand book bazaar, some like a whole sale market, all zooming bye as we reached one of the arterial roads. As the bus came along to join this main road, I wasn’t looking at it, no but at the spectacle beyond. In a moment the conductor screamed, "Brahmaputra stop." So this was THE Brahmaputra-The majestic, awe-inspiring, temperamental, one which was looking more like a blue sea rather than a river along the road. Now we were travelling parallel to her, no its 'him'! Brahmaputra is the only male river in India. The river belt along the Brahmaputra is planted with greens all along with gardens, parks, state waterways, private cruises all placed one after another. The road followed the river for a while and then turned inland and in a while we alighted in front of a huge entrance arch announcing 'Kamakhya temple'. The temple itself is up in the hills, about 5-6 kms from this point. As the sun was scorching down we got in a shared jeep to reach the temple instead of braving a trek. Huffing and puffing the jeep started its upward journey. The journey got interesting after a km with tree cover getting denser giving a beautiful bird's eye view of the surroundings. We reached an amphitheatre kind of thing which the driver told us is actually a parking lot. Getting down here, one has to further walk for about 300 meters to reach the temple premises. The walkway was lined with the usual shops selling offerings to the Goddess and the 'prasad' to be taken home. I have a vague feeling of red when I think about the walk to the temple. Maybe it is because of the numerous red Hibiscus flowers for sale. Climbing up to the temple premise a old stone structure came into view, dating probably many centuries before. The first thing I noticed was a baby goat running around the temple and in that moment it struck me it was there for 'sacrifice'. Born and brought up in India one has heard almost everything about superstition, black magic, animal sacrifices or even human sacrifices( in the distant past, ofcourse) but like any other profound aspect of life when you come face to face to a living creature who is going to be denied the chance of life, it is a shock. We moved ahead and I remembered the warning given in LP, especially to foreigners, to be prepared before the visit here. It was written that in the underground cave, the actual sanctum sanctorum, one feels a wet/damp feeling when we place our feet there which is nothing but blood spilled when offering the sacrificial being. There were many entrances to the temple and in the dearth of any proper signage we entered a huge room, on the end of this room was a lattice through which an idol of a goddess was visible. But the thing that caught our eye was the scene in the room. There were many girls sitting there in different groups each having their parents and a priest besides them. All these girls looked young, we guessed they hadn’t reached puberty yet. The girls were made up, with their feet painted and all and it seemed the priests were actually performing their puja. It was all probably a local custom. We moved out and asking around entered the correct entrance. Here one has to go around a long circular route to reach the insides of the temple. All this arrangement was probably for the days when there is extreme rush. Finally we reached the queue to enter and waited patiently. Already the atmosphere had started to work on me. There was a family consisting a couple, their two small girls, and their grandmother ahead of us. Sudha pointed out the ‘Mekhala Chaddar’ worn by the grandmother; the traditional Assamese wear, very similar to a sari. She had been telling me about this since we had reached Guwahati but I hadn’t understood what it was. I liked it so much that I bought one back for mums. After about a quarter of an hour we entered the actual hall of the temple. There were many idols here too and people were offering those red Hibiscus flowers. I was getting very curious because of all the bits and pieces I had heard. The queue moved at a snail's pace and finally we were at the mouth of the cave. I am going to attempt to describe the 'space' but I'm sure I wouldn’t be doing it justice. I have to first mention that this is the only temple where one doesn’t take 'darshan'(see or sight) through eyes (‘for the simple reason that there isn’t any idol here) but through touch! I know it is all very mystique and it gets more mysterious ahead. One descends about four to five uneven stone steps, all in the dark because there aren’t any electrical lights ahead. The actual sanctum sanctorum is a rectangular space, a cave actually not more than four meters in length and two metres wide.  Along the length, placed on the ground or probably generating from the ground was the form which was worshipped. This was covered all over with the red Hibiscus flowers; there was no other colour there except red. All this was visible in the dim lights of a few strategically placed oil lamps. And yes my feet were feeling that dampness, which was creeping up through my spine because of what I had read. Inspite of all this I have to admit the feeling of experiencing something very primitive and very deep. It was as if actually experiencing 'life' not within but all around. I cannot further explain it but I still remember the whole spectacle when I'm writing it down here. As I was kneeling down here I saw Sudha turn back from the bottom step. The priest told me to touch the stone and drink the water coming from an underground spring. I will explain the meaning of all this a little ahead, even I was full of all these questions then. Those few minutes spent there are so strongly etched in my mind, I couldn’t get enough of the atmosphere but it was time to move ahead as a crowd was gathering behind. Passing all the other idols I made my way towards the exit. As soon as I had rounded the last corner, I came upon a priest and when I looked down at his joint palms, I truly was stunned. He was carrying the severed head of a young goat leaving a trail of blood dripping behind him. He was moving towards the sanctum sanctorum with this offering. In a trance I moved out in the sunlight where Sudha was waiting, she too had seen it. We moved towards the exit in silence. I took a few photographs and both of us were moving towards normalcy. We didn’t discuss it till we reached the room later.
 

 

The information we collected about Kamakhya came through the various pamphlets from the Assam tourism office we visited later in the day. It is as follows- the myth: The Hindu philosophy states of the trinity who are responsible for the creation, preservation and destroying of the universe, namely Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. Sati, the earlier reincarnation of Parvati, who is Shiva's consort jumped into her father's holy pyre as a reaction to his insult of Shiva, her husband. Shiva in extreme grief walked all over the earth carrying her dead body. Now without the presence of all the three supreme Gods the world couldn’t function, hence Vishnu sent his divine discus behind Shiva which in turn cut Sati's body into numerous parts. This was also to free her soul to be reborn as Paravti. These various bodyparts fell at various places on earth to form 'shaktipeeth' or energy points. Kamakhya is the place where Sati's female genitals fell. Most of the pieces of the puzzle fall into place and it is upto one's interpretation ahead. I want to mention that all the 'believers' and 'non believers' or the ones inbetween should have a healthy respect for each other’s opinion. Otherwise they wouldn’t be categorised under the above titles but as simply 'ignorant'. I know the whole thing above would seem quite flabbergasting to many but still it is there. And I have just described what I came across. Some food for thought- Kamakhya is the main centre for Tantric activities.

We reached the shared jeep parking place to hop on one. The sun was at its worst temper, scorching down on us. We were sweating profusely and drenched in no time. Is it possible to have 100% humidity? If it is it was then in Guwahati. There was no jeep in the vicinity and after waiting for about twenty minutes under a barely there tree we got into one. The other passengers were an Irani family chattering away, maybe to avoid thinking about the heat. They told us they wanted to go the Kaziranga national park. We informed them that all the wildlife parks in India close for monsoon, and repeated that well used idiom, "wrong time". Though I don’t think they understood what we were trying to say. As soon as the jeep reached the foot of the hill, we went off to the bus stop and luckily caught a bus back almost immediately. The wind blowing in from the windows was soothing to the skin and the soul. I guess this heat reaches the absolute core of a person. We passed again by the Brahmaputra, I noticed there were quite a few restaurants. I asked Sudha if she wanted to get down there for lunch, but she rightly pointed out that we could come there in the evenings. We could have had a sun stroke too now, it was that bad. The bus was taking a different route now, we went around many administrative and judicial buildings this time including the High court and a couple of colleges too. As we rounded the last corner to reach in the vicinity of the Railway Station and our hotel we came across the lake I had seen through the balcony. But right now it was the centre of a commotion and everyone in the bus too was trying to peep out to see what was going on. We reached the hotel without further event and immediately entered the restaurant. On a spur we ordered Paneer Butter Masala, and ineffect tasted the softest paneer ever. We thought of taking rest for a while but decided on booking the train tickets first at the Reservation centre next door. Throughout the day we had chalked out a rough plan for the next part of the tour. Tomorrow we would leave early for Shillong, Meghalaya, about three to four hours by road from Guwahati. The next day we would do Cherrapunji and come back to Guwahati the day after i.e. on fourteenth. So we could catch a train back to Calcutta on the Independence Day. I was thinking of staying put in Calcutta for two days and take the bi- weekly Duronto back to Pune on the eighteenth. Sudha also thought to go back by that time. The plan chalked out, we felt like Shahrukh in DDLJ, "Ab kuch gadbad nahi ho sakti." The reservation centre was very spacious with enough seating and numerous booking counters too, most of them empty. We booked our back ticket with the Saraighat Express, the one which had brought us to Guwahati for the 15th of August, departure at noon. I booked my Duronto ticket for 18th but Sudha on the last moment decided to book hers after reaching Calcutta. Sudha has a very good friend of hers staying in Calcutta so she wasn’t stressed about it. We returned to our room and relaxed with the overhead fan circulating in full speed.

We moved out at four, and made our way to the museum we had passed by in the morning. But as we were entering its gate we noticed the timings and realised it had already shut office for the day. At that moment an idea struck us- to take a cruise on the Brahmaputra, now that would be a beautiful memory to savour. We stopped an auto rickshaw and enquired if he would take us to the Brahmaputra, he acquiesced and we set off. The route we took passed nice quiet residential structures, then the administrative quarter we had passed by in the morning and a police ground where rehearsals for
the Independence Day were on in full swing. But now instead of taking a right turn, as we had oriented ourselves in the morning journey, the auto took a left turn. On our agitated queries he said, "Madam, Ashok Brahmaputra issi side mein hai." So this guy was taking us to that Hotel! We told him we didn’t want to go to any hotel but the actual Brahmaputra! Now we were going on the opposite side and couldn’t take a turn on this one-way. So we paid him and got down to trek towards the cruise office Sudha had seen in the morning. On the way, we noticed a garden and went around it too. There are actually quite a few of these linear green patches along the Brahmaputra walkway. Finally we reached the cruise office only to be told that the last cruise for the day had just left. We actually saw it and bid it good bye. What now? Being on the banks of the river and admiring her is quite different than actually floating on her, actually being on a different element. When we were walking aimlessly along the same pathway Sudha remembered eyeing the 'Assam inland waterways' board too. So we walked a little further and found that too. This was actual the local transport system between what is called 'upper Guwahati' on the otherside of the Brahmaputra. We purchased the five rupee ticket and jumped on to this ferry. At this time it was full of people returning home after work, some actually with their two wheelers and bicycles. We took up our seats on the open starboard side and sat put to enjoy the river. In this fading sunlight it was looking like spilt golden liquid spread out like a sea. The sky was painting itself in all the hues of gold, yellow and orange leaving behind the blues. The monsoon clouds weren’t to be left behind who embossed various patterns on this making their presence felt. There was a dim outline of a lattice bridge on the otherside, which was the roadway to this same place, upper Guwahati. I clicked the whole spectacle to my satisfaction.
 

 

 

 

                                                       

Finally the ferry started and we floated towards the center of Brahmaputra. There were weeds floating around but I remember looking upwards at the sky and being stuck by the vastness of the space. In cities one just experiences 'a mouthful of sky' but here I could watch it from horizon to horizon. I could feel the 'round' earth at this moment and wondered if I would be going around it? The shore on the otherside too came into picture. It was like the backwaters of Kerala with its sloping roofs covered with thatch or tiles, coconut groves peaking above them and mud pathways making up the approach road. The ferry docked and we jumped off to the shore. The return ferry would start in about fifteen minutes. We made our way through this place which had stopped the time and modernisation on the banks of the river itself. There weren’t any concrete structures about, nothing rising above two storeys to compete with the coconuts. There were verandas in front of the houses where old ladies were gossiping to their hearts content. There were small shop fronts displaying fresh fruits and vegetables, and occasionally those omnipresent 'Kurkure' packets. Through the gaps inbetween the houses one could get a glimpse of the Brahmaputra and have the assurance of where we were. We tried going towards it through one of the lanes but there wasn’t an opening further ahead. It was time to turn back and we made our way to the ferry. Again buying the ticket we hopped on, this time it was completely empty. We decided to try the low roof fitted over. We had seen people occupying it on our inwards journey and it had quite tempted us. We sat down and in a moment Sudha had tore her kurta on one of the edges of the asbestos sheets. We got up and choose our places carefully and then again sat down to enjoy this unobstructed 360degree view. The sun had set by now and the sky had changed into a pink dress by now. Even the moon had come out to greet us. It was the one before the full moon, and I remembered mums telling me that this one is brighter than the full moon. And it was; shinning away to glory. I attempted a few camera shots and they came out good. By now all the surrounding scenery had changed into silhouettes against the now magenta- purple sky. This breeze, these colours actually soothed all the memories of that stifling, hot, day. We eased back to this shore without a thought in the mind, just walking with one foot ahead of the other.

When out of the trance, that craving for tea had returned. We moved in the direction of our hotel (still on the river promenade) just after a few minutes there was a very attractive board for a cafe. We entered the premises to find us amidst an historical structure. On reading the legend alongside we came to knew that this place had been the venue for the celebrated 'Saraighat' battle. I admit my ignorance; I had heard the word 'Saraighat' the first time when we had boarded the train of the same name at Alipurduar. Bless the Indian Railways for keeping some part of the history still alive. So, curious we read on... The battle was fought in 1671 between the Mughals and the Ahom Empire. The ahoms had won this memorable war inspite of being the weaker side. The place still had the atmosphere within its ruins. We moved on and found the cafe tucked in one corner and it didn’t look inviting at all. Braving our instincts we ordered for some tea to be told there wasn’t any. This was the third time since morning that either the tea was bad or it was not available. Sudha commented, "Are we truly in Assam? The tea capital of India?" we ordered coffee to go with a dish of pakodas. The attendant suggested we go and sit beyond the restaurant hall. We too moved in that direction and actually came upon the Brahmaputra. This wide terrace opened directly on the Brahmaputra with the ruins of Saraighat in the background. It was THE location. We sat down to enjoy the view. There were a few people around, on close observation we realised they were mostly courting couples, what a fabulous place these Guwahatietes had. Next to us an old couple was sitting enjoying the view and they gave us a cordial smile. By this time our pakodas and coffee had arrived. The pakodas were actually dal wadas but very yummy, and the coffee was nice too. Sudha and I both sat in silence each accompanied by her own thoughts, maybe of the day gone by or maybe the time beyond. Tomorrow when we travelled to Shillong, it would be the last leg of our trip. This spontaneous, sometimes surprising sometimes shocking trip, sprinkled with fights and giggles, how would we remember it?