Part 8 Aug 13^th  2011

Shillong-Cherrapunji


We were supposed to report at the Meghalaya Tourism office at 8.30 a.m. Accordingly we finished breakfast of some Gujrati-Marwadi delicacies at a sweetmeat shop, located conveniently next to the hotel. The place was full with what seemed like the tourist crowd. We had decent breakfast with again some ‘milky’ tea. As we neared the Meghalaya Tourism office we saw a middle-age couple waiting there. It was about twenty five minutes past eight. Then next the bus was there and a young chap was ushering us in the bus. He said there were some more passengers yet to report and hence we waited patiently. In a quarter of an hour we had started on the journey- to Cherrapunji. I call this my ‘6th standard geography textbook’ trip. I had never even realised that I had this wish until this joy I felt made me realise that this was indeed a wish! We had moved out of Shillong going up and down the hill. It had been drizzling continuously since morning and the surroundings were under a blanket of mist; almost reluctant to get out of it. The middle-age couple was sitting ahead of us and I heard them chatting in Marathi. I was curious of finding someone from so near in a faraway land and initiated a conversation with them. And that was the extent of my effort to this ‘conversation’! The lady was politely interested but the man was suffering from a severe case of verbal diarrhoea. For the next three-fourths of an hour I was at the receiving end of a nonstop monologue on every topic under the sun. The wife grunted in between and Sudha smirked at what was a situation I had brought upon myself. But the worst feature of this situation was the spits of red betel juice coming our way whenever this person turned around to emphasize a point in his monologue. Sudha and I had already tried out every position and placed ourselves so as to avoid this unwanted shower. I tried looking out of the window to show this person how interested I was to take in the vista outside but to little success. Some of bits I listened to told me that he was an executive with the telecom company, BSNL. His wife had just joined him here and hence they were taking this trip to get familiar with the region. Since his wife suffered with motion sickness they were taking this day trip; probably that betel juice shower was the real reason for a motion sickness. It was sometime before he took the hint and we couldn’t help giggling as soon as he turned his back to us. After the storm the calm was more cherished and we truly started taking in the pictures coming in through the window.

It was a very different terrain to what I had ever seen or maybe I should say it was a very different ‘arrangement’ of the terrain. There were enormous meadows on both sides to give an impression of plain lands stretching themselves to the horizon. But suddenly these meadows had drops of thousands of feet to the real plains. These plains then stretched themselves to the horizon with numerous swamps and a boundless sky overhead, full of clouds. These plains, we were later to be informed, were part of the famous Ganges delta of Bangadesh. At places where the fog was dense, one felt these ‘High’ fields themselves were the limit and then just as we turned the corner those sudden cliffs came into picture. Further this landscape was sprinkled with signs of inhabitation in forms of concrete hamlets. There was hardly any human presence around on this lazy Sunday morning but alternately the faithful must be at the Sunday mass. A church spire was visible even in the smallest of the settlement. The human presence was somewhat surprisingly confirmed by lines of clothing put out for drying. Suddenly we stopped and our guide for the day introduced himself. He was a post graduate student at the university reading English literature. He didn’t mention the nature of his job with the tourism office but it must be one of those summer jobs. He informed us that the place we had stopped at was the site of a gruesome battle in the 1971 war for liberation of Bangladesh. The bridge we had just crossed been the point of contention and it was damaged badly then. Just a few meters ahead were steps taking us to a vantage point for clear views of nearby waterfalls. We got down finding some souvenir shops around selling handmade bamboo articles. I took a few steps towards the bridge and sent out a prayer towards the selfless soldiers who had lost their lives, on both sides. We ran down the steps to view the waterfall next. There was a long vista of overlapping hills and a river running in between too, exactly as one draws when a child. We took some snaps to show our appreciation and were ready to leave. The ‘latecomers’ who had delayed our departure in the morning were delaying it now too. I guessed they were a bunch of men from some non-descript office here on either an official trip or an office picnic. They had been getting very friendly with another of our fellow passenger, a French lady. She, a professor was in this region on an exchange programme. This group of men were busy clicking pictures with her at every scenic point, which had started irritating everyone including our guide.

The bus finally moved ahead. We were passing through a hilly region now and the middle-age Marathi lady was experiencing motion sickness. And then the inevitable happened. On the floor of the bus! I have an unsympathetic view about this; that people should be prepared beforehand by means of self knowledge. Everyone cringed and trying to divert our attention the guide started to describe our next destination, the start point of the ‘seven sisters’ waterfall’. These are seven waterfalls one after the other coming down a continuous cliff in the shape of ‘u’. They are named after the seven states of NE, popularly also called the ‘seven sister’ states. By this time we were inside a fenced area and there seemed a viewing area all set with decorative railing ahead. Sudha and I rushed ahead to see a small stream coming quietly towards the edge of what seemed a cliff running down to hundreds of meter. Just before it vanished from our view it dashed on a rock jutting out of the cliff. The tranquillity of the stream was all gone and under the influence of gravity this stream dashed down with such force as if to cut itself into millions of droplets all white, foamy with the force. The sheer vigour it was giving out was arresting to the visitor. We shifted our gaze ahead to the green mountains and beyond it the blue ones. Again they were an omnipresent factor on this trip. But beyond this point was that plain surface sprinkled with green and blue exactly like the satellite pictures of earth. It excited everyone to see these plains of Bangladesh.

 

 

With our sight we were in that beautiful neighbouring country of India. One couldn’t have enough of the spectacle but we started circling the railing in contemplation. At this point we realised that more than three quarters in the trip and we didn’t have a single picture of us together. We immediately set out to remedy the situation and asked a couple passing by to click us. It turned out to be a beautiful picture with all the green and blue in the back ground. There was still time to start to our next stopover and we moved into a restaurant standing alone next to the parking area. Only black tea was available and we accepted it happily. There was some European league football match on and the cook was as engrossed in it as the other customers. We too enjoyed it till it was time to move on.

The next we stopped at what seemed like a rocky outcrop but actually was one of the most famous cave of Meghalaya. Meghalaya is as famous for its caves as for Cherrapunji. I remembered seeing a documentary sometime back on what is called ‘cave diving’. Many of the caves are full of dark water with the stalactites hanging from the top to give it a eerie atmosphere; these caves attract the adventurers who part walk part swim to cross through them. I was very happy that we were doing nothing of such kind and were just going to go through the cave. We were given elaborate instructions about everything from bats to unknown creatures lurking in the puddles of water to mind the overhanging stalactites. Then we were very strictly told about the road to be followed, first right, then left, then right and what not along with the warning that one wrong turn would leave us in a blind alley and maybe circling inside till we were rescued. My heart was already beating faster and I was feeling so very alive. Leaving our footwear we moved into the dark hole ahead. After adjusting our eyes to the darkness inside we inspected those million year old stalactite formations. There were some strategically placed lights inside but giving only that much radiance to show the path and without disturbing the atmosphere. We passed on sometimes bowing and sometimes hopping towards a bridge and here I banged my head. Ahhh…but no damage done we moved to what seemed like the exit, the light at the end of the tunnel. Sudha clicked a picture of me as we were coming out of it and I treasure it as much.

The others were yet to come out and we inspected some of the small shops surrounding the entrance. This seemed like a popular stop on the tourist sector judging by the no of shops. Perched on a ‘Nescafe’ machine I saw an extremely beautiful butterfly. It had shiny black wings with a sky blue border. Was it the famous species ‘Kaiser-e-hind’ (emperor of India) who had dropped by to have a cup of Nescafe just like us mortals? Maybe! As I was clicking it another one with rusty brown wings came for a coffee. This made the black and blue one to move on to the toffee jars, maybe they had had a fight?

It was around eleven and the sky had started to clear out. We were next taken to a place with beautiful views of the Bangladeshi plains. Everyone rushed down excitedly to have a sight of this ‘foreign’ country, especially the office picnic troupe. Maybe they were especially patriotic with a fascination for everything ‘foreign’. The view in front of us was simply exquisite. From this particular vantage point the plains had spread over the whole vista. They were coloured green, blue, like earlier but now the browns were visible too. The scene changed in between when the sunlight directly fell on those small water bodies turning them into molten gold. We took in the whole landscape in awe. Nearby I noticed a bee buzzing on a wildflower and clicked it to complete the picture of this memory. From this splendour of nature we moved to a park famous for its orchids. Ofcourse we knew what was coming next- there wouldn’t be any of them now as it wasn’t the season. There was a plant nursery with some exquisite collection we would be able to visit though. This place was blooming with flowers as we entered. There were many fruit trees planted in between some kiosks used for picnics. One was actually on and all of them gave us a smile. The guide later informed us that most of the defence personnel bring their families on outing here. I liked the thought so much, here in cities we have almost forgotten about picnics. We moved around the place, moving from shadow to light and vice versa. Even after a circumambulation of the whole place we couldn’t find this nursery and started towards the exit and there it was. I’m not very knowledgeable about different flora but I’m a fan of the greens and was enjoying the experience. The attendant called my attention to a particular plant but I couldn’t see how it was interesting. It looked like part climber part plant somewhat similar to a money plant but this lady was gesturing as if it was the showstopper here. I obliged and clicked a picture just to make her happy and made my exit. Outside I narrated the incident to Sudha and she said, “You idiot! It was that famous carnivorous plant.” Errr..I didn’t know that. She then informed me that there’s a story about it in Satyajit Ray’s famous ‘Feluda’ series. Or was it Byomkesh Bakshi? I was hooked and after coming back I bought the whole Feluda series and read it from cover to cover but didn’t find a story about it. There is just a mention of it by Jatayu once. Maybe it is a Byomkesh Bakshi mystery. However I was extremely happy to have seen this extremely singular example of nature. Isn’t this what travel is all about?

We next came to the workshop of a traveller with purpose. The Ramkrishna Mission started by Swami Vivekanada. The North east of India has always had a majority of tribal population. At the time when the mainland India was immersed in the singular aim of freedom from the British, it was the missionaries both Christian and native who took it upon them to introduce the tribals to modern science, healthcare and education. There is a very interesting book by Alexander Frater, ‘Chasing the monsoons’. The author stirred by his passion for the monsoons undertakes a journey through India which reaches its climax in Cherrapunji. The author’s great uncle a Scotsman, a missionary lived and worked in these parts taking back a picture and many stories from this region which actually triggered this journey taken by his descendant. The selfless and dedicated work by these missionaries actually reflects in the ‘civilized’ thoughts and existence of the people of this region as compared to the mainland population. The Mission here apart from the schools and hostels holds a very informative anthropological museum for the whole region. This place essentially explained the whole demographics of the region and introduced us to the lifestyle of the people. I was so engrossed in the displays that I had to run back to the bus when I heard it honking for me.

We were finally in Cherrapunji now. The Mecca of all monsoon lovers? We passed the post office and I clicked to take the picture back as a souvenir.

 

Cherrapunji is a small hamlet with its rains as its claim to fame. We passed it to move into the countryside. The place had only green grasslands stretching all the way to the horizon where it met the overhanging dark clouds. It could start raining anytime. Yes, everything definitely resembled the Scottish landscape. Alexander Frater’s ancestor must have felt at home here. Through all this we were heading towards world’s fourth highest waterfall. But here the journey was as inviting as the destination. In a while we reached a fenced portion with some shacks around. These were restaurants catering to the tourists and each had a balcony with one of the most overwhelming views. The lunch arrangements were already made and all of us rushed towards the viewing gallery. Indeed this must be world’s one of the most enormous waterfalls. The display was overwhelming; even though we were hundreds of meters away we could feel the droplets from the waterfall. What was endearing was the setting. The cliff where the fall was originating was surrounded on all sides by green hills with the water-body where it concluded placed in a deep valley. The scene was unspoiled by any human intervention. We reluctantly moved inside for our lunch but kept peeking out of the windows in between to take in this beauty. As we were getting ready to board the bus back to Shillong it started raining. And it was the perfect climax for a visit to Cherrapunji. I stepped out in the rain to let those drops slide over me; to memorize that smell. That was when it sunk in- my visit to the wettest place on earth. We noticed a lady selling pineapples and decided to try them. She was a local and was covered in the traditional rain gear. She was probably the most cheerful stranger I’ve ever met who sold us the sweetest pineapple I’ve ever had. And we started our journey back on this sweet note.

It was an uninterrupted travel back to Shillong. The scenes passed one another like a motion picture. The glen sprinkled here and there with the hamlets the again those green hills and the Bangladeshi plains stretching to the horizon. There were cemeteries on the outskirts of the villages dating maybe hundreds of years back. All those missionaries from different corners of the world all resting in peace under the vast open sky. There were clouds hanging from the sky now which itself had spread to infinity. This display of clouds on the canvas of the sky gives Meghalaya its name- the abode of clouds.

 

Contemplating over the day’s happening, we had already reached Shillong and the practicalities of life. Hence we crossed over from the Meghalaya tourism office to the bus station to enquire about the timings of the buses leaving for Guwahati the next day. We were planning to reach Guwahati by evening to rest and board our train back to Calcutta the very next day at noon. As usual there was no one at the ‘enquiries’ and we peeped inside a couple of doors to find an official sitting behind one of them. He was first of all surprised to hear that we were travelling tomorrow. He asked, “Do you know the date tomorrow?” “It is the 14^th of August”, we answered in unison. He raised his eyebrows and told us in a matter of fact manner that there won’t be any buses for any destinations tomorrow evening. He kindly advised us to leave for Guwahati tomorrow morning as early as possible. We knew it was the Independence day eve tomorrow but still couldn’t grasp the seriousness of the event here. We planned for a 9’o clock start and proceeded towards our hotel for rest. As we reached the Police Bazaar road we peeped in a few shops. The Naga shawls were extremely beautiful but voluminous and I thought about my poor bag before withdrawing my offer for it. We window shopped for a while and also collected some assorted food items like sandwiches, rolls, pastries which were to formulate into our dinner. By the time we came back to our room we were tired on our feet and had an early night.