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7th June 2018, 11:11
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| BHPian  Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| To escape in-laws, I became an outlaw and fled to the waiting arms of the 7 sisters…and their cousin a.k.a. Pune to Pune via Arunachal in 20 days, 16 states and 9048 KM  One fine Sunday morning, I woke up after we had celebrated a friend’s promotion the night earlier. What was surprising though, was the “Oh you are awake! Good morning! Here’s your coffee!” Wait what? Coffee? In bed? Hadn’t she put a ban on that 10 years ago, after I had spilt some on the new bedsheets? She’s acting mighty nice today. In fact so nice, that I am suspicious. Is this the calm before a storm? I didn’t forget her birthday did I? Or was it our anniversary? And then I heard the three magic words, which every man dreads “Mom’s gonna visit” Oh the horror! Now don’t get me wrong. My mother in law is a wonderful person. It’s the small things which are a pain. Like having to step out on the terrace for a smoke (hello summer sun, you are bright and hot, but I can still see you snigger looking down at me) or not able to roam around the house, only in my shorts, or forced small talk at the dinner table. No time to despair. Shots have been fired and evasive action is the need of the hour! Think!!!!!! (Damn you hangover) And the day dragged on. Me: What if I pretend I have a stomach ache or feign some illness? Inner me: Never worked for you in school did it? You always had to do your homework anyway! Me: What if I make a scene? Pick a fight? Throw a tantrum? Inner me: Let me count the times this has ever worked in front of her. ZERO. Me: What if I……Wait! I got it! Unakoti! Inner me: Nailed it dude! HiFi! Unakoti is a beautiful Shiva pilgrimage site dating back to 7th – 9th centuries which has these massive stone carvings which are about 30 feet high   Very very far away!!! In far away Tripura!!!!  Perfect! What better place to take refuge, than the Gods, when in trouble? Read more about Unakoti here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unakoti The first time I had heard of Unakoti, was sometime in Jan-Feb from my friend Ashutosh, when he had shared the pics with me, and we had discussed how awesome it would be to visit in person. Time had come to walk the talk. I called him up, set up a rendezvous and stepped out to meet him. I explained my predicament, and his mirth changed to admiration when he heard my proposed solution. It seemed to me, "You cunning, cunning fiend!" was all that he could think at that moment. After all Ashutosh too is married. Great! We had the "why" and "where" nailed down. All we needed now, was to figure out "how" Turns out, it was not as easy as it looked. So many options
So may pros and cons to evaluate
So many problems to consider
After numerous rounds of discussions, talks, planning and disagreements we were ready.
 So that was it. Target date: 15 may. One day after mother in law arrived. (Hey I was there to welcome her. In fact I delayed my important trip by one day just to be there to welcome her.) Target time: 3 AM (This was more cunning on my part. 3 AM meant I had to sleep for a minimum of 8 hours before that. Less time spent interacting with guests) Garibaldi managed to successfully cross the Alps Papillon managed to escape from prison so many times Numerous actors like Steve McQueen, Rutger Hauer, Stallone and Pelé managed to escape from POW camps in WWII movies But none of them were escaping from their mother in law. Nor did any of them eventually return back to the daughter of that mother in law. What did fate have in store for us? I could see light at the end of the tunnel. Was that success and glory? Or was that a train approaching me head on. I didn't know. What I did know, was that it was time to head home and be on my best behaviour before breaking the news to the wife #ProTip for all Padawans: I picked up an electric blanket for my mother in law, on the way home (she suffers from knee pains) Without being told. And that's how you defuse a volcano Coming up next: Day one, Pune to Vijaywada In the meanwhile, some teasers. Last edited by Aditya : 29th January 2020 at 17:18. Reason: Rule #11 |
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15th October 2018, 10:50
| #2 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
Posts: 973
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| Day 1. On the run. Pune to Vijaywada Settling in - exploring the limits of the car as well as our own - the moron, his bike and cell phone - gaining 60 minutes over google maps - and the best of all, this auspicious sighting Har har Mahadev at the crack of dawn! So finally after endless discussions and planning, the day had finally arrived. May the 15th, 2018. 03.00 AM! Ignition time!! Target halt for day one was Vijaywada. There were several reasons for this:
 I picked up Ashutosh from his place, and officially our expedition had finally commenced! Getting out of Pune was a breeze. Being early hours we encountered only truck traffic. Besides the occasional smoke/bio/tea break, we reached Solapur in no time. By now, we had settled in comfortably. Here is a pro tip for all noobs: Whenever you go on long drives, especially with people who are drivers themselves, it is imperative to define boundaries. Over the years, I have suffered people who will advise caution, when you have begun the overtaking manoeuver or point out the obvious like "watch out for that truck". All these things do nothing but break the driver's concentration. Bottom line: Don't! At high speeds, your well-meaning suggestions could be fatal. Fortunately, I had no such problems with Ashutosh. We, of course, knew each other for quite some time and had a fair idea of each other's personality. In fact, we gelled so well, that many a time our conversation ran like Me: Clear? Him: Yup. And I would switch lanes and overtake from the left. Note it was me who was soliciting information, not him offering it on his own. In my books, this is a sign of a valuable travel companion. By now, the sun had just peeped over the horizon. We were cruising comfortably when suddenly, on our left, we came across the magnificent walls of the Naladurg Fort. Named after it's creator, Nala-Raja, who was a vassal of the Chalukyas of Kalyani, it is an architectural marvel. Spread over 115 acres, the 2.5 KM perimeter wall boasts of 144 Buruj (watchtowers). Security was further enhanced by a moat around it (Unlike majority of the mountain forts in Maharashtra, Naladurg is a land fort) A canal was dug, to bring water from the nearby Bori river, to feed this moat.    Barring one or two micro patches, the road conditions had been excellent...till we reached Omerga, where a major highway construction work was underway. We were discussing the road conditions and the admirable work done by Shri Nitin Gadkari, when suddenly we passed a board: Welcome to Karnataka Whaaaat? Are we lost? Already? Heh! Nope, explained Ashutosh. It is quite natural to assume while travelling to Bhagyanagar from Pune, one would drive out of Maharashtra, right into Telangana. Unfortunately, the state boundaries beg to differ. NH 65 (Maharashtra - Karnataka - Telangana) A small note here, while we are on the topic of highways India has a whopping road network of 5,603,293 KM (compare this with the Indian rail network of 67,386 KM) and growing daily. Truckers are literally the bloodline of our nation, transporting goods from one corner of the country to the other. We are witness to this. We passed a MH-15 (Nashik) truck in Meghalaya!!!!!!!! We rolled down the windows and hollered "Jai Maharashtra!" It's difficult to gauge who was more delighted, us or the truck driver, who grinned from ear to ear! Traditionally, nobody has cared much about our fellow citizens, who actually drive these trucks. Fortunately, things are improving. The Government has issued an advisory: Every few KM on the highway, truck lay byes need to exist. These offer a safe place to pull over, toilets and rest facilities. Sounds good, but what's the reality? We decided to check one out for ourselves Easy to spot signage And the truckers have reciprocated in kind. The only garbage we saw was inside the dustbin! We actually used the facilities. Can confirm cleanliness and running water  Notice the properly demarcated parking slots and the solar-powered lights.  10/10 on whoever came up with this advisory. Note: I am not saying this is enough. But this is definitely a huge improvement on earlier conditions. e.g. In West Bengal we saw truckers pull up next to a petrol pump. Parked next to a garbage dump, they had crawled under their trucks and were cooking! This basic concept definitely has scope for improvement. Clean places to rest cook sleep, condom vending machines, massage, health check-up, internet, pharmacy...the sky is the limit. Since morning, we were running on water, nicotine, and tea. As we neared Bhagyanagar, it was lunchtime. Pit stop time to top up our bellies. Heavy spicy food like Biryani was out of the question. Upset stomachs was something we couldn't afford. So we decided on a simple fare of Dosa/Idli. Ashutosh, the official expedition navigator, informed me that actually entering Bhagyanagar was out of the question. We would be stuck in traffic, like forever. Fortunately, there is an excellent Outer Ring Road which circumnavigates the city. This reminded me of Bangalore's NICE Road and we were discussing how outer ring roads are becoming more and more common, when, out of the blue, it happened!!!!! Here I am, driving in the centre lane, about to cross a square, when this moron overtakes me on his bike. Talking on his phone! From the left lane!! Cuts across me!!! And takes a right turn!!!! Swiftly changing gears, I literally stood on my brakes (thank you ABS) and disaster was averted by a few inches. Imagine even touching that guy with my car, carrying MH numberplate, in Telangana. The cops would have had a field day. (Kolkatta cops: You ain't met us yet. Haha!) We let out a huge collective sigh of relief, along with the choicest expletives. With a unanimous vote that the worst moron drivers can be found in Telangana, we hit the Outer Ring Road. Stretching 158 KM, with eight lanes, this is surely one of the best roads I have ever driven. It offers multiple entry/exit points, clearly marked with proper signage all along the route. 110 horses under my hood were screaming "Let go off the reins dumbass!" and I floored it! Like all good things in life, the ORR too eventually came to an end. By now we had been driving almost non stop for 10 hours and the sun was raining fury from above. High time we took a break. Somewhere opposite Ramoji Film City gates, we spotted a small place that looked promising. Ok. No shade to park, but it advertised meals. We pulled in and enjoyed Frooti, while they prepared our food. I am not much of a rice eater, but Rice Plate would become our staple till the expedition ended. Best. Food. Ever. Light on the pocket. Light on the stomach. Neither of us ever had any stomach problems during all those days. Highly recommended. Hunger satiated Keys sit on the restaurant table Vijaywada is still a few hours away Time to move on Even now, the motorcycle incident was still playing on my mind. What if I had hit him? I managed a save this time, who knows whats going to happen in the future? I do! Was it karma that Sankatmochan Mahabali Hanuman gave us darshan at the opportune moment? I like to think so, even though I am not a particularly religious person. Nothing bad is gonna happen.  Drive safe balak! I gotcha back!  By the time we reached Vijaywada, fatigue had set in. All we now wanted was a nice cup of hot coffee and a bath. Ashutosh identified a hotel and we checked in. Room service coffee and idli perked us up. After a nice bath, we rested for a while, went out for dinner and eventually called it a day. ------------------------------ Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll:  Hotel: Hotel Capital Residency (via OYO Rooms) (live map)  Coming up next: Day two, Vijaywada to Cuttack Last edited by navin : 29th January 2020 at 16:24. Reason: typos |
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21st October 2018, 13:51
| #3 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 2. The devil in the car. Vijaywada to Cuttack Our first taste and test of the Golden Quadrilateral - the devil in our car - police shenanigans at the state border - to push or not to push, that is the decision - my first gay admirer ever All happening in the land of the Tiranga  During our 1st leg, on our way to the North East, we had actually travelled South. Today was the day we would swing left and actually start heading North...via the Golden Quadrilateral!  Started in 2001, The Golden Quadrilateral was the brainchild of the then PM Shri Atal Bihari Vajpayee. Spanning 5,846 KM, it is the longest highway network in Asia and the fifth longest in the world. Passing through 13 states, it offers an excellent network of highways, to reach any of the four cardinal points of the country. We pushed off from Vijaywada, early in the morning around 07:30. The weather was perfect, sparse traffic at this hour, and road to Cuttack lay ahead.  Having missed breakfast, our stomachs were growling and we were absolutely dying for a cup of coffee and something to eat. Fortunately, 50 KM later, we spotted this. Perfect!  When they built the highway, they also built the Toll Naka (of course!) This Highway Nest (Mini! dont forget the Mini!) is just beyond the toll booth Built and owned by the NHAI, it is operated by Raghava (under the watchful eye of his little sister)  Raghava is a local youth. Having just completed his 12th, he has enrolled himself in college, to become an Engineer. Noticing that there was no one else around, he shared with us, his secret... He wants to join the NDA and become a Military Officer!! Why not? Who knows? Perhaps we had been fortunate enough to meet the future Chief of Army Staff! We wished him the very best of luck for achieving his dream (Ashutosh even recommended a few books for him), and we were on our way. Folks, in case you travel from Vijaywada on NH-16, please do make sure you stop for tea/coffee/snacks at his shop. Remember, helping hands are better than praying lips. Your business would help in his education. Raghava the boy and his dream can be found here  Else you can reach him on +91 99492 19691 Google maps estimated ~15 hours drive. Going by our experience yesterday, we thought this should put us comfortably in Cuttack, around dinner time. Would have worked out as per plan, but little did we know, we had the devil driving with us. Spot the devil  During our planning stage, we had figured out, cell phone network could be a major issue, especially in the North East, due to the mountains and heavy forests. This could mean no access to google maps. With an average travel time of 12-14 hours a day, this was simply not acceptable. Plan B: Stand alone navigator device After considering several options we finally settled on Map My India LX350 Yesterday, we had not bothered much with the route. Ashutosh was well versed with the road till Hyderabad. After that we had relied on Google Maps on the phone and had reached Vijaywada as expected. Today was the day, we started using the navigator. From the driving perspective, this audio feedback navigation technology is a boon. You hear audio instructions so your eyes are focused more on the road. And this is how the devil leads you down the wrong path, by saying things, by making you listen and making you follow. Me: Dude! Does this look like the Golden Quadrilateral to you? Ashutosh: Nope. Me: As per the navigator we are on the blue line. Ashutosh: Hmm. I agree. Something is wrong. Lets stop and enquire. I pulled over and Ashutosh talked to some local. We were told, this is the old highway, which runs parallel to the new highway. Go straight and use the fork to join the new highway. Sounds logical. Onward! Half an hour later, still no fork. Was that local pulling a fast one on us? Did I see him smirk as we drove away? How much time have we wasted already? It was time to phone a friend. It so happened, Ashutosh's mamaji was driving back from Visakhapatnam that day, so we called him and explained the whole situation to him. To our dismay mamaji started to laugh! I don't know who he is I don't know why he said this But you guys are on the wrong road and need to find the correct route. There is only one highway! Is it possible, the navigator has led us astray? Out come the phones and our worst fears are confirmed. We were being led to NH-16 via some out of the way longer route. Hmmmm. Perhaps some technical glitch. Let's use the phone map to get back on track. A break in the median. A U turn. And we travelled back till we hit the correct route. Total time wasted: around one and a half hours. Lesson learnt: Zero! We were still thinking this was a "minor technical glitch". Our naivety would cost us very heavily in the days to come. Back on the correct route, when suddenly Told you balak, I gotcha back!  Finally! We were on the NH-16. We were actually on the official Golden Quadrilateral! This! This is what's it's all about! The road is beautiful. The car is rearing to go. The traffic is sparse. And we gobble it all up, kilometre after kilometre. Eventually, we cross the Godavari using the Dowleswaram barrage.  For us Maharashtrians, rivers are well....rivers. For us the wide waters of the Godavari are truly a sight to behold! The screen grab above from the dash cam video does not do justice. This should properly convey the true majestic beauty and expanse.  Dowleswaram barrage on the Godavari We are now running north, parallel to the east coast of India.   Freeeeedoooooom! Finally! We are really really free! Nope! Not so fast! We are the Regional Transport Authority, and we are here to ensure that you don't enjoy a comfortable drive. In fact we get paid to go to any lengths to see it is as stressful as possible. And just to rub it in, we call it "safety reasons" Presenting exhibit A: Barricades on the National Highway 16  Notice the crossing right after the barricades. Notice the road heading left at a right angle, off from the highway. It probably leads to a village or something. This is a scenario where slow moving traffic merges with the fast moving traffic and road safety is definitely important. Common sense dictates, the logical place to put the barricades is on the road leading to the village. Definitely not on the highway! Imagine you are on the highway, doing good speed. Fast connectivity is the main reason they built the highway in the first place. Suddenly, out of the blue, all traffic starts merging towards the centre lane. Why? Because the barricades are placed in such a way that only the centre lane is passable. But the horror doesn't stop here. There are absolutely no reflectors on many of the barricades. Miss it at night and you just might end up totalling your vehicle. In fact, some places do not even have proper barricades. They are replaced with tyres painted(originally) white. The white is long gone. Now coated with diesel dust, which absolutely matches the road colour, especially at night. Besides the safety aspect, imagine the amount of fuel being wasted. Every time you brake a moving vehicle, and accelerate later, more fuel is consumed. Might not sound much, but factor in the number of such barricades across all highways, and the number of vehicles which cross it (especially trucks) and the number probably runs in crores of rupees. All of this because it is a "sin" to speed on the highways. Been there. Suffered it. Survived it. These death traps are an epidemic, especially after Vijaywada, all the way to the North East. (Arunachal has just a few. Sikkim none) So if you are driving on these roads, especially at night, be very very careful. By now, it was very late, the sun was hot, and we were very very very hungry. Lunch time! We pulled over at Sri Vijaya Durga Dhaba & Restaurant, a small place with a view and delicious food, which is served in moulded paper plates. Would have preferred banana leaf instead, but no time to think about it. Food food food! We need food!  Here the food is cooked on a traditional wood fire and the place was full of aroma which made our mouths water. We requested traditional rice plates, and while we waited, we guzzled some Frooti and soaked in the surroundings. Right across the highway, we could see mango trees.  Ever climbed a tree and enjoyed raw mangos? Yup! Many times in childhood. Taste awesome with salt! Wanna try out after lunch? See the fence? See the sun? Feel the heat? Naah. You are right! Maybe some time later. Yeah! Maybe later. Men and machine finished a much deserved break and we were on our way, once again! Since the phone call in the morning, Ashutosh's mamaji had been in frequent touch with us, keeping a remote eye on our progress. They eventually computed, the point on the highway where we would cross each other. And thus, I finally got the chance to thank our saviour of the day in person.  The sun had set, we had been travelling since 730 in the morning and we realised, all our calculations had come unravelled. To start with, we had wasted precious hours in the morning travelling on the wrong route. Then, the barricade menace had further slowed us down, in terms of average speed. Mamaji had suggested a night halt at Bramhapur, and we were discussing the pros and cons, when we hit the AP-OR state border.  Trucks! Lot of trucks! All neatly queued up! We were wondering why, when one trucker waved us on. We managed to crawl to the front of the queue and figured out what was happening. The police had set up a "check post" and were "checking" the truck drivers license, PUC and god knows what else. Anyone with even rudimentary knowledge of the "parallel economy" in India knows exactly what this "checking means" When India switched to GST system, it also meant all the octroi nakas were made redundant. In fact stopping the time wastage (The Indian Trucker association has estimated, truck drivers waste, on an average, 30% of their commute time, waiting at octroi nakas, check posts, toll nakas et.al.) and associated corruption, was one of the reasons for implementing GST. Octroi gone? No problem! We still have the legal authority to stop you. This time we want to see your license and other papers! It was absolutely infuriating to see these people so easily make a mockery out of a well intentioned Government decision. By now we were nearing Bramhapur. Pit stop for fuel and a hastily held conference. Shall we stop? It's night time. It's been a long day. Mmmm. Do you want to? Dunno. Do you want to? Dude! We have entered a cyclic discussion! Heh! True. But do you want to stop? And suddenly, The hell with it. Let's push! Who dares wins! Bajrang bali ki jai! Cuttack! Here we come! Note: There is a lesson here for people, who might travel long distances in future, with other people. When physical and mental stamina runs out, if you continue, you continue on collective morale and willpower. Both of us were just as fatigued. But it was both of us, who really wanted to push it. We ended up travelling almost 18 hours that day. It would not have been possible, if we were not similarly motivated. During the expedition, we faced many such situations, were sheer willpower carried the day. We pushed on, travelling the highway at night. By now we had confirmed bookings for our night halt at Cuttack. All we need to do was arrive. Eventually, we did just that. It was a tremendous relief to pull over at the hotel, get out of the car and stretch. Our check in was swift and efficient. We reached our room, kicked off our shoes, and put up our feet on the table. The hotel porter had brought up our luggage. I tipped him. Dhanyawad bhaiyya! Good night! Good night Sir! I love you! What happened next involves some unconstitutional words so I will censor myself. And during this whole incident Ashutosh was grinning from ear to ear like an idiot!!! Ah well! With friends like this, who needs enemies? Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll  Hotel Hotel New Jasmine (via OYO Rooms)  Coming up next: Day three; Cuttack to Kolkata Last edited by RedTerrano : 21st October 2018 at 18:57. |
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21st October 2018, 19:40
| #4 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
Posts: 973
Thanked: 7,654 Times
| Day 3. Crossing the Laxman Rekha. Cuttack to Kolkata Driving in the land of Subhash Babu - scared, but we still cross over to the dark side - the old man with the heart of gold  Medical science tells us, there are more than 650 named skeletal muscles in the human body. Many muscles work together as complex muscles. e.g. Our neck is held up by
It is amazing, how much and how fast, the body can adapt and cope. By next morning, I was back to normal. Both these days had been quite hectic, involving twelve plus hours of driving. Compared to this, today would be a breeze. Google said, only seven and a half hours.  Cuttack to Kolkata via NH-16 Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose This name will always shine true and bright in the History of our Freedom struggle. Whenever we hear this name, we immediately associate it with Bengal. No surprises there. It was Kolkata where his political career blossomed. It was Kolkata, where he donned the military uniform for the first time, as General Officer Commanding (GOC) of the volunteer corps. It was Kolkata, from where, he managed to escape from his house on Elgin Road, right under the noses of the British guards posted around it. However, not many people are aware, that Netaji was born in Cuttack! He did not move to Kolkata, till he was 16, when he got admitted to The Presidency College, after securing second position in the matriculation examination. Today we would drive in the land of Subhash Babu, from his Janma bhoomi to his Karma Bhoomi!  The road to Kolkata lies via NH-16 which is part of the Golden Quadrilateral.  The day is hot but the drive is relaxed and enjoyable. A/c on, Kishore Kumar singing Raah pe rehte hai on the system, and before we knew it, we had joined him in his singing.  Trucks occupy the fast lane, but we are used to it by now. Since there is sparse traffic, we could easily surge on. Wide open spaces. Open roads. Living the petrol head's dream!  All across Odisha, the route is dotted with such fields. The transmission towers seem to be the only sign of modern times. We wondered how much of the landscape has actually changed since Subhash babu's time.   The vista was very very buena indeed! We could have very well been driving on some steppe in Ukraine or Kazakhstan. Maybe a prairie in North America? How about a veld in South Africa? Would we sight any springbok? Perhaps we are in Mongolia and we would meet some horsemen round the next corner? None of the above!!!! Stop day dreaming and stay focused. Because you are in India.  Yup. That genius is coming right towards us. On his bike On the wrong side On a national highway When we are probably doing 130-140 KMPH We are a land of different people. Different cultures, different food habits, different languages. But there is one thing which is common across all people, which unites us. Stupidity. Morons such as these are common across India. This is not the first one I have encountered. This won't be the last. While we are on this topic, here is a "Fun Fact" for all drivers. As per Indian law, the one who has a bigger vehicle, is the culprit. Remind yourself of this, every time you hit your ignition. By now the sun had peaked. We had drained almost 3/4 of our fuel tanks. Time for a pit stop. During the planning stage, when we had realised, we would drive through Odisha, two places had immediately jumped to our minds, Jagannath temple at Puri and the Sun Temple at Konark. Unfortunately, budgetary and time constraints said otherwise. Also, more importantly, this was The Drive, not the usual, run of the mill, touristy visit. Imagine our pleasant surprise and joy when we spotted this, when we pulled in at the petrol pump!  What better sight to relax your stressed out eyes after hours of driving under the blazing sun?  The Government of India has launched a major initiative for switching over to green power, with a target of 100GW solar based electricity production by 2022. We were glad to see this petrol pump in Odisha, keeping up with the initiative.  The petrol pump attendant was a chatty kind of guy. So where have you guys come from? Pune, Maharashtra. Maharashtra? You mean Mumbai? Yup! The same one. Pune is around 150 KM from Mumbai. Some shouting in Odia. Other attendants and staff gather around us. People checking out our number plates. You guys are really from Maharashtra! You have MH number plates! When did you start? Where are you going? Why? So many questions. So many answers. So many tips, advise, do's and don'ts. So much genuine concern. We were absolutely touched. Having topped our tanks with fuel, and our hearts with happiness, we moved on. Soon it was time to top up our stomach! Lunch!  The food at Hotel Gajanan was delicious indeed. Lunch over, bill paid, we settled outside in the shade for a post meal smoke and a chat. It was time to discuss, once again. It was time to talk about the elephant in the room. As citizens of India, The Constitution, guarantees all of us, free passage through all the states of the Union. The local authorities are duty bound to ensure the safety of our person and possessions. By now, we had left our home state Maharashtra and traversed through Karnataka, Telangana, Andhra Pradesh and were now in Odisha. Nowhere during our journey, had we ever felt unsafe, threatened or scared. But now, we were literally on the threshold of West Bengal. Right from the planning stages, we had had huge apprehension about West Bengal. The news papers are always full of some type of violence or rape or murder or worse. All of it happening in West Bengal. Just a few days before we left from Pune, we had read about the horrific crimes which took place, on the eve of the local Panchayat elections. Try as we might, there was simply no route which would let us enter the North East, avoiding West Bengal. We were concerned about this so much, that once we had even contemplated getting a Bangladesh visa, shipping ourselves and our car by sea, and driving all across Bangladesh. Obviously, this had been one of our ideas, which could be categorised under "Very Stupid". So here we were. Sitting an hour or so from the Odisha-West Bengal border. We had discussed this numerous times. Now, discussion time was over. It was time to take a decision: Do we cross the Laxman Rekha, or not. So what do you feel? I don't know dude, what do you feel? Well, imagine the glory if we manage to pull it off! All states in the North East! By road! All the way from Pune! If we get back alive. Hmm true. But why would anyone harm us? Why does the mob do anything? Not everything is logical. Agree. So what do you feel? Ah what the hell! Like the advertisement says, ✓Just do it! ™ Har Har Mahadev! Bolo Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj ki Jai! After all, we were from the land of the Marathas, who had brought lands till Lahore, under their banner! What were mere marauding mobs in front of us? Strange how our mind plays games with us. One mention of Shivaji Maharaj and suddenly, we were not afraid anymore. Do not fear the butterflies in your stomach. Focus on how you can make them fly in formation! Words to live by indeed! Soon we neared the Odisha-West Bengal border. Security seemed to be high. Lot of cops around. Quite a few with guns. Hmmm. Almost there We can see the check post Switch off the sound system 20 feet now Bring out the exact change. Amount is mentioned on the board 10 feet Toll paid The barrier goes up And we have crossed the Laxman Rekha -------------------------------------------------- We are now officially in West Bengal. Did Shivaji Maharaj feel the same, when he went to Agra? Probably. We were inspiring ourselves with Maharaj, but who was his inspiration? Most probably his mothers. Aai Bhavani and Rajmata Jijabai Aaisaheb. This feeling of unease, was to stay with us for all the time we were inside West Bengal borders. Out of all the 19 Indian states we crossed, we, citizens of India, would feel unsafe only in this particular state. Time for a smoke break. Pit stop to soak in the local scenery, and unwind. I am glad we stopped, where we stopped, because we spotted this!  The part at the back is a chopped off bullock cart The part at the front is a chopped off motorcycle fork And this contraption runs on a diesel motor, typically used to bring up water from the well. Indian jugaad at it's finest. And yes, he is going on the wrong side of a National Highway! Like I mentioned earlier, things that unite us! By now, we were fast approaching our final destination, Kolkata. We had confirmed bookings at a hotel near the airport and Ashutosh called up some friends to figure out the optimal route to enter the city. After receiving the instructions, we ditched the navigator (yeah, we were still using it) and switched to Google Maps on the phone. At Dhamtor, around 100 KM from Kolkata, we pulled over for a cup of tea and a smoke, and met Shri Arun Mishra, the gentleman with the biggest heart of gold in West Bengal.  We purchased our tea and stepped out of his small shop for a smoke. He asked us if we had a cigarette to spare. Of course we did. Apparently we were his first customer for the evening (we even saw the milkman come to deliver at his shop) and eventually we started chatting. First thing he asked us, when he came to know we were headed to Kolkata, was if we could get a job for his son!! We were absolutely shocked! How desperate one has to be, to ask random strangers for a job? Life had indeed not been a cake walk for Mr Mishra. After a lifetime of hardships, today he ekes out a living out of his tiny tea shop by the roadside. He suffers from some ailment and requires medical attention. Expected cost: 1,50,000.00 which is beyond his means. He showed us some papers which, frankly speaking, we did not understand, as they were in Bengali. Also we were communicating in broken Hindi and he spoke with a heavy Bengali accent. Ashutosh explained to him (actually wrote it down for him), he could get himself treated under the Rashtriya Swasthya Bima Yojana One can literally book a hospital bed online (all one needs is a valid Aadhar card). Mr. Mishra was pleased and said he would ask his son to help him out. During all this conversation, he had poured us a second round of tea. When we tried to pay, he firmly refused, saying I liked talking to you, and thank you for the cigarette! What can one say to such a man with a heart of gold? We bid adieu with heartfelt Namaskars and moved on. It was evening by the time we entered Kolkata. Thanks to Ashutosh's friends, we knew exactly which route to take and reached our hotel. A shower, dinner and we wrapped up for the day. Tomorrow, we were scheduled to travel to Siliguri. Little did we know then, what we had in store for us the next day. Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll:  Hotel: Kings Crown Hotel (via OYO Rooms)  Coming up next: Day four; Kolkata to Siliguri |
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22nd October 2018, 23:20
| #5 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
Posts: 973
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| Day 4. Highway through hell. Kolkata to Siliguri Robbed by the cops - misled across two states by the Navigation device - Highway robbery on the Swiss cheese road - the heat, dust and the garbage stink - seventeen hours on the highway through hell  Kudtoji Gujar, was the third Sarsenapati(general) of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj's army. Such was his valour, that he was given the accolade of "Prataprao" by Maharaj Himself. In April 1673, he defeated the mighty Vijayapur general Abdul Kareem Bahlolkhan at Umrani, using his wit and cunning. Prataprao appropriated the only water source nearby and encircled the the Vijayapur army at a distance. A ferocious battle ensued under the blazing hot summer sun. With water access cut off, and the Maratha juggernaut on the rampage, Bahlolkhan was so caught between a rock and hard place, that he soon sent an emissary to Prataprao, suing for peace. And Prataprao let him go! Unsurprisingly, this infuriated Maharaj a lot. Prataprao was a very able general, not lacking in personal courage who had proved himself to be a master of warfare multiple times. But he forgot the simple rule: The power to pardon, lies only and only with the king! Maharaj wrote a scathing letter to Prataprao, asking how he, a renowned General of the Maratha army, could show such a lack of judgement. He was further barred from Maharaj's presence, till Bahlolkhan was captured or defeated. This letter hurt Prataprao more than all his war wounds combined till date. Imagine a military general barred from being in the presence of his King! A devotee barred from visiting the temple! Prataprao spent the next few months tracking Bahlolkhan. The fateful day arrived. 24 February, 1674. Prataprao was at some distance from where his army was camped, when he got the news that the enemy had at last been sighted. The logical thing to do was march along with the army. Prataprao, blinded with rage, unsheathed his sword and rode towards the enemy camp. His six companions followed blindly. Such was the loyalty commanded by Prataprao. Seven against the might of the Vijayapur army. The inevitable happened. All seven were surrounded and cut down in minutes after a ferocious and bloody battle. It is said, the Sun's chariot is drawn by seven horses. Seven Maratha braves ascended to heaven that day.
This final crazy attack has been immortalised by the renowned Marathi poet Kusumagraj म्यानातुनि उसळे तरवारीची पात वेडात मराठे वीर दौडले सात Swords unsheathed, fury driven On their steeds rode, the Maratha seven Times change, places change, people probably don't change. Here we were, on the bright May morning, far away from home, on our way to doing something, which quite a few had called crazy. But why not? We were from the land of Prataprao Gujar. We were from the land of Shivaji Maharaj. We were three, not seven. We had 110 horses, not seven. We were Marathas in West Bengal.  L-R Ashutosh, Maneesh , CJ Chandrabhushan (CJ), caught up with office commitments, had not joined us from Pune. He had flown in that morning and arrived at the hotel. Today our target destination was Siliguri. 558 KM away, google said we would make it in approximately 14 hours. A hearty breakfast, hotel bill settled, fuel tanks topped up and we were all set to go. Today would be the first day, where all three of us were together for the first time since leaving Pune. It was a historic moment for us. We were about to set off to unknown lands. Would we arrive home safely? Time would tell.  Kolkata is a historic city. In fact Kolkata was the name of one of the three villages (the other two were Sutanuti and Govindpur), which later merged to become the city which we know today. Like almost all other cities in the world, airports, which were once on the outskirts, have over the years become part of the city. Same is the case with Kolkata. Thanks to CJ, we had to put up in a hotel, very near the airport. This now meant, we had to traverse the whole city to get to the highway. After enjoying the open roads for three days, this was like a bit of a punishment for. Us, now crawling in bumper to bumper traffic, when we were by now used to flying like the wind! Oh the frustration! Route set on the navigation unit, we commenced our journey. Half an hour later, we have travelled only a few kilometres. All roads are unknown to us and we follow the navigator instructions to the letter. Soon we figured out, the road ahead was blocked, due to some construction work. A U turn, the navigator recomputes the new route and we arrive at a junction. This one.  Since there were not signals here, I had lined up the car to queue up and await a chance to turn. And then a traffic warden noticed us. He had been idly standing by the side of the road and he literally grinned in delight the moment he noticed our MH number plates. He dashed towards us, asked me to roll down the window and informed me I had broken traffic rules. You broke the signal. Huh? Where is the signal? You have stopped beyond the zebra crossing. Dude seriously? Can you show me the zebra crossing? Don't argue. I don't know anything. You need to talk to my superior. Pull over to the side and step out. Great! That's all we need! I got down, collected the car papers and he marched me to a small chowki nearby where an officer in plain clothes was lazing in his chair, feet up on the table. Some exchange in Bengali which I obviously didn't understand and the officer looked at me in disgust. I suspect he was miffed, because I had disturbed his siesta. And then the warden spoke the magic word which all of us immediately understood. Maharashtra! The officer's eyes gleamed like a cat in front of a saucer of milk. He dismissed the warden and explained to me in a haughty tone, the seriousness of my crime. In fact the offence was so serious, that I would need to deposit my license and documents with the cops for 15 days and collect them later from the court. Sigh! I explained to him, what had actually happened, how we were confused by the navigation unit and how we had tried to take the right turn. In a nutshell I was a law abiding driver and all of this was an honest mistake, which I owned up to. Fair enough. Ok, I will do you a favour. I will tone down the severity of your crime. You pay the fine and you can leave with your papers from here. Thank you. How much would be the fine? 100.00 Fine paid Now pay 50.00 more. Thats the fee to send someone and "deposit the fine online" on your behalf. Seriously? What the hell. Charges paid. Now sign here, saying you received your papers back. Signed. Here you go. Here are your papers. You can leave. Thank you. Since I signed everything, can I please get a receipt? Sure you can. Come back in the evening. After the fine is deposited "online" I can issue you a receipt. Thank you. Shake hands. Send someone to deposit the fine "online"? How was it done? Did they click a pic of the currency (read) notes and upload it? I wouldn't be surprised if they thought, that's how it was actually done. (between) After all, the plain clothes cop, had a rubber stamp imprint of a political party on the inside of his (these lines) shirt pocket. Total time wasted in the whole episode: 45 minutes. And we were still inside Kolkata. We continued to follow the navigator instructions, while discussing what had happened, and finally we hit the highway to Siliguri.  The road to Siliguri takes you via NH-19 till Bardhaman. Often referred to as the Delhi - Kolkata Road, it is an enjoyable drive (once you get out of Kolkata proper) with well marked lanes, proper signage and trees on the roadside which offer much welcome shade, especially in summer. The landscape is dotted with fields and factories (many of them shut down, grass growing all over the place)  During our days in West Bengal, closed businesses and loungers sitting around, doing nothing, would become a common sight for us. Like these gentlemen somewhere near Malda.  We continued to make good time on the excellent highway, till we hit a traffic jam near Bardhaman.  God bless whoever first thought of writing these pearls of wisdom behind trucks. Besides offering words to live by, many a time, they are the only entertainment, while you crawl in bumper to bumper traffic! Like this one!  Eventually we turn right, and are immediately transformed from the clean wide highway, to well, this. Garbage. Just like loungers, garbage would become a common sight on almost all the roads we travelled in the state.  Garbage by the road side  Garbage on the rail tracks It's really a shame. Considering almost the whole country is striving for Swacch Bharat, West Bengal seems to follow it's own rules altogether. By now it's 130 and we have been driving for 4 hours now. Time for a pit stop. Lunch. We pulled over at Hotel Santiniketan This is a small place, but it is clean and hygienic. The food is delicious and the host is generous and very welcoming.  And while you wait for your food to be prepared, you get to enjoy the train! Choo! Choo!  Definitely one of the best lunches on the expedition! Lunch eaten, post meal cigarette smoked, we move on. The route continues to take us through many rural areas, and suddenly we come upon this. A building which says Webel IT park, literally in the middle of nowhere!  Note the empty parking spaces!  And just in case, if ever there is heavy traffic, due to all the employees working in this park, instructions in advance, on road safety! You have been warned!  You can view WEBEL IT Park in all it's glory, here Strange indeed, are the way things are done in West Bengal. Since we moved out post lunch, I had been having a nagging feeling at the back of my head. Weren't these roads too narrow? Looks too narrow for a proper highway. In fact we had once passed a village square. Both us, and the tractor coming in from the opposite direction were surprised. Where did these guys come from? But we were still on the blue line on the navigator screen. Brushing it aside, we moved on. At Rampurhat, we took a pit stop to top up our tanks. Guys do you think we are on the right track? Doesn't this route look too rural to you? Yeah, even I was wondering about the same. But I can hear the navigation instructions and I can see you turn accordingly. Yup, me too. But then I saw you were on the blue line, so thought nothing of it. On the blue line! Deja vu! Good God! It was Vijaywada all over again! Damn! Damn! Damn! Out come the phones and Google maps confirm our worst fears! The navigator has taken us on the wrong track! Again!  Cursing, quite a lot, we decide the best way to get back on track and eventually join the correct highway. Some quick calculations, and we realised, we have wasted around 3 hours! For the second time, the navigator has led us astray. Incredibly, we still don't think of ditching it. Blind faith on technology or sheer stupidity? You decide. Just look at our faces as we stop for a tea break, after getting back on track.  Smiling. Trusting that devil of an electronic device. This is how fools look like folks! But little did we know back then, that the worst was yet to come!!! By now it was around 7 PM and we had reached Farakka. A few kilometres to our East, lay the India-Bangladesh border A few kilometres to our West, lay the West Bengal-Jharkhand border Farakka lies nestled in between and we would traverse it in style, by crossing over river Ganga!  For us Hindus, Ganga is like The River This would be our first darshan of the holy river. We knew, rivers to the North of Maharashtra are real wide. We had seen pictures and videos of Ganga quite a few times. Seeing with our own eyes was an experience, we were definitely looking forward to. To cross the river, one uses the Farakka bridge. This being the only route across, the road was full of trucks, the air full of dust, and we were crawling along. By the time we reached the bridge and paid the toll, it had turned dark. So much for Ganga darshan. Now this bridge is an experience in itself. Consider this Swiss Cheese.  Notice all those holes in it? Thats exactly how the road on the bridge is. All of it's 2,240 meter length. Of course I couldn't see the road itself. The air was too full of smoke and dust. I could feel it! Every inch of it we travelled, the car was rocking to and fro, the keys rattling all the time. Crawling in 1st gear, I think it took us 30 minutes to travel it's 2 kilometre span. And for all this, we had to pay 40/- to cross over! If this is not Govt sponsored highway robbery, I don't know what is. Farakka crossed, coming up next, Malda. Yup, the Malda. Again, chaotic traffic, dust, garbage, stink all over the place. Adding to it all were these electric rickshaws which ferry people around. Here is a representative image of traffic in Malda.  Usually, I would have admired these tiny green vehicles, but by now we were on the road for almost 10 hours. I was fed up with the heat, lost time and the crawling traffic. Somewhere beyond Malda, the traffic eases off and we can afford to relax a bit. A quick halt for dinner and we resume onwards. West Bengal has a total road length of 92,223 KM and a total rail track length of 3,825KM. It is obvious that they would frequently cross each other. As we moved northward, this became more obvious. It was pitch dark, very sparse traffic, we were cruising along nicely and suddenly trucks! Lots and lots of trucks! All lined up neatly on the road. We pulled over behind the last one. Wonder what's the hold up. Perhaps a signal. We wait for a few minutes and still no sign of movement. By now it's very late and Ashutosh has fallen asleep. Thinking I might as well smoke while we wait, I stepped out of the car. And I heard the most strangest thing. Pin drop silence. Not one single truck was idling. All of them had switched off their engines! What is going on? Now this is your typical 1+1 lane rural highway. All the trucks are lined up in our lane. Driving ahead on the wrong side to see what's happening is not an option (sensible drivers don't do this. Morons do, and they end up causing traffic jams more horrific than they need to be.) I stroll down the road, trying to find a human being. All trucks drivers and cleaners seem to have vanished into thin air. It's dark, and I seem to be the only living being on the road, except the crickets I hear in the dark. For a moment I get an uneasy feeling, Am I in the twilight zone? And suddenly, behind me, I hear a voice Bhaisaab, machis hai kya? (Dude, got a light?) I kid you not, I almost jumped out of my skin and wet my pants!!! Turned out to be a truck driver. I offer him a cigarette and we exchange pleasantries. He couldn't believe, we had driven all the way from Pune and going to the north east. A look at our number plates and scepticism turned to admiration. It also turned out, that the queue was for a railway crossing. Apparently this was a frequent occurrence in this region, where trucks would queue up at the crossing for a long time, especially at night time. He recommended, I should go ahead from the wrong side right till the gate. There was place off the road shoulder, where I could pull over if anyone came from the other side, but this probably wouldn't happen, since the rail crossing was closed. We finished our smoke, shook hands and I thanked him for the tip. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed almost all the trucks were carrying Bihar registration. I asked him if all of them were travelling in convoy for safety reasons. Huh? In Bihar, you would see vehicles with Bihar registration no? And just like that, my stomach turned to water. Bihar! What the hell were we doing in Bihar? Weren't we travelling in West Bengal an hour back? Wasn't Siliguri in West Bengal? Is my geography all messed up or am I hallucinating due to exhaustion? I rushed to the car and triple checked the navigator screen. We were still on the blue line. I whipped out the phone and my worst fears were confirmed! The navigator had led us on a wrong track once again! By now, we had been travelling fifteen hours. Fifteen hours of heat, sun, dust, garbage, traffic jams, wrong routes, bad roads. Fifteen hours through hell. And for a few minutes, I lost it. There is a limit to which a human being can rake it in and I had reached the limit of my patience. For the next few minutes, there was loud cursing raving and ranting, which woke up Ashutosh. Once he understood what had happened, he too joined in. But, to be fair, in all this fiasco, I blame ourselves. To start with, we continued to rely on the navigator, inspite of getting misled twice Secondly, we did not pay attention to the phone. Sometime back, we had received documented proof, that we were off track.  Eventually we manage to cross the rail tracks, after following the trucker's advise. It's pitch black outside. It seems ours is the only vehicle on the road. Siliguri, is finally, only 50 KM away. By now it's almost seventeen hours that we left Kolkata. We are utterly tired, drained out and exhausted. But apparently, we haven't suffered enough. It started to rain. Not just a drizzle, but a torrent. It was pouring sheets of water that visibility was cut down to a few feet. After the last debacle, we had (finally) ditched the navigator and were relying solely on google maps. By now it was around 2:30 AM. Absolutely no traffic. We crawled at very slow speeds, till we finally spot our hotel on the right. We were tired. We were exhausted. We had survived the road through hell. But we had finally reached our destination. We had arrived in Siliguri. -------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll  Hotel Hotel Golden Gate (via OYO rooms)  Coming up next: Day five; Siliguri to Guwahati Last edited by RedTerrano : 26th January 2020 at 22:44. |
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23rd October 2018, 19:16
| #6 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
Posts: 973
Thanked: 7,654 Times
| Day 5. Into the land of Lachit Borphukan. Siliguri to Guwahati Out of the furnace - tête-à-tête in the land of tea - redefining "down to earth" - the mighty Brahmaputra - dinner with a genius  The human body is an absolute engineering marvel. Consider the eye. Light reflected off things, is focused through the lens, also known as the aquula, on the retina, where it "buffers" for 1/16th of a second. All these photons are further transmitted to the brain, via the optic nerve, where they are "processed" into an image. As more and more images keep coming in, the brain magically "stitches" them together, and we perceive motion! Anything faster than 1/16th second is invisible to us. This is called persistence of vision. Unfortunately, sometimes the brain can replay the images over and over again, and we have absolutely no control over it. This is called exhaustion! By the time we had arrived late night at Siliguri, we were extremely exhausted. Driving in darkness, for hours, I had been seeing headlights, bright headlights, tail lights, cats eye reflectors and indicators. Stress had taken it's toll. After we had turned in for the night, the images kept on playing in my head, even while I was asleep. Physical as well as mental exhaustion, combined with lack of deep sleep meant I woke up feeling not so great in the morning. Some coffee, a shave, a nice hot shower and it was time for breakfast. Now here is a little pro tip: While making a journey like we did, full of back to back travel, whenever possible, try and stay at the other end of town, the one closest to your exit point. We followed this religiously, and have effectively saved many hours not being stuck in morning rush hour inside the city. We had chalked out our halts even before we had left Pune, but had not done any bookings at all. Our logic was, if we got delayed anywhere, all our bookings after that point would be wasted. Later on in the expedition, while travelling to Imphal, we would come to pat our backs and congratulate each other, for this foresight. Every day, around 5PM, we would take an estimate on our journey since morning. Distance travelled, current position, where did we think, we would realistically reach, for a night halt. Once done, we would book our hotel online. Ashutosh has literally done all our bookings, every day, in this fashion. For accommodations, whenever possible, we had decided to go with OYO Rooms. Since we required a hotel room only to sleep at night, our needs were simple.
OYO offers all these. OYO also offers a complimentary breakfast. Totally worth it. We heartily recommend OYO. Breakfast was served in the restaurant which was on the ground floor. We went down. Human nature is a strange thing indeed. We find it funny when someone else is in trouble. Remember how you laughed at all the Tom and Jerry cartoons? That is for kids. Here is an adult version. The reason for this oddly posed selfie is the young couple in the background. We did not understand the language, but all of us were married long enough, to understand the tone. The lady was apparently "explaining" to her hubby, the latest snafu, for which, obviously he was responsible!  Seeing some other husband get into trouble, we started to appreciate our current freedom even more, and immediately perked up. Yesterday's exhaustion was a thing of the past! For the last four days, since leaving Pune, we had been travelling in a furnace. It was peak summer, and the sun had been raining fire down on us. Dehydration was something we definitely couldn't afford. To counter it, we were drinking water copiously. Unfortunately that also meant more stops for bio breaks. Stepping out into the heat, from the cool confines of the car. Not comfortable, but had to be done. Fortunately, all this would end today. Today we would start climbing the hills, and drive out of West Bengal. Today we would officially enter the very first North Eastern state. Today we would enter Assam.  Google estimated Guwahati lay 11 hours away. Breakfast done, we started off. It had rained heavily last night and it was still cool. The road smooth and lined with trees. The weather was so perfect, that we switched off the A/c, rolled down the windows and basked in the fresh air. Soon, a winding road up the hills, a sharp U turn and a sight that took our breath away. We had crossed the Teesta river. I pulled over. Sparse traffic. We stepped out. All we could hear were the birds and the water gurgling over rocks at a distance.    The place we had stopped was really beautiful. Even divine. And it affected us in different ways.   I was filled with exuberance and optimism.  While Ashutosh contemplated why the hell he couldn't stay here forever! Wistfully, thinking of EMIs and real life, we moved on. Further up the road, we spotted our first among many more. Tea plantations!  We were fast nearing the West Bengal - Assam border We continued to drive under blue skies.  The road was lined with beautiful trees in full bloom. It was as if mother nature had decided to roll out a spectacular display to welcome us to the north east  Further down the road, we spotted a board. South Khairbari Nature Park.  No time to go inside, but the coconut seller was a perfect excuse to make a pit stop.  Meet Alemul (This is what we heard. It is quite possible we got it wrong, as it was a bit difficult for us to fully comprehend his Bengali accent)  Alemul sells delicious coconuts by the road side. Every day he travels to this spot, a huge bunch of coconuts tied to his bicycle, from his village 3 KM away. He has been selling coconuts for the last two years and is quite happy. He makes enough money to support his wife and a kiddo. Originally, he is a construction worker by trade. Not the cement concrete kind, but bamboo. He ditched his traditional skillset and became an entrepreneur as the demand for bamboo built houses is going down drastically every year.  The nation celebrated his contribution, and awarded him Padma Shri(1972) and Padma Vibhushan(2006) But sadly, we never listened to what he said. Like the song says, [we]would not listen, we're not listening still Perhaps we never will We continue to blindly ape the west and construct cement concrete monstrosities, ignoring local material like bamboo, clay and stones. And when it gets hot inside (ever remember feeling hot inside a stone temple or a house with clay tiled roof?) we install air conditioners which cool the insides by throwing the hot air outside. A vicious cycle indeed. And people like Alemul pay the price for it. We discussed a few possibilities with him. Bamboo work in urban environment, Mudra loans and hand made bamboo art. While this discussion was going on, he was interrupted by new customers. Two lovely ladies had asked their rickshaw driver to pull over. The ladies politely declined the interview. One said she was too shy to talk on camera. The other one just couldn't stop giggling!  So we ended up talking to Maheshwar Singh. Remember all those "Never give up" type posters, all over the internet and offices? Mr. Singh lives that life. His father passed away when he was three, leaving behind his widowed mother and three other siblings. Education was a luxury he couldn't afford and from a very young age he started working as a labourer. Never happy working for others, he saved up enough money to buy a cycle rickshaw. Finally, as he put it, he was a businessman. His own master. Fast forward the years. Realising advancing age would mean he could no longer drive the cycle rickshaw, he purchased an electric version, when they became available. Today he starts off his day by ferrying his two kids (a boy and a girl) to school. He wants them to become graduates. I have told them, I want you to get a good education. Then start off your own business. I never liked working for someone else. I don't want you to do it either. Such words of wisdom and encouragement from a simple, uneducated man. Parenting done absolutely right! Wishing him and his family the very best for of success, we moved on. While these interviews were on, here are some exclusive behind the scene pictures!  I will hold the camera like this. The light will be on our face. This is a good angle.  If Maheshwar Singh's electric rickshaw travels at 30KMPH and if the car coming from the opposite side travels at 110KMPH, where on the road would they cross each other?  Vodka tastes awesome with coconut water. I wonder if I should share this idea with Alemul By now we have crossed the Teesta, Jaldhaka, and the Torsha rivers. Sometime post lunch, after Barobisha, we cross the Sankosh river. We have exited West Bengal! We have entered Assam! At last, we have entered the land of Lachit Borphukan!  Lachit Borphukan is to Assam, what Shivaji Maharaj is to Maharashtra. He is most famous for defeating the Mughal armada at Sariaghat. Even though he was ill, he ordered himself to be placed on a warship, and led from the front. After he was defeated, the Mughal commander Ram Singh*, was so impressed, that he praised Lachit Borphukan. Glory to the king! Glory to the counselors! Glory to the commanders! Glory to the country! One single individual leads all the forces! Even I, Ram Singh, being personally on the spot, have not been able to find any loophole and an opportunity! *yup! The same one who was charged by Jai Singh to liaison between Shivaji Maharaj and Aurangzeb, during the famous Agra visitNote: Aneesh Gokhale has penned an excellent book on the life work of Lachit Borphukan. Find more about it here. Having crossed the official state border, we pulled over for a smoke break.  The road since Siliguri had been excellent, the weather was fine and we were in high spirits. In fact someone got so carried away, that we almost got into trouble.  Ashutosh claims to be a down to earth person. And he has a strange penchant for demonstrating it. Moments after this photo was taken, a police gypsy crossed us. The cops at the back were staring at us intently. That's the moment we learnt, police in the North East carry automatic weapons. Squatting on the national highway. MH number plates in Assam. Vehicle full of armed cops. Recipe for trouble. Fortunately the cops just sped away, probably thinking What a bunch of idiots!  By now it was 7 PM. We cross the mighty Brahmaputra and enter Guwahati. Unlike other days, today we would stay not at some hotel, but the guest rooms at IIT-Guwahati! All this was possible only because of the generosity of Dr Harsh Chaturvedi Dr, Harsh is faculty at IIT. He is also actively involved in coming up with indigenous solutions to solve problems, especially in the North Eastern states. He also holds a patent for developing an ink, which are used to print currency notes. (Yes! Even in 2018, the ink used to print our currency notes has to be imported. And to top it all, he is an excellent cook! Meeting him was indeed going to be a culinary as well as an intellectual treat. We were in touch with him and eventually we rolled into IIT- Guwahati campus. Few hours spent in interesting chats over a delicious dinner and we were ready to hit the sack. ------------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested. Toll:  Coming up next: Day six; Guwahati to Silchar Last edited by RedTerrano : 23rd October 2018 at 20:05. |
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25th October 2018, 13:27
| #7 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 6. The abode of the clouds. Guwahati to Silchar (Part I) Denied meeting Bappa - driving into the abode of the clouds - high on a paan - taking darshan of Sam Bahadur and his gang of braves - Maharashtra challenges Meghalaya - nocturnal scam at the hotel  Blue skies at Shillong || ॐ श्री गणेशाय नमः || Since thousands of years, all new ventures in this land of ours, have started off, by invoking the blessings of the Lord. No surprises there. After all, He is is the remover of obstacles. He is विघ्नहर्ता He is गणपती We were no different. The idea to visit the North East of India, had taken birth, after seeing the pictures of the massive Ganpati idol, carved in stone, at Unakoti.  Bappa at Unakoti Today we would drive from Guwahati to Agartala, via Unakoti  Guwahati - Unakoti - Agartala Well, that was what we thought we would be doing. Before leaving Pune, we had worked out our rough itinerary. Distances, time, places to halt, things to do, all had been worked out as a rough guesstimate and intentionally kept fluid, to deflate any possible unforeseen scenarios. We had not even booked our hotels in advance, as delay in one place would make all bookings after that point void and useless. During our dinner with Dr. Harsh Chaturvedi last night, he had broken some shocking news to us, which had literally washed away our plans to meet Bappa. It had rained in Tripura. Quite heavily. And many of the roads were flooded, including the one we would need to take to reach Agartala!  Homo proponit, sed Deus disponit. (Man Proposes, God Disposes) ~Thomas à Kempis (circa 1418) Dinner done, we had shuffled back to our quarters (IIT Guwahati guest rooms, generous courtesy Dr. Harsh Chaturvedi), and sat down to address the elephant in the room: What the hell do we do now? A: I think we should continue as planned. Rain? I mean it's summer after all. Probably some sporadic incident B: Dude! Guwahati is Dr. Harsh's karmabhoomi. His work takes him all over the north east. He advised against going to Agartala. A: I am not doubting Dr. Harsh's word. But he said he was advising based on reports wasn't he? When was the last time any meteorology report has ever been correct in India? All they tell you is there are chances of rain. That too during monsoon season! B: He meant reports on the ground. A: How do you know? He didn't say that explicitly did he? C: I think we should just cut down on the states. Too risky. I also have to be back in Pune by a certain date. A: Are you kidding me? Come all this way and cut down on the states? And we had discussed this before. We do have plan B to take care of your time commitments. Sorry. Not happening. Let's vote on this like we have always done. A: I vote on NOT cutting states B: Ditto C: My vote is useless. Why are you even asking me?  The "Crime Scene" Tempers frayed, voices raised, doors banged and the night wore on. This was the first time we had argued with each other, since the day we started talking about the expedition. Morning we woke up to a very warm day. Ashutosh later explained, this was due to geography. IIT Guwahati, is nestled in a small valley, surrounded by hills, which traps the heat. Probably that's why, they put this beautiful lake, right at the centre of the campus.  Lake at IIT Guwahati campus A shave, shower and we went down for breakfast. Yesterday's shenanigans had left a bad taste in our mouths and we looked at each other kind of sheepishly. There was an awkward silence at the table. Plates cleared, we settled with our coffee. We had to take a decision. A civil discussion, evaluating different pros and cons and this is what we came up with. Tripura was out of question. We checked news reports on our phones. Some tweets were discovered and shared with each other. There was flooding indeed. Since we were at IIT, surrounded by people of science, we even tried a "scientific" approach: What if we filled our tyres with helium? Helium is lighter than air. Our car will become a boat! Remember that bond movie? Fortunately for us, we were beyond earshot of any professors or students! A totally hilarious and useless idea. But it did help dissolve the tension! We would be going to Silchar instead. Via Shillong. Which is the capital of Meghalaya.  Guwahati - Shillong - Silchar Meghalaya! The abode of the clouds! Remember your school geography question? Which is the wettest place on planet earth? (10 marks) Cherapunjee, Meghalaya, India Well today, you would get zero marks if you answered Cherapunjee. The correct answer is Mawsynram which is quite close to Cherapunjee. So to avoid the rain and floods in Tripura, we were willingly entering Meghalaya, the state with the highest rainfall in the world. Strange but true. Guwahati is connected to Shillong, via two excellent highways. NH 27 which weaves in and out between the Assam Meghalaya political border, till Jorabat police outpost, after you take a right turn and join NH 6, all the way to Shillong. We left IIT campus and it continued to be hot. Our heightened water intake, meant more frequent bio breaks. Assam, like all other North Eastern states, is lush with vegetation. Lots and lots of trees. Unfortunately none where we wanted them! NH 27 is beautiful, but blistering hot!  Pit stop on NH 27  We continued on, under the blazing sun, thinking it was going to be yet another summer day. Eventually we joined NH 6. We were gaining altitude now. The hills more prominent. The surroundings more greener. The bright scorching sunlight had reduced in intensity. And it began to rain! Blessed cooling rain! We had arrived! Meghalaya had lived up to it's name. We had entered the abode of the clouds!  Enroute Shillong  Hills on the way to Shillong  Clouds and rains. Perfect summer driving weather in Meghalaya By now it was late afternoon and our stomachs were growling with hunger. Proper Shillong was still two hours away, where we had planned to stop for lunch. We spotted a small shack by the roadside and decided to pull over for a smoke and tea break. We got out of the car and I was saddened by the view which met my eye. We petrol heads, are a strange lot. Usually we will ensure the car is in proper order and clean and tidy. But on road trips like this, we prefer the car to be as dirty as possible. A badge of honour if you will. Since leaving Pune 5 days back, I had intentionally not washed the car. (Windshields, mirrors, number plates, headlights and indicators not included) Till Guwahati, the car had managed to cloak itself in a fine layer of dust. There had even been dried mud stains thanks to the rains at Siliguri, and I had been pretty pleased with myself. This rain, though a welcome respite from the heat, had undone all these "achievements"!  Disaster! The rain washed car! The rains had cleaned the car! It was a complete washout! Anyone who has travelled on Indian roads, has encountered road side eateries and dhabas. Usually it is a small place serving basic necessities like food and water. The shack we had stopped at was to prove different on so many levels. To start with, it had no visual indicator like any sign board or anything to indicate it served refreshments.  We had pulled over, because we thought it might be an eatery. On the outside, it was just a structure made up of wooden planks, nailed together. We jumped over the slab to enter the place and were met with multiple pairs of oriental eyes. Four gentlemen with serious expressions on their faces, sat at a table. All of them were hunched over and it was obvious that we had disturbed them in whatever they had been doing. Simple colourful plastic sheets covered the table tops and everyone sat on benches.  What was this place? Have we done something wrong? A faux pas perhaps? Were we supposed to remove our footwear outside? But these gentlemen are wearing theirs! Oh look! They are busy playing Ludo on their cell phones! (Apparently, the game from our childhood, Ludo, is a huge hit in the North East. People take the game as seriously as chess. We would see many such players during our time there.) We were breathing a sigh of relief, when a lady stepped forward and gave us the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. It turned out, this was indeed a place where we could get tea, and she was the owner. We requested tea, but got this.  Red tea Errr didi, can we get some milk please? Milk? Didn't you request tea? Yes. Milk for tea? Ohhh! But this is red tea. We don't put milk in it. Great! Trying out local cuisine had been on our charts. Tentatively we sipped it. I am not much of a tea drinker and I was expecting it to taste like our "normal" tea, without the milk. You know, a bit on the bitter side. This was something totally different. It wasn't bitter at all. It was sweet. With a hint of spices. And a suspicion of honey! It was awesome! Yummy! Can we have one more please? What woman doesn't like her culinary skills being appreciated? You like? Very much! It is delicious! And we were served the second cup with another of her beautiful smiles! While sipping tea, we soon got into a conversation with the lady. Language was not a problem. The official language of Meghalaya is English. Though she had never been outside Meghalaya, she had heard of Mumbai, Maharashtra. That's the place where all the film stars live! The moment we told her, we were from Pune, which is very near Mumbai, she beamed, as if we had starred in some movies ourselves! The usual chit chat followed. When did you leave Pune? How many days on the road have you been? Where are you going? Why have you come all this way? The moment she learnt we hadn't had our lunch yet (it was past two by now), her maternal instincts kicked in and she frowned a bit. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat? Yes please.  Authentic steamy hot momos Steaming hot authentic momos! Believe me, the ones we eat in the cities are mere imitations. This was the real deal! Those were delicious. One more helping please! Unfortunately we had devoured the last momos she had. Instead she offered us this.  Meghalayan Bhat Believe it or not, this is called Bhat in Meghalaya too! I mean how crazy is this! Rice, which in Marathi is called Bhat in Maharashtra, is also called Bhat in Meghalaya, thousands of kilometres away! Cooked rice, garnished with fodni, coriander, onion with a fiery chutney on the side. Absolutely delicious. But tastes like kande-pohe!!!!!!!! Tea tasting like honey. Now bhat tasting like kande-pohe! This was absolutely a magical land! To wrap it all up, we requested a last round of red tea. You smoke too much! The lady admonished me. Errr yes didi! Smoking is bad. That's why you are coughing! Yes didi. Don't smoke. Try this instead!  Paan! Westerners wrap up their meals with dessert. We Indians, wrap up our meals with paan. Some enjoy eating it. Some enjoy spitting it! Overall, paan has entered the hearts of almost all Indians, since centuries. My aaji used to make delicious paan for the whole family. Full of goodies like gulkand and what not (certainly not tobacco), it was the perfect digestive. She called it vida. This paan brought back so many childhood memories! But this was a bit different. A single tender betel leaf, a dash of slaked lime (chuna) and a quarter of an areca nut (soaked to make it soft. So soft you can chew it). Simple fare eh? Well not really! As it turned out the three ingredients, working together, were mildly intoxicating! And guess who got "high"!  Ashutosh on the "high" chair Soon we had all the Ludo players shooting shy glances at us, and giggling amongst themselves. The person living near the film stars hadn't been able to handle a simple paan!  I didn't care. I was too busy admiring my paan stained red tongue! Ashutosh was helped into the car (almost) and we resumed our journey towards Shillong. We were gaining altitude. The road was more hilly now. The roads narrower. The traffic denser. We continued to enjoy such beautiful vistas on our way Finally, a few hours later, we entered Shillong Cantonment! We had arrived!  Entering Shillong Cantonment Please ignore timestamp. Somehow the dash cam got reset We halted at a signal. And right in front of us we saw this!  Sam Bahadur Popularly known as Sam "Bahadur" During an illustrious career spanning 74 years (yup! The Field Marshal meant he served till his last breath), from 1934-2008, he commanded
We had unwittingly stumbled upon the Rhino Heritage Museum. I do not have words to describe the pride and the awe we felt here. I will let the pictures convey my feelings.       Sorry. No pics from inside the museum. Photography not allowed. Outside the museum, is a real tank. Boys will be boys. We just couldn't resist a selfie with it!  Attachment limit reached. Contd. in next post Last edited by RedTerrano : 25th October 2018 at 13:38. |
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25th October 2018, 13:53
| #8 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 6. The abode of the clouds. Guwahati to Silchar (Part II) Initially, we had planned to have lunch at Hotel Poinisuk Ashutosh had dined there before and he spoke highly of the authentic Meghalayan fare they serve at their terrace restaurant. Awesome food, with a spectacular view!  Shillong - Narrow winding roads Please ignore timestamp. Somehow the dash cam got reset Unfortunately, adequate parking was not to be found. Shillong has narrow winding roads and parking there is obviously out of the question. We took a quick call. Do we park somewhere else and walk? Or do we proceed? Eventually we decided to save it for a later date. We had snacked on the momos and bhat and we could hold on for more time. We replotted the route and started following the snaky roads to get out of the city, headed towards the highway. On the outskirts, we were compelled to pull over. Spectacular blue skies!  The weather was a refreshing 19 degrees and the air was fresh and crisp. When we got out of the car, we could smell the fragrance. Like freshly cut grass! For us city dwellers, this was heaven indeed! We spent around quarter of an hour at that spot. We would leave Shillong now. At night we would drive out of Meghalaya itself, never to return, on this expedition. We had been in Meghalaya for just a few hours. Within that time, we had been blessed with much needed cooling rains. We had met some fantastic people, who really really made us feel welcome and at home. This is really a huge boost, especially when you are far away from home! Nature had literally organised a grand show for us. The heat, the rains, the blue skies and the beautiful cool weather, during this short period of time. But more than all this, what had touched us most, were the people. The ones we had interacted with or the ones we had just seen on the roads. Everyone had a benign expression on their face, which we seldom see in today's world. They were content! As we sat there by the road side, smoking, soaking in the atmosphere, watching sparse traffic go by, we could not help but wonder, what the hell are we doing in the rat race? We were rats running after the cheese. The book says, someone moved our cheese. But is cheese really found only in the maze? And more importantly, is cheese the only thing which makes us happy? With a heavy heart, we bid adieu to Shillong. Thank you! Thank you for filling our hearts with happiness. So much happiness that it's painful to leave. But leave we must. Silchar awaits us. But we promise, we will be back! As we sped towards Silchar, there was uncharacteristic silence in the car. We had loaded tons of songs on the pen drive, but we seldom listened to music. We had too much to share and discuss with each other. The things we had seen, the people we had met. None of that was happening right now.  Even the road felt especially empty. We were lost in our own thoughts when suddenly, we spotted this.  And a gang of future Baichung Bhutias in the making! Ashutosh, for some strange reason, thought it would be a good idea to challenge them to a match!  Apni maa ka doodh piya hai, to ek match khelo! The gauntlet was thrown and the home team accepted the challenge. Maharashtra v/s Meghalaya. This would be the mother of all matches. No quarter would be given. It would be a fight to death. It was a match where everyone played dirty. Using the mother tongue, so as not to give away the battle tactics to the other side, tripping or shoving, everything was fair game. As a Punekar I am proud to say, Ashutosh managed to save a goal. He had kept the Pune colours flying high.  By now it had turned dark. We had finished lunch+dinner at a small restaurant, and continued towards Silchar. The road condition was pretty good. It was a bit eerie driving at night on almost empty roads, which took us through mountains and reserved forests. At one point, near Umkiang, we were very very close to the Indo - Bangladesh border. Meghalaya, like Assam is a border state. Without divulging any other details (for security reasons), I will just say, we were in extremely safe hands. We never felt we were in any danger, on any day or night, in any of the North Eastern states. Security agencies are deployed in all the proper places. It is only thanks to these brave people, who put their lives on the line, that common citizens like us, can move about in safety. A huge heartfelt thank you to all of them. Jai Hind! Eventually somewhere after Sunachera, we crossed the state border and drove out of Meghalaya. Actually we were too tired to notice the sign boards and would have never figured this transition except for one thing. The road condition deteriorated. Drastically. One moment we were gliding on smooth roads, and the next it was potholes and rumbler strips. In the morning, we had started off from Guwahati, Assam. Now we had arrived back in Assam. We had travelled across the Meghalaya during the day. The good but winding roads meant we had not been able to maintain high speeds for extended periods of time. This problem was now further compounded by bad roads. Out of all the states we drove during our expedition, the roads in Assam were the worst for us. Slowly we moved closer to our final destination for the day. After almost 12 hours on the road, we arrived at Silchar. If we were disgusted by the approach roads to Silchar, the hotel scam added more to it. All these days, as mentioned earlier, we used to book our destination Hotel en-route, OYO Rooms being our preferred service provider. Silchar had zero hotels listed on OYO. This meant hunting all over the internet. While I struggled to keep the car out of as many potholes as possible, Ashutosh probably visited all the pages on the internet related to Silchar! Numerous phone calls later, we found one. Hotel Borail View. This is an ancient property with creaky buildings and the worst service ever. And they charge a bomb. We ended up paying 3,441/- for a room that night. (Coffee at 100/- a cup) This place is a ripoff. Never stay there. You have been warned! They knew, we had nowhere else to go at night. Grudgingly, we checked in. The elevator was out of order (of course!) We had to carry our bags upstairs ourselves (the hotel porter somehow mysteriously vanished, the moment we were handed our room keys). Too tired to care, we climbed the stairs, threw the bags in a corner, and crashed on the beds. -------------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll:  Hotel: Hotel Borail View (absolutely not recommended)  Coming up next: Day seven; Silchar to Imphal (1st attempt) |
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29th October 2018, 22:44
| #9 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 7. In the middle of nowhere. Silchar to Imphal (1st attempt) The road amongst the potholes - the happiest man in the world - amongst bovines, avians and canines - becoming unwitting outlaws - Shivaji's soldiers in Mizoram - you shall not pass - humiliation and defeat  All living beings on planet earth, are roughly divided into two categories Diurnal - of, or occurring during the day, and Nocturnal - occurring or active at night We humans, are of course, diurnal. (Over the years, a new nocturnal human subspecies is evolving. They call themselves party animals! Their proportionate numbers are so minuscule, that scientists haven't decided yet, if that's a mutation!) Since ancient times, when we humans lived in caves, our life revolved around the sun, literally and figuratively. Get up with the sunrise, go about doing our business during day time and to bed after sunset. Then we mastered fire. Night darkness was no longer an impediment. A new era of rebelling against nature had dawned. Millennia passed. Our Indian ancestors studied nature and identified plants of medicinal value. Ayurveda was born. The Vaidyas were quick to point out the benefits of adapting to nature. Get up at sunrise, sleep by sunset was still a good idea. And this has been heavily debated in numerous households, all across the country for centuries. This year, you have your board exams. You need to get up early. That's the best time to study. Early? Why? Because Ayurved says so. Early to bed, early to rise. That's the way to health, wealth and prosperity. If that's true, why are all newspaper boys and milkmen poor? Whack! Enough of your smart aleck questions. Ashutosh, as became obvious during the expedition, never wondered about the newspaper boys and milkmen, when he was a kid. Every morning, my alarm would go off and I would grudgingly open my eyes. Every morning, I would notice, Ashutosh already awake. He has this habit of waking up early and planning the day. Every day, by the time I awoke, he had taken care of his business emails, among other things, and had plotted the route for the day. His household, had obviously enjoyed peaceful mornings, when Ashutosh had been a kid. Perhaps this was the reason, he had needed to take power naps during few of our late night drives! It was just as well, I was at the wheel!! I yawned, opened my eyes and he hit me with some real bad news. Dude! Google says, the road to Imphal is blocked! Imphal, the capital of Manipur, lay around 250 Km to our east, and was around 8 hours away from Silchar, via NH 37. NH 37 starts at Sutarakandi, Assam and terminates at Bhali, Manipur. And Google was telling us, this route was blocked. Due to some land slide incident. Fortunately we had a few other options.
Yup. But we can do it post Imphal. If we do it now, we will just end up repeating it. Agree. I am not comfortable with this Aizwal route. Google's 22 hours means it will go beyond 24, counting smoke breaks and lunch/tea brakes. Also, I would want at least an hours break for the car and myself somewhere midway. I am not seeing too many petrol pumps on this route and the road seems to be through hills and forests. Just look at that all that green on the map. In satellite view, it looks more scarier. We get stuck for whatever reason and we are doomed! And after much deliberation, we settled on option #2. Silchar to Imphal, via Churachandpur.  Silchar - Imphal projected route Breakfast done, bills settled, we moved out. We were still bickering a bit, on what a ripoff the hotel had been.   Traffic ! Eventually we came out of cities and joined the highway. Green fields such as this flanked the road.  I was trying to soak in the beauty, when suddenly thuuump! A severe jolt! The whole car shuddered and the suspension screamed in protest. I had taken my eyes off the road long enough, and we had ran over some potholes. Momentarily, I had forgotten, we were on Assam roads.  There are potholes on roads in India. That is a given. Typically you will find them under trees. After a downpour, rain water keeps on dripping from the trees over the same spot on the road, making it a bit weaker than the surrounding surface. Vehicles keep travelling on it, eventually ripping a tiny piece of tarmac loose, and eventually a pothole is formed. The extreme temperature ranges in our country don't help either. Due to the heat, the road eventually acquires plastic elasticity and vehicles, especially the heavy ones, tend to deform it, breaking the structural integrity of the road. Eventually, a pothole. Then there is this unexplainable fascination for speed breakers in our country. Build a nice road. Then plant speed breakers and rumbler strips on them. And just for fun, "conveniently forget" to put signboards or warning stripes on them. Just before literally every such surprise speed breaker, there is a patch, where the driver has applied heavy brakes, because he didn't realise there was a speed breaker. This patch will eventually develop potholes. And in the end, the corrupt system. Build roads with inferior materials. Or in an unscientific way. Or both. Road damaged? No problem. Same contractor gets the job to "repair" them. Repeat. Infinite number of people have gotten their kids married off in pomp and splendour, thanks to this system. The words PWD contractor have become a synonym to corruption. Fortunately, over the years, technology has improved. Better governments have come in and have realised the importance of good roads. Lot of encouraging changes have taken place. Nowadays, many of the major roads are of cement. If I am not mistaken, that technology took root during Atal Bihari Vajpayee's dream project, The Golden Quadrilateral. And finally there is Prof Rajagopalan Vasudevan. Dubbed the "Plastic Man of India", this Professor of Chemistry at Thiagarajar College of Engineering, Madurai, has developed a technology to make roads out of plastic waste! The current Govt is sufficiently impressed and interested enough to pursue this further. We can realistically expect to see more of this in the near future.  But this was Assam. Apparently they did things a bit differently here. Observe the picture above carefully. Notice the clean square edges of the potholes. These are man made. And forgotten. Perhaps they started off to repair it, but soon changed their mind. We will never know. Almost all the Assam roads we travelled, are full of such rectangular surprise potholes. And this.  Many a times, roads are constructed over natural streams or man made culverts. Typically a tiny bridge is built over it. Road coming in from this side terminates at the bridge. Road going to that side commences from the bridge. Bridge built. Road terminated. Road commenced. Even the extremities of the road are painted. Oops! We "forgot" to ensure the bridge and road is on one level! The road pictured above is from a rural area. Notice there is no street lighting. Now imagine travelling on this road at night. Even your high beam will illuminate only till a certain distance. It takes a microsecond to notice the missing piece on the bridge. Fail to do so, and , thuuump! I did fail to notice. Many times in Assam. Inspite of this, the fact that we didn't suffer any suspension damage, speaks volumes of the awesome engineering which goes into building a Nissan vehicle. But wait! There is more. Remember a similar childhood conversation? Mom, can I go and play? No! You need to finish your homework first. But mom, I will do it after I come back from play! No! Even you know you won't do it. Homework first! Far away from home, inspite of being all grown up, we got the same blast from the past! Gau mata, can we please pass? No! Gau mata please! We need to reach Imphal! No! (Seriously these kids, won't even let me enjoy my cud!) Honk honk! Oh well! Have it your way! And as if all of this was not enough,  WHAT THE DUCK!! Hit one of the avians at sufficiently high speeds, and say goodbye to your radiator. Hit one of the bovines at sufficiently high speeds, and say goodbye to this world. Or worse. In fact, I remember, once we were travelling at night. A group of cows were sitting happily right in the middle of the road. Around a blind turn. We missed hitting them by inches. Assam is why they started putting up all those boards by the roadside! नज़र हटी, दुर्घटना घटी We were very close to the Assam Mizoram border now. That's when it happened! We found the answer to one of the most important questions, quizzing the country today! Q: Who is the happiest man in India? A: This gentleman!  I had almost pulled to a dead stop in front of him. We ogled at him for a few moments, our mouths agape! And then the penny dropped! I bet he is not married! Wistfully we moved on. The road had now deteriorated rapidly. Gone was the tarmac with it's bovine speed breakers. We now faced this. We crawled along in low gear. Eventually, we hit a tar road. NH 306A. Soon, a board. Saiphai 0 KM. A barricade loomed ahead. I pulled over.  We had crossed the state border. We had arrived in Mizoram. Saiphai is a quaint village in Mizoram. You switch off the engine, step out of the car, and all you hear is silence. Perhaps some birds chirping in some nearby trees. Close your eyes, and you might be mistaken into thinking, you are in the middle of the forest. Open your eyes and you might see something which will remind you, you had breakfast almost four hours ago.  Jackfruit! Growing on trees! Somehow I had always thought they grew much closer to the ground, with their weight and what not! The things you learn everyday! There was a small house by the barricade. A board outside proclaimed it doubled as an office too. Forest department check post. Stop all vehicles for inspection. No problems with that. In fact we welcomed it. We wanted to ask directions and enquire about the route ahead anyway. But first things first. I needed to top my my nicotine levels. A well deserved, luxurious smoke under the shade of the jackfruit tree and we were ready to present ourselves, as well as our vehicle for inspection. We stepped into the office.  Meet the forest officer on duty, Mr Singh. Mr Singh hails from Bihar, and has been serving in the forest department for almost a decade now. Yes, this was his residence as well as his office, and he wondered how he could be of assistance. When we told him we had driven all the way from Pune Maharashtra, and were headed to Imphal, he had an incredulous look on his face. Suddenly he got up and stepped out of the office, beckoning us to follow. He had to see, he explained, our vehicle. Ah! MH number plates! You really have driven from Maharashtra! Would you like to inspect the vehicle? Nope. Inspection is only for vehicles going outside, to ensure they are not carrying any undeclared produce. Soon we settled on the steps and got into an easy conversation with him. He was pretty curious to know, which route we had taken (he knew Pune), why are we travelling and where were he headed now. We indulged in chit chat and were glad he was the affable type. We enquired about the road conditions ahead, the existence of petrol pumps, any recommendations for places to have food, and he dropped the bombshell. You won't be able to go. Err what? Not able to go? Were we under arrest or something? Turned out, it was much more simpler than that. The road ahead was un-passable. What! This one too! Seriously? We excused ourselves and held a hasty roadside conference. What does he mean un-passable? We can see some trucks coming through, don't we? Yes. I doubt he has travelled 10 KM away from this place. Remember he said he commutes by bicycle? Imphal is far away. How can he know? Let's ask someone else ahead. Good idea! We informed Mr Singh, we would still like to push on. No problem! Please provide your required details and sign this register. Formalities completed, he waved us on with a cheery smile. We continued down the road, stopping a few times, enquiring with the locals. Nobody seemed to have any idea. Finally we decided to abandon the queries and push on till be hit the "closure". Not much we could do anyway, at that stage. We continued to pass small hamlets and villages. All of them were clean. No garbage to be seen. At Saipum, we saw this.  These citizens were taking Swacch Bharat very seriously indeed! That gas cylinder was a bit disconcerting though. It was noon, the summer sun was high in the sky and it was hot! I am not sure if leaving gas cylinders in such heat is a good idea. Hopefully it was perhaps empty. Not wanting to be around to find out, we moved on. As we moved on, the road conditions started to deteriorate. Soon we were on a road, which was a road only on paper. It was literally a road among lot of potholes. Lots and lots of them. And it started to drizzle. We were passing through steep mountains. The road was very bad and narrow. Hardly two carriages wide. Any heavy traffic coming in our direction, like say a truck, would have meant serious manoeuvring issues. We had the mountain one side and a deep valley on the other. Under these circumstances, rain would have meant more bad news. However, on that particular day, I welcomed it. For the last 45 minutes or so, I had been forced to crawl in 1st gear and I was absolutely concerned with the engine over heating. I know, modern cars are very efficient. But I learnt driving on my dad's Premier Padmini! Some things, you never forget. Like that one time, the radiator hose had developed a leak, overheating the engine so much, that clouds of hot steam had billowed up from underneath the hood. All the usual chit chat had died down inside the car. When would these mountains ever end? Ten minutes later, we were clear. On our left we could see a freshly paved road!  Good roads! Finally! The road was in fact so fresh, that some kilometres down the road, we passed the people who were building it! A turn and we literally stumbled upon them! But more than us, I think they were more surprised to see us! I suppose they did not expect anyone to "inaugurate" their brand new road so soon! We continued on, till a huge gate blocked our way. The lettering on the gate proudly proclaimed: NEEPCO Turial Hydro Electric Project (60 MW) Besides the gate, was a security cabin. I pulled over by the roadside and Ashutosh went over to request them to open the door. I was contemplating, if this was a good time as any for a cigarette, when I could see him come out. And he was accompanied by a security guard. With automatic weapons! What the...? Have we travelled into some restricted area or something by mistake? Ashutosh beckoned me to step outside. And then in Marathi, Meet Mr Jadhavrao. He is originally from Satara! We had driven thousands of kilometres into Mizoram, only to run into a fellow Marathi! How awesome was that! Mr Jadhavrao signalled someone to open the door and asked me to drive inside. There is a small designated parking lot on the right. We could pass through, but we needed to register ourselves first. I complied and got out of the car when a voice boomed, again in Marathi! MH-12? You from Pune? I whirled around in surprise. A pair of no nonsense eyes were scrutinising me. The nameplate on the chest said "Shinde" Good god! Another fellow Marathi! Introductions done, ID proof presented, scrutinised, noted. Our presence inside the gate, was now official. Naturally, we got chatting with our fellow Maharashtrians. Pleasantries were exchanged. Obvious questions were asked and answered. Note: As much as I would love to give details here, I will intentionally hold back for security reasons. Hope everyone understands. Eventually we were told, we had made a mistake and taken the wrong road. How so? Please see this. Google map shows the road connects to Imphal. Sure! But you won't be able to make it. Road ahead is of squishy mud, not paved. Only trucks and high clearance vehicles can make it. But we have an SUV! Four wheel drive? Nope. Then no. You won't make it! Ouch! It stung! It stung a lot! My SUV couldn't make it due to lack of 4WD! This was like telling Cinderella she couldn't enter the ball, because her shoes did not match her dress! I was totally deflated. So what options did we have at this stage? We were told we could take the route via Aizwal. This was the same route we had evaluated in the morning and discarded. Even if we take it now, how was the timing going to work out. All the gentlemen we met there, were of course on duty. They happily answered all our questions, even giving a few much appreciated tips, but they could not stand yapping with us any longer. We needed to discuss. We needed to evaluate our possibilities. We needed to brain storm. We decided to do all this somewhere else, so as not to cause more inconvenience to others. With a tentative "We might be back", we drove off. Some distance away, I pulled over. This was literally in the middle of nowhere. Perfect venue for our discussion!  Dude that's 22 hours from Silchar. God knows how much we have travelled inside. Can we even join it midway? I doubt it. And even if we do, remember, we discussed petrol pumps and food problems en-route. Hmm. True. What about NH 37? Nope. Google still shows it as blocked. Damn! Damn! Damn! Ok. Lets think in silence for a few minutes. Good idea! A disaster loomed right in front of us. A solution had to be found. I relied on nicotine. Ashutosh relied on something else.  In the end, we had a decision. We reasoned, we had come this far. Why not give it one more shot. Our last best effort. Everyone had said road is un-passable. We wanted to see it with our own eyes! We would make a last attempt. If we don't get through, we will turn back and decide on our next move then. A U turn and we were back at the gate. You guys really came back. You don't give up do you? No sir. We would like to go through. Ok then. Suit yourself. No need to sign in again. Oh yes, when you guys return, could you drop our electrician at the nearby village? Inspite of these broad hints, we would not listen. We were hell bent on seeing the mythical blockage with our own eyes. We were waved through the gates.  The proper road soon turned to unpaved road. The terrain became hilly. Relentlessly we pushed on. Soon enough, we came to this.  Notice it says NH 306A Yes! NH stands for National Highway. Now notice the road condition. Shifting to low gear I tried to drive through. The ruts were too deep. The car scraped it's bottom once. Let me try zigzagging. That way only two wheels will be in the ruts at any given time. Clonk! The car scraped it's bottom for the second time. This time, it sounded like a big stone! Enough! Stop. Reverse back. The road requires a closer inspection on foot. The road was just too narrow. The ruts, just too deep. There was simply no way we could get through without risking damage to the car. And this is here. Imphal is still very very far away. And it was almost 16:30.  The writing was on the proverbial wall. It was high time we accepted it. Crestfallen, we turned back. On our way we gazed forlornly at our Panipat. This is where we had lost.  We hadn't been able to cross it. This had turned out to be our Bridge Too Far. Dejectedly, we crawled back to the main gate. The gentleman was surprised to see us back...so soon. The squishy mud match he had referred to earlier, was further away. When I told him about the car scraping the bottom, he congratulated us on taking the correct call. He had indeed been correct, right from the start. 4WD with high ground clearance. While we waited for the electrician to wrap up for the day, we found someone, whom we suspected had information which could prove useful to us. We tried everything to obtain that information.  Good cop: Why make things difficult for yourself? Just tell us the alternate route to Imphal!  Bad cop: I need to know an alternate route to Imphal, and I need to know it now! Eventually the electrician arrived. We bid our goodbyes to the gentlemen. Mr Shinde, probably looking at our shenanigans, got concerned with our stupidity, and had given us his final piece of advise. Stop roaming around on unknown roads. Go back to Silchar. Plan an alternate route for tomorrow. We assured him, we would do exactly that. During our earlier exchange, we had shared our itinerary with him. He now insisted on exchanging numbers with us and told us to call him in any kind of emergency. In fact he stayed in regular touch with us, till the day we exited North East. And I doubt he did it only because all of us were Marathi. I am absolutely confident he would have done it for anyone else. Because thats how they are, our men in uniform. We dropped the electrician at his village, and literally retraced our route back to Silchar. On our way back, we did not forget to drop by Mr. Singh of the Indian Forest Service, and update him on our adventure. He said he was glad we were safe and had finally seen sense! We thanked him for his advise and expressed our regret, that we hadn't heeded it. That's OK. I was so confident you would not make it through, that I did not bother issuing you a permit. Huh? What permit? Mizoram is a border state. You need a permit to travel in this area! And just like that, our stomach turned to water. What if we had managed to get through? What if we had decided to take the Aizwal route instead of coming back this way? What if? For quite some time, on our way back to Silchar, we discussed these questions amongst ourselves. What if indeed! Retracing our route from the morning, we crossed the state border and drove into Assam. By the time we neared Silchar, it was almost dinner time. We had travelled the whole day with only breakfast and our stomachs were growling! I spotted a road side Dhaba and pulled over. We ordered our food, and while we waited, the owner came over to chat with us. He had been to Mumbai once and had recognised our MH number plates. But why did you travel this route to Imphal? You should have taken NH 37. Yes we know, but google still says it's blocked. Very strange. I went to the market to get supples and my regular vendor mentioned he got a fresh consignment from Imphal today evening! Encouraging news indeed! Post dinner, we stopped at a petrol pump to top up our tanks. Ashutosh got into a conversation with the pump attendant and he confirmed NH 37 had reopened sometime today afternoon! He pointed to the tanker parked on the premises and informed us, it had arrived half an hour back! Fortunately, the driver was around and he gave the final confirmation. NH 37 was now open. There had indeed been a landslide incident, and it had caused a closure for 15 days. And just like that, we had found the solution to our predicament.  And He had delivered on his promise!! So that was it. All we needed to do now, was find a place to sleep for the night in Silchar. It was Déjà vu all over again! No listings on OYO. Multiple phone calls. Exorbitant rates. Eventually we settled on the known devil. Hotel Borail View. Yup! The same one which had ripped us off the last time! Today's day had been a total wash out for us. For the first time on the expedition, we had been forced to turn back. We had travelled for approximately 11 hours total, but had managed to cover an eventual distance of around 6 feet! We were back to square one, back in Silchar, back in Hotel View. As compared to yesterday, our car was now parked 6 feet away from yesterday's parking spot! But we had also met some more awesome people. In our desperation to get to Imphal, we had overlooked or ignored literally every well intentioned advise given to us. Were we wrong? I don't think so. To be fair, we had no other choice at that stage and we were glad we had at least tried. If not, it would have stayed with us for the rest of our lives. We might have been crazy, but we were not blind crazy. We knew where to draw the line. In our case, the line was drawn by the car in the mud. And we also had foresight and vision. This. This is why we hadn't booked any of our hotels in advance. A delay like today, would have made all bookings beyond this point void and useless! Here is a map of our actual travel that day. Around 180 KM in 9.5 hours.  Coming up next: Day eight; Silchar to Imphal (2nd attempt) Last edited by Aditya : 29th January 2020 at 17:13. Reason: Rule #11 |
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10th November 2018, 18:54
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| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 8. I want to break free! Silchar to Imphal Abhimanyu in Chakravyuh - warning at Kaiphundai - Bridge on the River Makru - mountains, forests and BROs - almost got shot, then got food  The ancient Romans were great patrons of art. Numerous marble sculptures and majestic buildings stand testimony to their love for things of beauty. While great artists created magic out of marble and paint, perhaps not so great artists created similar magic out of small pieces of coloured glass, stone or other materials. They created mosaics. Sometime between AD200-250, an unknown artist created this magic at Sentinum, an ancient Roman town, which today, is about a kilometre away from the town of Sassoferrato, modern Italy.  Aion, Gaia and four children The mosaic depicts Gaia - mother nature. Also know as Tellus. Four children depicting the four seasons Aion - the deity associated with the universe and the zodiac. In other words, father time. This mosaic, is on display today, at Glyptothek museum in Munich, Germany. Observe the circular structure around Aion, with the zodiac signs on it. Notice the twist in the structure at the top? Today we call such a structure (closed loop with a twist), a Möbius strip. In 1858, this ancient design, was "discovered" by the German mathematician August Ferdinand Möbius and is named in his honour. It was also independently "discovered", around the same time, by another German mathematician, Johann Benedict Listing Now that twist, is what makes the Möbius strip really interesting.  Möbius strip That morning, as we prepared to leave for Imphal, I felt I was the ant. Yesterday I had done one round of the strip, and in the end, found myself back at the starting position. Would we make it all the way to the destination today? Or were we going to face, yet another twist in the tale? No point thinking and worrying. We would find out soon enough. With a गणपती बाप्पा मोरया, I hit the ignition. As mentioned earlier, the shortest route from Silchar to Imphal lies via the NH 37. Google maps still showed it as blocked. However we knew better. Yesterday, after the debacle, on our way back, we had had multiple confirmations, that NH 37 was indeed open. Without hesitation, I pointed the wheels towards the highway. Now would probably be a good time to talk about how Google map technology works. At least the relevant parts. For route navigation, Google maps provide you with two excellent data points The official Google maps help says: Traffic colours The colour code shows you the speed of traffic on the road.
Traffic incident symbols Traffic incidents include these types of delays:  To see details about what happened, click or tap the icon. Note: For road closures, you'll see a dotted red line where the road is closed. The speed colour code is automated. As you travel, the map app keeps sending data back to the google servers, where it is analysed and shared with all others commuting the same route. In a way we are helping each other arrive safely at our destinations! The traffic incident on the other hand, especially the road closures, is a manual activity. You see a blockage, you let others know via google. Someone, sometime back had reported the landslide on NH 37 as a road closure. Who? When? We will never know. Whoever it was, had certainly done a good deed. Thank you! We decided to return the favour. Once we passed the landslide location, we reported the incident as resolved!  Silchar to Imphal via NH 37 The road leading to Jiri, on the Assam side, was relatively flat, the landscape dotted with farms and fields. After crossing over, almost as if a switch was thrown, we encountered hills. Lots and lots of them. And dense vegetation and beautiful forests. Manipur is an absolute delight for nature lovers and wildlife lovers! Hilly roads, snaking through dense forests. This would be the predominant geography we would encounter, till around Bishnupur, where the land flattens out once again and the road takes you all the way to Imphal. Snaky roads meant, I had to drop speed. We were soaking in the beauty, when we unexpectedly spotted this.  Swachh Bharat Mission in rural Manipur Well then, these fine people from rural Manipur have taken Swachh Bharat mission seriously. I hope all us urban citizens are inspired enough from them. We drove on. Lots and lots of vegetation, nestling many small hamlets and villages. The decor seemed to be themed bamboo. Makes sense. Bamboo is to be found abundantly in the North East.  And then we saw the trucks. All neatly lined up by the roadside. Why are they lined up like this? Is it because the highway is closed ahead? Eventually we figured out it was nothing. They were probably just resting Note: This was probably the only bad patch we faced that day. Rest of the road was excellent! The sun was out in full fury. The weather was hot. On the outside. On the inside we had the A/c on and we were happy enjoying beautiful views like this.  Notice that small house, almost hidden by the trees? Wouldn't it be awesome, to put up a hammock there, underneath some trees, and curl up in it with a really nice book? One could, if inclined so, even develop some new philosophy like Chanakya or Socrates. Or just lie down, and watch the birds chirping, going out their daily bird business. Only if! Damn you EMI!!! Eventually we reached a small place called Kaiphundai. And just in time too! I pulled over.  Bio break at Kaiphundai Over the past episodes of the travelogue, I have hinted at law enforcement authorities, intentionally without mentioning anything in detail. We had decided this even before we set off from Pune. We are not security experts, but mere civilians. If we, even inadvertently, give away any information, which could eventually mean useful to the bad people, we wouldn't be able to bear that burden. After all we were travelling in border states. But like they say, there is always a silver lining. This one time, I have absolutely no compunction in sharing this picture. After all, this board has been put up by our men in uniform themselves!  Men (and women too) such as these, carry out their duty religiously, even putting their lives on the line, so that Indian citizens like us, can roam about all over the North East safely and return back home without a single scratch. During our expedition, we personally met many such men in uniform. The best part was saluting them and opening up the conversation with Jai Hind Sirji! Bio break taken care of, it was time to top up my system with some nicotine, and some liquid refreshments! A small shop across the road beckoned, and we obliged.  Sting! No coconut water here. But this was good enough. Delicious too!! And here at this shop, we met, probably the most mysterious person, during our whole journey. To this day, we haven't been able to make up our mind. Was he a good guy, or bad? Perhaps you can help us make up our minds. Let's call him Mr. X. For all you know he could be a good guy, in which case I wouldn't want to risk mentioning his real name. Mr. X had been loitering near the shop, and as we approached, he did something, which immediately put us on the alert. He asked me for a light. Now don't get me wrong. I am not anti social or anything (not much anyway!). In fact, being a smoker myself, I have a bit of a soft corner for fellow smokers. But this was different. We had known right from the onset, we would be travelling in states, which are border states. Going by the things one reads in the newspapers, you never know who is who. So we were subconsciously on the alert. Secondly, its the people themselves. We found people in the North East a bit stoic. Calm face. Their oriental features convey a neutral expression by default. They are friendly of course. No doubt about that. But they open up after you start interacting with them. Here we had Mr X initiating the conversation himself. This was an anomaly. Lighter shared, we entered the shop. After choosing our liquid refreshments, we settled on the wooden bench outside to enjoy them. We were busy enjoying the antics of a local puppy, when Mr. X joined us on the bench. Strike two. The usual pleasantries exchanged, he rushed in to introduce himself (at least we thought so). Communication was not a problem. The official languages of Manipur are Meitei(Manipuri) and English. So there was a local power project going on in the area. A private company, had won the contract to lay some power lines. The locals did not like the idea, as it meant building towers on hills which they considered holy / it meant giving up farm land for development. Yes. He actually gave us both these reasons in the same conversation. And to top it all, later on he mentioned most of the people were landless farmers and were angry. That's one problem with lying. You need to remember what you said last time. Landless farmers forced to give up farm land. Oops! Strike three! According to Mr X, he had been hired to interact with the locals, and get them to see the benefits of progress. Till date, he hadn't had much luck. By now we were extremely wary and on our guard. Why tell such details to someone who wasn't even local there. What possible reason could there be, for us to be interested in such details? Wasn't it obvious even to the puppy(who by now was trying to climb my leg to get a sip of some Sting!), that we would finish our smoke and move on. And then he asked a very very strange question. Is it just you guys or is anyone coming from behind? And where were we headed? This dude was really starting to irritate me. I curtly asked him in return, why was he so interested? If he was thinking of hitching a ride, he was lucked out. My friend was not feeling well (too much heat you know) and needed to lie supine on the seat. So sorry. He probably noticed the change in my tone. He smiled. Only with his mouth. The smile stopped short of reaching his eyes. No. I don't need a lift. I was just concerned. Concerned? How so? You know, there have been instances here, where Government officials have been kidnapped and held for ransom. Really? Well we are not Government officials. They travel in vehicles which have plates saying Government officials. I doubt anyone would want to kidnap us. Anyway, we stopped to smoke and have some liquid refreshments, and we are now done. It was nice meeting you. Bill settled, stubbed out cigarette butts neatly discarded in the dustbin (Swachh Bharat, just like everyone else in Manipur), and we moved out. What the hell? Who was that guy? Dunno. Going by what he said, he's that company's agent. Do you believe all he said? Nope. It was obvious he was lying about that landless farmer part for sure. Exactly. Wait. What if he is part of that kidnapping gang? We are not Govt officials dude. True. I don't know. I got this unsettling feeling about him. Something was not right. I know. Very very strange. And we continued discussing this, till we started passing trucks. All neatly queued up by the road side. Again! Stunned, we continued on, till we came up to this.  Broken bridge on the river Makru This looked like an old bridge. Made of iron girders, it was hardly a carriage wide. One of the girders had cracked. They were working on replacing it. Yes. It will take a few hours! Ah crap! This is yesterday all over again! I feel like Abhimanyu in a Chakravyuh! Will we ever get out and reach Imphal? I certainly don't want to go back to Silchar for the third time!  Sign at the iron bridge We were destined to spend the next four hours at the same spot. Under the blazing hot summer sun. During this time, we got free lessons in geography and bridge building! Here is what we learnt.  Three bridges on the river Makru The broken bridge, was actually the first of three. Bridges #1 and #2 were built over channels formed by water coming down the mountains on the left, which emptied themselves into the river below. We needed to cross all three, to get to the other side. Fortunately (for us) a newer and wider was in the pipeline. In fact, the engineers were using girders from that bridge to repair this one. Meanwhile, vehicles continued to line up on both sides of the river. Here's a panoramic view. They will have you believe, the 44th President of US, Barack Obama was born in Honolulu, Hawaii. I suspect this could be some conspiracy theory to mislead the people! You know, like that area 51 alien thing! We discovered the most well kept secret. And now you know it too!! Mr Barack Obama was born 45 KM from where we stood!  Four hours of enforced halt under the hot blazing sun, and even mile stones start appearing funny!! Talk about getting caught between a rock and a hard place! On our left, were the hills.     Notice all that bamboo. Looked like, these guys floated all of it down the river. What we were seeing, was probably their temporary workshop, as was evident from all the neatly stacked smaller pieces in the last picture. For a brief moment, we contemplated going down and take a closer look. Perhaps talk to those folks. One look at the blazing hot sun made us realise, going down meant coming back the same way. Up the hill! Nah! We would rather learn more about bridge repairs. So we stayed put. And this is how it was done First they pulled out the heavy steel plates, which formed the surface of the bridge. Then they pulled out the broken girder. Notice the break.  While all this was going on, lot of people found ring side seats to the repair works.  Amongst all this hectic activity, Coleridge's Ancient Mariner was perched on the girders, contemplating.  Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean The albatross is a sea bird. We were on land. The way our luck was running, I wouldn't have been surprised that we got a pigeon instead. A pigeon, who would either crap on either of us, or the car!! Around 16:30 hours, they started wrapping up things. The repairs were done. Finally! Before we cross the repaired bride, a few words about the men who worked on it. They were simply awesome! They toiled away under the blazing hot sun. Every time anyone asked for an update (new people kept on coming, parking, and walking over to the bridge to see what was the hold up and how long it would take to fix it), I repeat, every time, one of the workers replied very politely and gave a realistic feed back. The bridge girder broke sometime during the night. No, fortunately nobody was hurt. We arrived as soon as we got the news. Yes, its not major. But will take time as it involves moving the girders. And they are heavy. They repeated this to literally everyone who asked. That too politely. No boredom. No high handed tone. And to top it all, they understood people's predicament. People needed to go somewhere. People need to cross that bridge. So when half the section was completed, they opened it for people travelling on two wheelers. Like I said earlier, these guys were awesome! While the workers were wrapping up and conducting their final tests, people got up, dusted themselves and stretched. It had been a very long wait, and understandably people were feeling antsy. Suddenly, a bit of a commotion and respectable silence. We could spot a jeep and a couple of trucks on the other side of the bridge. The "Rhinos" of Assam Rifles had arrived on the scene! And all of them were carrying automatic rifles. Of course! Apparently they had heard of the bridge incident and had come personally to investigate. While they waited for the workers to wrap up, a few strolled on to our side of the bridge. Of course we chatted with them! And from them, we heard the best news of the day. Yes the highway is open now. The road is excellent too. Nothing to worry at all. You can travel without any hesitation. This news brought us much needed relief. Now we were 100% certain, we would reach Imphal today! Gentlemen, start your engines! It was time to cross over!! Bridge #1 Notice the audio. Thats the sound of vehicles passing over the steel plates and girders. Fresh girders are visible on the left, at the end of the bridge Bridge #2 and #3 And we were through! We had gone over to the other side. We had crossed the Makru! The road conditions were excellent, the sun had gone behind the hill, and we were able to make good speed. The excellent road took us through such beautiful mountains and forests  With such epic views  Sometimes, a narrow gorge  Look! A small waterfall! Manipur is indeed beautiful! All of this was mountainous country. It is no easy task to build and maintain roads here. We wondered who was responsible for them. Soon we got our answer.  You guys absolutely rock! At a place called Irang Khun, we were scheduled to cross the river. For the last time. This would be the last bridge we would take on our way to Imphal. The road here was a bit dusty. Work was going on to widen it, and the air was full of dust. I somehow missed the approach road and ended up in the wrong lane. A shrill whistle pierced the air! Manipur police! Great! That's all we need. Now he will notice the MH number plates and make a huge scene about driving in the wrong lane. I pulled over. He approached. Dejectedly, I rolled down the window. Where are you guys going? To Imphal Sir. Excellent! Can you give one of my men a lift to Noney? Sure! We would be glad to! Wait here please, I will send him over immediately! Wait what? That was it? That's why he stopped us? No drama like the one in Kolkata? Wow! These Manipur cops are awesome! In a few moments, Alex joined us. He was a young gentleman with a smiling face! He had just come off duty, he explained, but had managed to somehow miss the local transport. He lived in Noney. We had been told, we could expect to find some eatery in Noney. Since morning, we were running on breakfast and Sting! Sadly no, explained Alex. Everything would have shut down by the time we arrived in there. Folks in this region wake up and sleep with the sun. Ah well! Can't be helped. But as it turned out, it was not a total washout! We dropped off Alex, and we noticed across the street, a small shop, on the verge of shutting down. Perfect timing! We managed to purchase cigarettes! By now, it was swiftly turning dark. Fortunately, traffic was very sparse and we could maintain decent speeds, even though we were traversing mountain roads. But I was a bit frustrated. Mountain roads meant constant shifting of gears. We were discussing how the mountains would end and we would reach the plains once we approached Bishnupur, when suddenly I saw something which made my blood turn to ice in my veins, and I stood on my brakes! Coupled with a quick down shifting of gears, and we ground to a halt. I had managed to stop in the nick of time. On our left, a few feet away, stood a man in uniform, on the verge of unslinging the automatic weapon on his shoulder. Amongst the discussion about the mountains and plains, I had almost missed the sign, illuminated by a lamp, which said "Check post. Stop all vehicles for inspection!" I strongly suspect, we almost got shot!!! What the hell was I thinking? Whatever happened to नज़र हटी, दुर्घटना घटी? No time for that right now. First things first. Switch on the interior lights, give him your sweetest smile (hah!), and pray he believes you are a good guy! Fortunately he did. Switching on the interior lights was a smart move and he visibly relaxed. I rolled down the window. Where are you guys heading at this hour? Imphal. One word would have been sufficient. Instead, at that moment, I somehow felt it imperative to tell him the whole story. Right from Pune!!! By now, probably hearing the brakes, some more men in uniform, and their automatic weapons, had stepped out of the cabin and had joined us. The senior officer quickly gauged we were harmless people, who had been too stupid, not to notice the big sign. He interrupted my blabbering with a No problem! Please step out of the car and sign the register! When I think back about the incident today, I smile. Back then, I had almost wet my pants. I opened the boot of the car. That's ok. I offered my driving license for inspection. Name and details noted in the register. Please sign here. Would you like to see the car papers? All of them are upto date. I got RC/TC/Insurance. I even got a PUC certificate! Nope.Not required. Was that it? Does it mean we could go now? Sure! We were alive! We had survived my stupidity!! To calm my nerves, I lit a cigarette. MH number plates. So you guys are from Maharashtra? See? I was giving these exact details at the onset! I was not that scared! My brain was functioning properly! Heh! Mere mind games to white wash the embarrassment which had set in by now! Soon they learnt we were very hungry, and pointed out a small shop, which had been there all this time. Samosas and tea! We hogged on them! Finally! Some food! Tea drunk. Cigarette smoked, it was time to move on. We bid good night to the officers and drove off. I strongly suspect, they continued to laugh for quite some time after we were gone. Did you see his face? Ha ha! Yes. And he kept talking all the time! Ha ha ha! PUC certificate! He wanted to show us the PUC certificate! Ha ha ha ha! I, of course, was oblivious to all this. In fact, I was pretty pleased with myself, especially my driving skills, and was busy patting my back. I had managed to dodge the bullet. Literally! Driving in the mountains the whole day, meant we faced a unique problem. For the first time, since leaving Pune, we found ourselves outside cellular coverage. Ashutosh usually checked the options from his phone, and booked us into some hotel at the destination, during the last quarter of our journey. By now we had crossed Bishnupur, but cellular coverage continued to elude us. Phone network was sketchy, but very low quality of data network. Time to call in reinforcements. Time to call Shri Nihal Singh. We pulled over at a point where there was a decent phone range, and Ashutosh placed the call. He knew Nihal from earlier. And the best part? Nihal lived in Imphal! Ashutosh explained the whole situation and requested help! No problem! I will do the booking and drop you a message with the details. You are sure to get good coverage as you near Imphal. I will even tell the hotel folks to expect you late, so they are prepared. And he did exactly that! What an awesome guy! Unfortunately I did not get the chance to make his acquaintance in person. and thank him for all his help. Ashutosh did ask him if he could join us for breakfast tomorrow, we would be delighted to have him. Unfortunately he was scheduled to travel out of Imphal, the next day, due to some prior work appointment. Eventually late at night, we rolled to a halt, in front of our hotel in Imphal. A simple 8 hour journey, had been delayed by a minimum of four hours. We had suffered silently under the blazing hot sun, while the bridge was being repaired. We had gone hungry almost the whole day. We had almost got shot. But none of these things mattered now. Despite all odds, we had tried and tried for two days, and finally, we made it! We had successfully come out of the Chakravyuh!! We had finally arrived in Imphal!!! ---------------------------------------------- Bonus section You don't need to be a mathematician, or an ant to admire the wonders of the Möbius Strip. You can actually leverage it to impress a girl! Make a strip (no twist) Write her name on one side. The competition's name on the other. Cut it at the centre, all the way round. As expected, end up with two separate strips! Ouch! The gods have destined, your relation with that other guy won't last. My condolences. Make another strip (one twist) Write her name on one side. Your name on the other. Cut it at the centre, all the way round. End up with two interlinked strips. Look! This is us. There is no way, we will ever break up! Make another strip (two twists) Write her name on one side. Your name on the other. Cut at the centre, all the way round. End up with one huge continuous strip. See? I told you we are better than all other couples! Two bodies but one soul! Soulmates!! Too shy to try this out with the girl? No problem. Wait a few years. She will get married. Have a kid. Get invited to the kid's birthday party and demonstrate this trick. Kid will absolutely adore the magician मामा! ---------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll None Hotel Phou-Oi-Bee Hotel  Coming up next: Day nine; Imphal to Kohima Last edited by Aditya : 29th January 2020 at 17:20. |
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10th November 2018, 20:03
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| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 9. Thunk, whooomp, bang! Imphal to Kohima Shock and awe in the hotel room - the most obedient kids in the world - the least appreciated economic idea - capitalism 101  Kohima - night lights In 1597, Francis Bacon, published his first book. Titled Essayes: Religious Meditations. Places of Perswasion and Disswasion. Seene and Allowed, it is a collection and discussion of several topics, viewed mainly through a philosophical prism.  Essays, 1696 edition Surely, as there are mountebanks for the natural body, so are there mountebanks for the politic body; men that undertake great cures, and perhaps have been lucky, in two or three experiments, but want the grounds of science, and therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fellow many times do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the people believe that he would call an hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers, for the observers of his law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to come to him, again and again; and when the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, but said, If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill. So these men, when they have promised great matters, and failed most shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of boldness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no more ado. We woke up to a lazy day in Imphal. The sun was up, it looked hot outside and Kohima was only five hours away. We were in no hurry to leave our A/c rooms. Suddenly Ashutosh beckoned me frantically to the window. With a muffled curse (I am always grumpy before my first coffee and cigarette in the morning), I got out of bed and went over.  GST building, Imphal A GST office next door!!!!! Was all this a mere coincidence, or had Ashutosh successfully managed to call the building to come to him? Would he start tweeting about GST from the top of that building now? Was this some miracle which I was witnessing? I was absolutely awe struck! Shocked too!! And a little bit scared. I mean who gets excited by taxes? Forget taxes, who gets excited by maths? Only Ashutosh! Normal people, would have probably gotten that excited, if they had spotted a beautiful girl in one of those building windows. Comic books usually have heroes and villains who were normal people to start with, but changed later. Typically after getting exposed to, or bitten by something. Had something similar happened here? Perhaps someone had hit Ashutosh on his head with a slide rule or maybe a scientific calculator and I was witnessing a delayed reaction? And to my horror I realised, I was within the closed confines of a hotel room with him! A public place! I needed to remove myself to a public place. Stat! Suddenly, the hotel room started to feel claustrophobic. The restaurant! The hotel had an excellent restaurant! Morning ablutions done, and I sneaked downstairs for breakfast! 1985, was a year of tension, trepidation and despair at the Godbole household. I was in the tenth standard, and it meant I would take my SSC board exams that year. The only person really worried about it, was my mother. The Godboles have an illustrious lineage of doctors, scholars and engineers. We even have a Naval Captain amongst our ranks. My mother was always confident, I, would blemish this record. At the start of that year, she had proclaimed "I am done with your nonsense. You need to put in extra efforts this year. Wake up early, and study" I have always been mature for my age. Instinctively, I knew, it was folly to argue this. I caved in. Kind of. Every morning of that year, I would get up when the alarm went off at 0500 hours. I would put it off, and promptly go off to sleep again. And amazingly, my mother, who always had hearing problems whenever I asked her stuff like "Can I go out and play?" or "Can I have these biscuits now? I promise I will have proper lunch", heard the alarm bell. Through three walls and two wooden doors!! Whack! Get up and study you shameless boy! Her hand, her slippers, even the broom. That year, I learnt, all three sounded a different whack! But then, this is not something unusual. It's Indian culture! As I sat there that morning, enjoying my breakfast, I realised, right there in Imphal, probably a stone's throw away, there lived three kids, who were probably experiencing the same motherly love. Their mom was known to talk, mainly with her hands. Numerous times, she had thrashed someone, in front of thousands of grown ups and not a single one had dared to interrupt her. If adults quaked in fear in front of their mom, imagine the hapless plight of those poor kids. I felt for them. It was imperative that I meet them and offer them words of support and encouragement. It won't last for ever. Sob! How do you know? I know because I went through the same. See? Am I not here, all grown up, smiling in front of you? I survived! So will you! It was time for action. I gathered my courage, summoned the waitress and asked her up front "Does Mary Kom stay nearby? Is it possible to visit? I would very much love to meet and if possible take a selfie with her." She withdrew to make enquiries and soon returned with some bad news.  Unfortunately, she is out of India right now. Damn! Coming this far, all the way from Pune, but at the wrong time! And it turned out, I was needlessly worried about the kiddos.  Mary Kom with her twins, Rechungvar and Khupneivar Else, they are the most obedient kids in the world!! As mentioned earlier, this awesome family has three kiddos. The youngest one, Prince, is too cute to get into any kind of trouble. For now! How cute? Check out for yourself in this video. Since I have absolutely no intention of getting thrashed, on an off chance, that Mary Kom herself reads this, here is my note for her. Ma'am I am a huge fan of yours, and all of this was written in jest. An artistic license if you will. I am 100% sure, you are an excellent mom. Just like my mother! Breakfast done, bill settled, we prepared to move out. As mentioned in the previous episode, we stayed at the Phou-Oi-Bee Hotel in Imphal. What can I say about that place? It's absolutely fantastic. Excellent rooms and amenities. Tasty food. But more than that, what impressed us most, was the awesome staff. We had arrived late night. They close down early in the North East, as compared to what we are used to in Maharashtra. Hungry? No problem. They literally called their cook back from home and he rustled up a delicious dinner for us! The breakfast was awesome too! For anyone travelling to Imphal, we absolutely recommend this place. Kohima, the capital of Nagaland, lies 137 Km to the north of Imphal, the capital of Manipur, and is connected via NH2. Google said, it would take us around 5 hours.  Imphal to Kohima  "Breakfast" near Imphal The sun was hot outside. Fortunately, the clouds played hide and seek, promising solace later on during the day.  Sometime later, we decided, we had to stop. The view was too beautiful to miss.  Very sparse traffic. Clear roads. Surrounded by forest covered mountains! It was absolutely beautiful! We humans, as a species, are a lazy lot. No other species on earth, can probably match our propensity to avoid all kinds of work. Hundreds of thousands of years back, we started off, like all other animals, living off the land, eating whatever we found or managed to kill. We sheltered under natural formations such as rocks, caves and trees and moved on in search of more things to eat. We were hunter-gatherers. It was a simple life back then. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. But this was too much trouble to some of our ancestors. They rebelled! Why walk in the hot sun, or in the squishy mud under pouring rains just to eat? And those animals? They are a pesky lot. Always running away. Never standing still enough to kill them easily. Surely there has to be some way to have food available at the place where we sit and relax? And so, humans invented farming! Clear the land. Sow. Reap. Eat. No more walking! Sounds good! Oh wait! Not so good if you are living in hilly country. Farming requires flat land. Now what? No problem! We will carve out flat lands right on the hillside! And so, humans invented terrace farming! And we saw this with our own eyes! The ingenuity, born out of sheer laziness!  Terrace farming   Work from home!  Note the solar panel A note to all moms out there: The next time you scold your kids for being lazy, please remember, lazy people are responsible for things such as the wheel or even the bow and arrow. Lazy people have literally triggered off our evolution on an unprecedented scale. Your kid could very well be the one to invent the next big thing, just out of sheer laziness. Our journey continued through the mountains. For us city dwellers, this was a rare treat. Since entering the North East, we had seen only untouched wild nature. Sure, we had passed through numerous villages and hamlets. The road itself we were travelling on, was man made. But these terrace farms were something different. It was a mark left by humans on nature's unblemished skin. As usual, we discussed it to death. Wonder what they grow here. You think rice? Yeah probably! Notice how they had thickened the boundaries of individual farms? That's probably to keep the water inside. True. I have seen rice fields in Konkan. It requires stagnant water. The surroundings are so beautiful. I do not think they use chemical fertilisers. Agree. Traditional Indian agriculture has always been natural. Compost. Cow dung. That kind. Yes! And today the gora sahib has "discovered" it. They call it organic. Hahahaha! Hehe! Yes. But I am a bit worried about this. How so? Terrace farming means cutting trees. No trees means no roots to hold the soil together. Remember it rains heavily in this region. True, but this is the traditional method. If it has lasted so many centuries... What the hell was that! Knock kock tock knock! The keys were rattling like crazy! Suddenly, the road conditions had deteriorated! Apparently, we had driven out of the man made road. Or perhaps the person in charge of the roads here, had forgotten to evolve. Sadly, the good roads had ended. In the 80s, when I was a kid, we used to haunt a place called Videotron (I think), on East Street. Back then, it was the only place in Pune having those arcade video games. You insert the required tokens and played the game of your choice for the prescribed period of time. My favourite, had always been the car racer game. Usually you stood to play these games. Later on, Videotron had installed a booth version. Shaped as a car, you sat in it to race. It was virtual reality of the 80s!!!! Needless to say, it was a hot favourite with all kids back then and many a times, you had to queue up to get your turn. I was reminded of that game, as I worked the steering furiously, trying to stay out of the potholes. But there were just too many of them and eventually I gave up. We continued to crawl along in low gear. And then, I got the distinct feeling the car was handling sluggishly. A few days back, at Turial, the car had scraped its bottom. Twice. Today, travelling over these bad roads, the underside was regularly getting hit by loose rocks. That particular one some minutes back sounded very loud. Please! Let it not be any hydraulics which was damaged. We pulled over to investigate. As it turned out, we had a puncture!  I had mixed feelings as I identified the root cause for the sluggish handling. After four years and thousands of Kilometres, my car had it's first puncture. Should I be glad the tyres lasted so long? Or should I be a bit sad, that the tyre was no longer "pristine". This was like getting the first scratch on a brand new car. You knew it would happen eventually, but you still felt bad when it actually did. No such emotional conundrums for Ashutosh. He was high on schadenfreude. Open the boot! he insisted. Finally, after eight days, he had found a valid reason, to use the air pump for the very first time!  I could no longer take in his enthusiastic blabber about how great it was his idea to procure the pump and how he simply knew this would happen. With my nose up in the air, I walked away and lit a cigarette. Why should I dirty my hands? I was the driver. Let the cleaner do the job! Note: My car runs on stock tubeless Bridgestones, and we had procured a puncture repair kit. It was lying in the boot, but somehow, during the whole journey, we forgot about it and never used it. The road conditions continued to fluctuate between
 Unfortunately for us, it was still by the roadside, and not actually fixing the road. We were nearing Kohima now. It was time to find us a hotel. While searching for hotels, Ashutosh discovered a horrific fact. We were travelling on NH 2 which connects two capital cities. The road condition was real bad. The car was rocking, the keys rattling and we were swaying from side to side. As if this was not bad enough, Ashutosh discovered, NH 2 was also part of AH 2! The highway network in India is made up of SH (state highways) and NH (national highways). In 1982, the Asian Highway project was approved by United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific (ESCAP), with a goal to connect Asia with Europe via a network of highways  Asian Highway Network 32 Asian countries, including India, are signatories to this initiative, and 27,432 of Indian Highways currently are, or will be, part of this network. To put it in a different perspective, the road we were currently travelling on, literally connected India to the outside world! Now imagine a person from say Singapore (yeah, you can drive to Singapore from India, that is on my to do list) or Bhutan, arrives in India via road (we did see lot of Bhutanese vehicles in the North East. They carry distinctive red number plates) What is the first impression they get when they enter India? Bad roads! And why only foreigners? Indian citizens too have a right to enjoy good roads! Everyone pays road tax when they purchase their vehicle. And tolls! Let's not forget tolls! All this revenue is supposed to be towards the upkeep and construction of good roads. Besides giving bad impression to foreigners, there is also the problem of efficiency and economics. Highways are typically used for goods transport. Bad roads mean slower speeds and increased fuel costs. And the extra wear and tear caused to the vehicles. Any way you look at it, bad roads is bad news. Perhaps the terrain was a problem? We do not think so. We had travelled through Meghalaya and Manipur. It has similar terrain. Mountains. Forests. Rains. The road conditions back there were very good for most of the time. Some highways were maintained by the National Highway Authority of India, some by the Border Roads Organisation. Terrain was definitely not a problem. After a huge amount of discussion, we eventually narrowed it down to slack on the part of the individual responsible for this particular highway. I did not fully concur. I had a slightly different take on this. In my opinion, this was a cunning move from the individual who was being accused for not doing the job properly, which would eventually lead to prosperity of the North East. Bear with me.. Bad roads meant wear and tear of vehicles. That meant more business opportunities for mechanics and vehicle spare manufacturers. Bad roads meant discomfort to humans. Travel these roads regularly, and you just might need to see a doctor for stiff muscles or a slipped disc. That meant more incentive for more kids to enter the medical profession. These bad roads connected India to the outside world! Foreigners would travel and get their vehicles damaged or their spines twisted. And guess what? They would have to pay in foreign currency to the mechanic or the doctor. Take a step back and look at the bigger picture. By simply not doing the job, this individual, single handedly, had given a huge boost to education, commerce and even brought in foreign currency. This was the least appreciated economic idea since like forever! I bowed down in reverence to his foresight and vision. This person was the guru of all lazy people. This person needs to be identified and made to travel on this same road, at high speeds, in a vehicle without any kind of suspension whatsoever! I hate this person! My car hates him even more!! Besides this, the saddest thing we saw was the dust. Clouds of dust billowed behind all vehicles. And we saw lots of small kids, walking through these dust clouds, probably on their way home from school (all were in uniform). Education in India has several issues already. Kids are graded on what they can recite by rote and not on what they actually understood or learnt. In rural areas, children regularly travel long distance, many a times on foot to attend school. The list goes on. And on top of all this, the dust. The dust ruled the day. The dust was everywhere. In the air. On the road. On the clothes of passersby. And the kids were breathing it in! Surely they deserve better? Usually we ate by some road side dhaba or restaurant or whatever we could find. That day we intentionally went hungry all the way to Kohima. Whatever roadside eateries we saw, there was dust all round it. Dust coated food? No thanks. We continued to crawl along. Eventually we saw buildings constructed right on the hillside. After crawling along for almost nine hours on a route, which should not have taken more than five hours, we had arrived at Kohima.  Entering Kohima Kohima is a beautiful place. Literally everything is built on the hills. Travelling in Kohima means either going up or down a hill! For flat landers like us Punekars, this was a new and fun experience. But first things first. We were hungry. We wanted food! If you are in Kohima, and wish to purchase anything, the Bazar is the place to go. We navigated there and fortunately found a vacant parking spot.  Parked at Kohima Bazar It was around five in the evening and majority of the shops were already closed. Fortunately, some distance away, right across the street, we saw a sign, which said Pollitos No clue what kind of cuisine it served, but it was open, so we strolled in. And boy! We had hit the jackpot this time. This is what they served!  I am supposed to watch my waistline, but this was authentic Nagaland cuisine! I told myself as I savoured it! Jokes apart, anyone going to Kohima, should try out Pollitos!  On our way to Kohima, as was his routine, Ashutosh had tried to find us a hotel online. Unfortunately he had not been able to actually book one. Lunch/Dinner done, we moved on to the one he had shortlisted. Had had talked to them over the phone and they had confirmed, they did have a room vacant. Sadly, they did not have parking available. Their lot was already full. Roadside parking is big no no in Kohima, since the roads are hardly two carriage wide. What now? Park somewhere else and walk all the way back? With the suitcase? Not a good idea. The public parking lot was quite some distance. While we discussed our predicament, the lady at the reception made some phone calls. There is this place, which has recently opened up. I spoke to them and they confirmed they have rooms available and a parking space. They will hold it for you for the next 15 minutes. You are, of course more than welcome to use the public parking and stay with us. We would be happy to have you. We eventually decided against staying. We thanked her for all her help and moved over to the new place. Sadly, it was a total rip off. For starters I had to literally put the car on the footpath, in front of a shop. This, apparently, was the parking they promised the lady. Then the place itself. We had to carry our luggage up the stairs. No elevator. And the rooms? It is literally a big hall, with wooden partitions to create rooms. Not even a single ashtray in the room. No matches either. I had ran out of fluid in my lighter and had to negotiate hard with them. Eventually they gave me an inch long candle stub which they lit on their cooking fire. Absolutely disgusting. And for all this, they charged us around Rs. 3000/- It was late. It was tourist season. There were almost no other rooms available in Kohima. Where could we go? And they knew it. We got a costly lesson in the basics of capitalism. ----------------------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll None Hotel Hotel Travelodge (Not recommended. Avoid like a plague)  Coming up next: Day ten; Kohima to Roing Last edited by RedTerrano : 10th November 2018 at 20:17. |
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11th November 2018, 20:58
| #12 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
Posts: 973
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| Day 10. The magnificent men and their magic machines - Kohima to Roing (Part 1) Light at the end of the tunnel - the sissiest cops - surviving a train challenge - fishtailing and rally cross in a river of mud - crossing the Ram Setu - when in doubt, call Paul  Er. Imnayanger Imchen, Coordinator NEPeD-CERES On the morning of 17 February 1942, the Sun got into His chariot, and coaxed His seven horses to start their daily ascent into the skies. As He looked down upon Singapore, He blinked and did a double take. Under His very nose, at Farrer Park (now known as Farrer Park Field), a historic moment was unfolding. Assembled in the park, were 45,000 Indian POWs. Three men, in turn would address them. First was one Colonel Hunt of the British Malayan command. Two days before, on the 15th, Lieutenant-General Arthur Ernest Percival, commander of the British Commonwealth forces in the Malayan campaign, had formally surrendered to the Japanese Imperial Army, when they overran Singapore. Colonel Hunt was present that day, to formally hand over charge of the 45,000 Indian soldiers of the British Raj, to the Japanese.  British troops surrendering to the Japanese Imperial Army, Singapore Second to speak was Major Iwaichi Fujiwara of the Imperial Japanese Army. He formally accepted charge of the troops from Colonel Hunt and invited them to join the Japanese Army. You are our friends and allies, not POWs he proclaimed.  Major Iwaichi Fujiwara The last to speak was Captain Mohan Singh. He coaxed his fellow countrymen to accept the Japanese offer and fight to overthrow the British rule from India. They would not serve under the Japanese, like they had served under the British, but as equals. By their side. He outlined the plan of forming their own Army. Indian soldiers, fighting to liberate the motherland. This Army, he went on to add, would be called the Indian National Army! His short but fiery speech was received with wild enthusiasm and excitement. It was a moment in history. For the first time since 1857, numerous Indians, from all corners of India, had banded together to liberate their motherland. That day, on that field in Singapore, the INA, was born!  Major Iwaichi Fujiwara greeting Captain Mohan Singh 40,000 Indian soldiers joined their forces with the Japanese that day. Captain Mohan Singh, was now elevated to a General and put in charge of the INA. He was a soldier and an excellent orator. Unfortunately, a diplomat, he was not. Though he got along extremely well with Major Fujiwara, he would go on to have severe disagreements with the Japanese High command, and was removed from his post on 29 December 1942 and placed into Japanese military custody. But what of the INA? Who would lead them now? I will! said a strong firm voice. Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, formally took command of the INA in June 1943. INA was revived as the Azad Hind Fauj!  In March 1944, the INA, along with the Japanese Imperial Army, attacked the British troops assembled at Kohima, who were preparing for an invasion of Myanmar, which was under Japanese control back then. A pitched battle ensured on Garrison Hill and in the end the British forces prevailed. There were heavy casualties on both the sides. The place, where the commonwealth soldiers who lost their lives were given their last rites, is today know as the Kohima War Cemetery.  War cemetery. Kohima town can be seen in the background. I woke up that morning, opened the window to let the fresh air in, and right there, across the road, was the entrance to the cemetery. During the planning stages in Pune, we had discussed the tentative route we should travel, things we would do and places we would visit. Kohima war cemetery had been one of them. But I always had second thoughts about it. Did I genuinely want to go and pay my respects (no point in going if it was not genuine). And pay respects to whom? I gave two hoots about the non Indians who fell that day. 3 Australian 5 Canadian 1082 British. Did I respect them as soldiers? Of course. They had made the supreme sacrifice for their flag and country. And that was the problem. Their flag and country was different than mine. And what about the Indian soldiers? 330 Indians too, are buried there. And a memorial stands for an additional 917 Sikh and Hindu soldiers, who were not buried but cremated as per their faith. So a sum total of 1247 Indians and 1090 non Indians. All gave their lives so the Union Jack could continue to fly over my country. What if those 1247 had made the supreme sacrifice from the other side? Would the outcome have been different? Probably. Someone has rightly said, the biggest word in any language is If! Consider some numbers. In his book, History of Modern India, Bipin Chandra tells us, in 1857, during the war of independence (wrongly called mutiny by British historians), the strength of the British army (East India Company army actually) was 3,11,400 soldiers....out of which 2,65,900 were Indians! 265,900 Indians serving under 45,500 British! Indians were five times the British! And we still lost that war as well. History has show, misplaced loyalty and infighting have been our downfall since centuries. And the sad saga continues even today. We never learn from history. Before I wrap up this topic, I would like to clarify something. I have nothing but utmost respect for each and everyone who serves in uniform. Today similar men in uniform guard our borders, so people like me, can sit in their armchairs and spew opinions on What If Note: For those who might want to find out more, on what happened to the INA post independence, I recommend this and this article, to get a short version of the story. --------------------------------------------- As it turned out, I was saved from the moral dilemma I might have faced. The cemetery opens at 09:00. We were long gone from Kohima by then.  Kohima, Nagaland - Roing, Arunachal Pradesh Today, we would travel from Kohima to Roing. Google said just above 12 hours. But going by past experience, we knew better and we vacated the hotel around 08:00 in the morning. It was good we had an early start, because eventually it took us 19 hours! The day started off bad for me. I had thought, 08:00 meant we could swiftly get out of town. I had forgotten, we were in Kohima.  Everything here is built on hills. There is nothing like swiftly here. Just winding roads and careful driving at very moderate speeds. Then there was the quality of roads. Inside Kohima, the roads are good. As soon as we exited the corporation limits, the road conditions deteriorated. We had faced similar bad roads yesterday, almost all the way from Imphal to Kohima. And lastly there was the fact that I hadn't had my coffee yet. All this meant, I was in a foul mood. Fortunately, around half an hour down the road, we found this small place. The weather was awesome. The coffee was perfect.  Here is another pic at the same location. Notice the bike in the background. We found, biking is big in the North East. Lots of people, especially youngsters, have done beautiful modifications to their bikes. Wide handles à la Harley Davidson, additional headlights, growling exhausts to name a few. End result? Awesome mean machines! They have also probably formed riding clubs, because we saw groups of them at quite a lot of places. And all of them, each and everyone of them, always rode with helmets! Got to give it to these youngsters. They definitely understand the value of safety!  Also notice the dust on the car. The wiper fluid has left stains. The sides are absolutely caked with mud. The only clean surface is the wiper arcs on the windshield. Doesn't she look absolutely beautiful? We petrol heads are a strange breed. At home, we strive to keep our cars spotlessly clean. But once out on the road, we absolutely adore all this dust. We wear it just as proudly aa a soldier would wear his war wounds. With pride! A badge of honour if you will!! This car has been places!!! This car has been through exciting adventures!!!! And then there are some, who just don't get it. Why dude, why? The dirty glass is causing problems. The dust shows up in the photos. Hello! We have this huge windshield at the front which is clean! Why can't you take pics through it? Because not everything interesting is in front. Sometimes it's at the sides. It is in front initially, if you pay attention and are quick enough! Were you paying attention at that huge pothole back there? Were you quick enough? Of course I was. I manage to avoid it by inches didn't I? And thus we bickered on in good jest, as two friends cooped inside a car for days to an end will bicker. All the way to Dimapur. Which is like 68 Km away from Kohima. And took us four hours! Why? This is why. Check out the road condition. One interesting thing to note here, is that tanker. No, it's not leaking water. Well not unintentionally anyway. It is actually doing it on purpose. That tanker has a pipe attached to it's back. Water gushes out of this pipe through a series of holes drilled into it. It is an ancient but efficient technique, to keep the dust settled on the ground. And we were seeing this ancient technique in action, in May 2018. To be fair, we did see lots of construction equipment by the roadside. Someone had noticed the problem, and kick started the huge government machinery into action. But all this was too late for us. We continued to crawl along in low gear. Unlike yesterday, road conditions did improve eventually and we picked up speed. Some time later, driving through the snaky mountainous road, we spotted something which looked like a roadside shop. Seeing it was abandoned, we decided this was a perfect place to pull over for a smoke break.  The moment we stepped out of the car, we noticed something, almost immediately! The smell! We could smell the forest!!! We sucked in this beautiful smelling air into our lungs, as much as we could. It was fantastic! No costly perfume in the world can ever compete with this beautiful forest aroma! Never!   People in cities would probably pay an arm, leg and a kidney for such a fantastic view! It's times like these, places like these, we often pondered on the big philosophical question. What is happiness? We city dwellers think money is happiness and we eagerly take the plunge into the rat race. Come to North East once, and you will realise, people like these mountain folk from Nagaland, have discovered the real secret to happiness long time back.  Note the good road conditions. On a tree, right next to where we had stopped, was a board. Fire wood for sale. This didn't make any sense at all! Why would anyone pay for firewood, when the whole forest was literally next door?  Probably this was why the shop was abandoned.! They had gone out of business over a bad business idea!! Like all good things do, these beautiful vistas too came to an end. We drove out of the mountains, out of the beautiful forests, and onto the plains. Say hello to traffic! Say hello to vehicle fumes!! Say hello to civilisation!!! We had arrived in Dimapur. Ashutosh signalled me to pull over, while he made a few phone calls. Some time later, he got whatever information he was looking for, and plotted the route on his phone. We followed the navigation instructions and eventually reached our destination. We were at The Nagaland Tool Room & Training Centre. Not everyone can be a doctor or an engineer. So the Government of Nagaland, has set up such institutions like NTRTC, with an objective to impart vocational training in manufacturing tools, dies, fixtures and jigs, among other things. But we were not really here to for that. We were here to meet some magicians. And we found them in a place tucked behind NTRTC. And this is the magic they create!  Hydroger Electricity is transmitted immense distances over power lines. Tall poles are erected at regular intervals and power lines are strung over them. It is laborious and costly work. We take these things for granted, especially in cities. But what about far off remote places? Say a hamlet of 5-10 houses? On some mountain far away? All these years, such places were simply ignored. Out of sight, out of mind. Things have drastically changed in the recent years. Among other things, the Govt. aggressively pushed for electrification of each and every village and hamlet in the country. This scheme was a huge success, ahead of it's schedule. We were here to meet the awesome people, who had actually made this possible on the proverbial last mile of the power lines. We were here to see their magic machines in action! In 2007, the Government of Nagaland founded the Nagaland Empowerment of People through Energy Development (NEPeD). They identified bright officers who were in Govt. service back then, and told them to take charge of this organisation. Their mandate? Clean green energy for rural electrification. Initially, they conducted some experiments with nano generators of Chinese make. Soon they identified two major problems. Like most of the Chinese stuff, these generators were unreliable. And more importantly, why use Chinese goods? Why can't we make it in India? Numerous rounds of design and testing later, they were ready. The first indigenous hydroger was ready! Here is how it works. The hydroger is a small generator, which depends on water to generate electricity. A pocket hydro electric plant, if you will. NEPeD has a dedicated team which travels to remote villages. Many times, such a journey takes days. On foot! Then they scout the nearby area for perennial streams or other suitable water sources. All kinds of tests are done to confirm there is enough water available. Then they come back. And go to the remote village, once again! This time with the hydroger. Check out this video to see how it's done. That applause and those cheers? That's job satisfaction folks! Pure unadulterated job satisfaction!! We had been listening to Shri. Imnayanger Imchen tell us all the details! We were literally stunned hearing all this! Imagine Govt. officers walking days to check for streams! And walking once again to do the actual installation! Sir, is it possible to see this hydroger in action? Sure! Why not! And these amazing folks at NEPeD haven't stopped at that! They also run a program called Centre of Excellence for Renewable Energy Studies (CERES) as well. This program is two fold.
Everyone likes their work appreciated. I am sure so do NEPeD. Why not drop them a line of congratulations? Or perhaps order your very own Hydroger for your farmhouse? Or maybe sponsor one for the next remote hamlet on their list. You can get in touch with the NEPeD folks here. ------------------------------------------------------- Soon after Dimapur, we exited Nagaland and entered Assam. Again. Every time I drove into Assam, majority of the times, I found the roads to be bad. Would it be any different this time? Of course not!  Bad roads in Assam. Again! By now it was around five in the evening. We had stopped at a roadside hotel for lunch and had been travelling for almost nine hours now. One huge problem for drivers, especially on long routes, is boredom. How many mile stones would you read? How many unpainted speed breakers would you curse? How many potholes would you avoid. In the end, repetition begets boredom and before you know it, all things seem to merge in your head. They key is to keep your brain refreshed by constantly giving it new input to process. But this was the 10th day on the road for us. Whatever things we wanted to discuss, had been discussed. Songs? We were carrying tons of songs. Meh! Done it. Heard it for the zillionth time. Besides Ashutosh was busy on the phone today, helping out one of his clients. I had tuned out long time back. All that talk of taxes and numbers and what not, meant falling off to sleep for me. Not a good idea while driving. So I did, what I always do. I imagine myself to be a Cheetah. Or an X wing star fighter pilot of the Rebel Alliance. If I am a Cheetah, I need a prey to chase and hunt. If not, I need a TIE fighter. Soon I found one. A TIE fighter. So pilot it is today. Pew! Pew! Pew! We had been travelling through rural Assam and I was bored. The road was the usual Assam road. Potholes. traffic and animals sitting anywhere on the road. Suddenly I spotted flashing lights in my rear view mirror and I moved over to the side a bit to give way. A police gypsy zoomed past us. It was a lone vehicle, but still had a red flag hanging out. The back was full of policemen with automatic rifles and I realised they were probably part of some convoy. That explained the flag. But why was he alone? Where were the rest? Probably he had been delayed and was rushing to catch up. Perfect! Government vehicle, flashing lights. This was the vehicle I should follow. It will clear all traffic on it's way, and we can sail through in his wake. Police vehicles and ambulances are like Moses at the red sea. Time it properly and you can be the next in line, crossing the Red Sea! The chase began! I had to be careful here of course. To start with I was driving a vehicle with MH plates. In Assam. And chasing an Assam police vehicle. Full of armed Assamese cops. So at a safe distance, I continued to follow him. It was working out perfectly as expected. He would weave through all the impediments and I would follow. After some time, he realised what I was doing. I suspect the driver exchanged some words with the cops at the back, and suddenly two of them peered out, gazing at me intently. But I think they realised we were harmless. I mean which criminal would get into a high speed chase behind a police vehicle, driving a bright coloured easy to spot vehicle, that too with out of state number plates? None. So they ignored us. In the end, the inevitable happened. He had 88 horses under his hood. I had 110. I overtook him. The X wing had shot down the TIE fighter! The thrill of the chase was temporarily gone. I eased off the accelerator a bit and dropped behind him. I was trying to think, how soon should I do it all over again, when it happened! We were passing through forested areas when he disappeared into a curve. I followed him in, a few seconds later  I stood on my brakes, the ABS system kicked in while I frantically worked down the gear box. I had managed to come to a halt literally two inches behind him. My left front wheel had climbed down the tarmac, but I had successfully managed to avoid a collision! And then, unbelievably, he started to reverse! The stock Terrano horn is very loud. I slammed my palm on the steering wheel, and fortunately he stopped just in time. He moved ahead a bit, and frantically reversed, circumventing me, and came to a halt a few feet behind me.   What the hell is going on! And then, I noticed the elephant in the room. Literally!  That disgusting coward! He was the one with a vehicle full of people carrying automatic weapons. And still he had sneaked behind me! What a sissy! He probably hid the same way behind his mom, when he was a kid!! Probably still does!!! I was absolutely disgusted!!!! First he stops on a blind curve on a highway. Imagine what would have happened if I had banged into him. Then he tries to reverse and almost bangs into me! Again imagine if he had. And to top it all, he runs and hides behind me. And these guys are cops! Carrying automatic weapons!! In the meanwhile, the elephant, oblivious to all this drama, had calmly crossed the road and had went off on his way. I shot the gypsy a withering stare in my mirror and floored it. I never saw him again. ----------------------------------------------------------- For quite some time now, we had been travelling on Assam roads and it had turned dark outside. We seemed to be passing through predominantly rural areas. Tea plantations had dominated the landscape. But all of them had vanished now. All I could see in my headlights was the road and the typical signboards, milestones and white painted lines. Traffic continued to be sparse in many places and we appeared to be the only vehicle on the road. Suddenly, far away, there was a strange illumination in the sky. It was heavily overcast and the clouds seem to glow in a strange orange reddish hue. Sometimes, clouds high up in the sky, might reflect the sunlight beyond the horizon, even when it is dark on the ground. But this was something different. Something slightly scary. Had we somehow driven into Mordor? Ashutosh had dozed off and I nudged him awake. I pointed out the glowing coals in the sky and he said "Digboi probably". Jejeebhoy? Some Parsi dude? What are you talking about? Are you fully awake? The clouds! Look at the clouds! Yup. Digboi. Not Jejeebhoy! D.I.G.B.O.I. Do you think you need a hearing aid? As it turned out, he was right. About Digboi. Not the hearing aid. In 1825, British Army officers passing through the jungles of upper Assam, stumbled upon a strange type of mud. It smelt different, was wet, but still caught fire if you took a match to it. Crude was literally oozing out of the ground. 1825! Thirty two years before the first war of Independence! Manikarnika Tambe was a mere three year old child back then, probably playing with her dolls in Varanasi! It would be years later, that she would walk into the history books and become immortalised as the Rani of Jhansi. Fast forward a few years after her death. In 1882, a Canadian engineer, one W L Lake had gone into the Assam jungles, probably for shikaar, when suddenly a bunch of elephants emerged from the forest. He noticed their feet were stained with oil. Dig boy, dig! He urged his natives, remembering the oil strike in Pennsylvania just 23 years back. Thus Digboi. Or at least the story goes that way. They (or someone else in reality) started digging and struck oil. A huge plume of crude gushed high in the sky. They capped it and build machinery to harvest it from the ground. And they are still doing it today. Digboi has the world's oldest working oil well in the world! No wonder, it is known as the Oil City of Assam. Unfortunately, the route Ashutosh had charted, did not take us through Digboi. We were on the outskirts of Dibrugarh. Now Dibrugarh is a heavily industrialised area. The whole district is dotted with numerous oil and natural gas rigs and of course their refineries. Traffic, mainly trucks, suddenly picked up. The road was a typical Assam road. Potholed. On top of it, it had rained rather heavily some time back. I was fed up of the constant gear change. It was time for a smoke break. I pulled over. You know what, I am thinking there could a short cut. Oh yeah? Tell me more. I love shortcuts. I am game for anything to avoid this traffic. See this turn? If we take it, I think we will be on a road which will bypass Dibrugarh itself! Only problem is this break in between, on the map. Lets go and check it out. Who dares wins! And so we took the right turn. Visibility was poor. The rain had switched on a slight drizzle, worsening things. We continued to crawl along a narrow lane. Now a left turn, and right there in front of us was a road which looked to be in excellent condition. I congratulated Ashutosh on his excellent navigation and got on to the road. The road was really good and I could speed up. Some time later we passed quite a lot of construction machinery and vehicles parked by the roadside. We drove quite some distance. Not a single pothole since we got on to this road! Encouraged, I picked up more speed. This was awesome! We were going to bypass Dibrugarh altogether and join the road to Tinsukia directly! Wonder why none of those trucks are taking this route! Probably they were not as smart as us, we sniggered a bit. Suddenly, the car fishtailed! Violently!! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Fortunately I remembered the correct thing to do in such situations! I let go off the accelerator and without touching the brakes, I turned the wheel towards the direction of the skid. Swiftly working down the gearbox, I managed to bring the car to a dead stop. We let out a huge sigh of relief and peered outside. And saw almost nothing. It was pitch black. Raindrops clung to the glass, further reducing visibility. Even a high beam was not that helpful. Later on I would discover, the headlights had a film of dust and mud on it. From what we could see, we deduced we had driven into a sea of very slimy mud. Ashutosh opened his door to step out and realised it was quite a few inches deep. No point in getting out. The oozing mud was everywhere. So this is why there was a break on the map. The road was still under construction! And this is why the truckers gave this road such a wide berth! They were the smart ones!! Now what? Turn back. No other option. Easier said than done. The mud made any kind of steering almost impossible. It was like driving in water! The car was all over the place and I had almost zero control. In the end, I used almost the whole width of the "road" to point the wheels in the right direction. Back on the proper road, we meekly followed the trucks. Later on, outside Dibrugarh, when we stopped for dinner, I took a look at the tyres. They were absolutely caked in mud on the sides. It had been a close call indeed! ------------------------------------------------------- In India, there are all kinds of drivers, and over the decades I have been driving, I believe I have met all types. There are good drivers and there are bad drivers. And then there are bad drivers with high intensity lamps fitted to their vehicles. And they make copious use of it at night. They always drive with a high beam on. But surprisingly, these same morons will avoid using any kind of indicators. And as if this was not enough, there are the types who just cant keep their hands off the horn. Have vehicle, will honk. For no reason whatsoever! Just for fun! Some even manage to play tunes on their horns! Punekars will understand what I am talking about!! ♫ ट ट टटा, टटा टटा ! !�� Dinner done, we were headed towards Tinsukia. Suddenly a bright light in my outside rear view mirror almost blinded me! I shifted my head position a bit and carried on. After some time, a loud honk bellowed! What is wrong with you! There is a whole lane to my right, which you can use, if you wish to overtake me! Just go ahead already! And overtake me, he did. And just before passing, he blew his horn one more time! This time it was LOUD! Very loud! Irritated, I looked towards my right. Good God! It was a train!!!! We were running parallel to the railway tracks, and the train had just overtaken me! And that last honk had been a challenge! It was a matter of honour now! The hell with the potholes. The car suspension had survived worse roads than this! I will show him the consequences of challenging someone from the land of the Marathas! Jai Bhavani!! Jai Shivaji!!! The race was on! And that's how I earned the bragging rights of challenging a train to a race...and winning!  Ladies and gentlemen, meet the undisputed champion of the race, my Nissan Terrano 110PS! I am just as proud of her, as Maharana Pratap was proud of his beloved Chetak!! ---------------------------------------------------------------- Kilometre after kilometre we sped on. It was well past midnight now. Our headlights pierced the darkness and we gobbled up the roads. It had been a very long day for us, full of frustration due to bad roads and I was on the verge of exhaustion. My shoulder muscles ached and I felt my right knee stiffen a bit. All this braking and accelerating had taken it's toll. It had not been an enjoyable drive at all. There had been numerous stops for tea or cigarettes but there are only certain amount of cups you can drink or cigarettes you can smoke to keep fatigue at bay. I was staying focused on sheer will power. And then, from the darkness to my left, Ashutosh said the three magic words. Almost there now! In an instant my brain was refreshed! I knew what he meant!! We had discussed this many times and agreed, this would be one of the major milestones of our expedition. We were about to cross the mighty Lohit! We were about to cross the Dhola Sadiya bridge!! Dhola and Sadiya are two ports on opposite banks of the Lohit river. Over the decades numerous boatmen have successfully ferried numerous people, their belongings, and many a times even their vehicles onto the other side. The boatmen make a good living from this and the residents manage to cross over without any hassle. Works out for everyone. Well, almost! Not good enough for us! said the Army. Typically, the Army guards the borders. Arunachal Pradesh is a border state. Ergo, our Army needs to be in Arunachal Pradesh. However, one lesson which the debacle in Sino Indian war of 1962 taught us, was that Army needs to reach the border swiftly! Shockingly this valuable lesson remained only on paper. Check out the unbelievable timeline 2003 - first feasibility project undertaken (this is a mind boggling forty one years after the war) 2009 - bridge approved (six years) 2011 - actual construction began (two years) 2014 - still under construction. (three years of delays and cost hikes) In the meanwhile, the Army continued to use the longer route (six hours travel time longer) whenever they wanted to move from northern Assam to Eastern Arunachal. In 2014, the current Govt. decided to fast track this, and on 26 May 2017, the bridge was officially inaugurated by the Prime Minister of India, Shri Narendra Modi. And here we were, on 24 May 2018, almost a year to the day after the inauguration, about to cross over the same bridge. For all those who expected to see the bridge in the video, you are right. This is just the approach road and we stopped shooting the moment we neared the bridge. And for good reason. Two days back, on our way to Imphal, we had almost got shot, thanks to my stupidity. That memory was still fresh in our minds. You have seen the barricades in the video. As we neared the bridge, there were even more. And a bunch of of security personnel. With automatic weapons. An out of state car, approaching a bridge built exclusively for the military, at 02:30 in the morning, and someone in the car filming. Not a smart idea. And that's why we didn't stop in the middle of the bridge either. But we did do it on our way back. You can see it in all it's glory when I write about it in the next few instalments. For now, this is it. As we neared the bridge, we were not asked to stop or produce identification or anything. Just multiple pair of eyes, peered at us intently. In fact I got so nervous, that I switched on the interior lights. See? No bad guys here! No reaction. Hesitantly, I drove on. And kept on driving. The Dhola Sadiya bridge (also known as the Bhupen Hazarika Setu), spans the Lohit river and with a length of 9.15 Km, it is the longest bridge in India. Here I was, at the start of the bridge. Glorious 9.15 Km of unhindered road stretched out in a straight line, right in front of me. There was no other vehicle in sight. The bridge winked at me. And a voice in my head whispered. This is what you have been waiting for since Pune! Go on!! Do it!!! Oh yes! I concurred. And I floored it. The turbo kicked in around 2000 RPM and we shot ahead like a bullet. A quick change up the gear box and in a few seconds, we were gliding in top gear! One eye on the road, the other on the speedometer, accelerator jammed to the floor. I kept on piling up speed. The dashed line on the tarmac continued to zoom past us faster and faster, till it was a mere blur of a continuous white streak! The adrenaline pump was working overtime! What a rush! What a magnificent high! Oh what an awesome feeling! Sadly, it was all over in a few minutes. But totally worth it! Mentally I ticked off one more item as Done! on my todo list! -------------------------------------------------------------- We had stopped for a celebratory smoke after crossing the bridge, and had strutted around a bit! Like squirrels who had successfully crossed the Ram Setu!! Back in the car, a furious discussion ensued. Exactly how many tanks do you think will fit in the width of the bridge. A few days back, at the Rhino Heritage Museum, Shillong, we had stood right next to real tanks and had even taken selfies. And this qualified us to be armchair military experts!! Unfortunately we had different ideas of how wide exactly was a tank. Thus the debate! Somewhere near Shantipur, we crossed the state border. We had entered Arunachal Pradesh! Some time later, a turn in the road, and out of the darkness, a torch shone onto us. Inspite of the glare, we could see in the background, a light lazily rotating in mid air. Security check! I switched on the interior lights and pulled over. A bunch of uniformed men with automatic weapons surrounded the car. I rolled down the window. Jai Hind Sirjee! Jai Hind! Who are you and why are you here at this hour? Going to Roing! (Heh! It rhymes and sounds a bit funny now. But back then it was all serious) Roing? Why? A rather detailed explanation followed. We were politely asked to get out of the car. Government issued photo IDs were presented for scrutiny. The boot was opened for inspection. Eventually everyone relaxed. You can't go to Roing! What! Cant go? Why not? Road blocked due to landslide? Are we on the wrong road or something? You can't go now. You need a permit. You can get one only in the morning! Oh bother! The permit! Of course! We had forgotten all about it! OK. So what do we do now? There is a police station ahead. Few meters beyond it, is the check post where you would be issued the permit. Best you stop there for the night. Sir we really cant wait the whole night. Its three in the morning now, and we have been on the road since 08:00 yesterday. I don't issue permits. I can't help you. Try telling all this to the officer who does. At the check post. He had a point. Bidding him goodbye, we moved on. We pulled over near the check post. No sign of anybody. We checked the police station. No sign of anybody there either. There was nothing else to be done. We were discussing how it's possible to push the seats back and sleep in the car, when headlights approached from the opposite direction. It was a truck. They pulled over. The driver got down with some paper in his hand and walked to the house next to the check post. Curious, we followed. He rang the bell. After a while, a gentleman stepped out, rubbing his eyes! He inspected the paper and pulled out a thickish register. A flurry of stamps. Sign here! He told the trucker. That was it! This must be the officer who issued permits! At last! Once the trucker was gone, we introduced ourselves, explained where we had come from, and requested the permit. I am sorry. I can't I don't have the authority. But you have the official stamp. You have the register. You are the authority. No. I just maintain the exit register for vehicles. I don't have the authority to issue you a permit. [word limit reached] [contd...] Last edited by Aditya : 29th January 2020 at 08:36. Reason: Mention of overspeeding |
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11th November 2018, 22:12
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| Day 10. The magnificent men and their magic machines - Kohima to Roing (Part 2) [...contd from above] Dejected we walked away! The office had been empty, but we had been fortunate enough to find the officer. Unfortunately, we had found the wrong one. Damn! After coming this far! And suddenly epiphany struck Ashutosh. Call Paul! Are you serious? It's three in the morning! You want to sleep in the car? No. Don't worry. The sunrise is very early here as compared to Pune and people here are used to getting up early. And Paul is a very nice friend! I am sure he won't mind at all. I was not really sure how long this Paul would think Ashutosh was a very nice friend of his, if he kept on getting calls at three in the morning!! After this brief discussion, Ashutosh placed the call. He apologised for the late hour and quickly described the situation. The phone exchanged hands. Paul briefly spoke to the officer, who finally agreed to let us through. On one condition. You must return tomorrow morning and complete the paperwork. We promised we would. The barrier went up and we drove into Roing. All the way to our hotel, I kept wondering about this Paul. Who is he exactly? With one phone call, he had managed to get the gates opened up for us! At three in the morning! Was he some local mafia don? Or perhaps a politician? Not much difference between politicians and mafia dons anyway. And how did Ashutosh even know him in the first place? He was into taxes and accounts and numbers! Wait! That money laundering thing! That required exactly the skillset Ashutosh possessed! Could it be true, that all this time I had been mistaken into thinking I was travelling with a law abiding citizen? Questions questions questions. But the answers could wait. We had been on the road for 19 hours now and it had been a very tiring journey. We checked in at our hotel. I entered the room, kicked off my shoes and threw myself on the bed. I was fast asleep, even before the lights went out. ------------------------------------------------------------- Here is a brief summary of a few statistics for those who might be interested Toll: None Hotel: Yatri Niwas  Coming up next: Day eleven; Camped at Roing |
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12th November 2018, 12:42
| #14 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 11. The eagle has landed - Camped at Roing Heaven has a thatched roof - at the point of return - the art of navel gazing - for the sake of saké  Remember the good old days when you were a child? Everything you needed was provided for. You were clothed, you were fed and overall, you were pampered. Everything you required, was taken care of by someone else. Unfortunately, you grew up, and faced the very first problem of your life. School. Nobody even asked you, if you wanted to go to school. And if you voiced your objections, nobody even cared. You simply had to go. And there, they gave you homework. Many bright minds have figured out the logic, No school means no homework. This was a magnificent leap of analytical thinking. One would expect the adults, to appreciate this evolutionary milestone. But nobody did. It was ironic they didn't, considering why they wanted you to go to school in the first place. To learn things! Hadn't you just stumbled across the greatest lesson ever? Sorry kiddo! Nobody cared!! And over decades of education, you never learnt anything. You still continued to grow. And before you knew it, you were all grown up. Spouse, kids, EMI, responsibility. The works! Hah! Gotcha sucker! Welcome to the rat race. We had travelled approximately 4,500 KM from Pune Maharashtra, to reach Roing, Arunachal Pradesh. On the way, apparently something magical had happened. Along with the geographical distance, we seemed to have also travelled back in time. It had taken us ten days to reach Roing and we had arrived, very late at night. Every day, I woke up to my alarm. Today I woke up to some birds making a racket on the tree outside. I stretched luxuriously and noticed the telephone by the bedside. Could you please send one coffee please? See? This was like childhood. I expressed my wish and someone obliged! Or would soon oblige anyway. This was fantastic! We had no schedule today. We had absolutely zero plans. We were just going to laze around. Do what we wished. No place to reach. Nothing to do. Eat. Sleep. Laze around. We were far far away from everything! We were back to the good old days! Coffee would arrive eventually. It was time to go out and play with my friends. I stepped out. Oh boy! Was I wrong! I was not just a child, I was the child who had woken up and discovered it was a holiday!  Right in front of me, was my magnificent chariot. which had driven across the time barrier. And in the background, lay the mountains of Arunachal. They seemed to be chatting with the clouds. Look! New people! I bet they will click my photographs! Hey Mr. Cloud, do you mind moving a bit to the side? Thank you! We dragged the armchairs from the room out onto the lawn and draped ourselves on them. As if by magic, one Mr. Baruah appeared with a tray. Steaming hot coffee, omelettes and buttered toast! I almost hugged him out of sheer joy! Good morning Sir! A very good morning to you Mr Baruah. I hope you had a comfortable sleep. I sure did! Tell me something, is it always this beautiful and quiet here? Beautiful? Yes! Quiet? Well kind of. Everyone else is gone. Gone? Why? Err because it's 10 in the morning? Grown up me: Good god! It was 10 in the morning! The permit! We must go and complete the formalities. Arunachal is a border state! We must comply immediately! There are strict rules here! There are consequences. Child me: Relax! Enjoy this breakfast. Soak in the view. Live a little. The permit office is not going anywhere. Child me had a point. Grown up me concurred. Breakfast polished off, and I settled for a luxurious smoke with my coffee. Smokers will probably relate to this better, but there is something magical in enjoying a smoke in the lap of nature. Birds were chirping on the trees. I could hear a leaky faucet dripping somewhere in the background. Steam billowed up from my coffee cup, and it seemed to compete with the clouds drifting across the mountains. Compete! I smiled at the thought. I had competed with a train yesterday. And won! Eventually we coaxed ourselves out of the chairs. A shave and shower later, we were ready to head out. Just look at my dirty girl! Isn't she looking so beautiful?  Unfortunately my Cinderella seemed to have cracked her left glass slipper. Don't worry my love, we will soon get it fixed. For now, a temporary solution. While the bandaid is applied, here is a 360° view of Yatri Niwas, Roing, Arunachal Pradesh. While scouting around, I discovered another beauty tucked into the corner.  From the gleaming chrome and clean shoes, it was obvious, this Cinderella was yet to go to the ball! We drove to the check post. The permit was a straight forward affair. Govt issued photo ID presented and inspected. Particulars noted down. Vehicle documents? No need. That's for commercial vehicles only. Fees paid. Thump! Thump! Rubber stamped affixed. Signature scribbled. And done! We were out in ten minutes! Phew! From outlaws, to law abiding citizens once again. We had promised the officer to return and complete the formalities. We fulfilled that promise first thing in the morning. Then we went to keep another promise I had made.  My Cinderella got her shoes repaired. By now it was nearing two in afternoon and our stomachs were growling with hunger. It was time for a pit stop. Ashutosh set a route which had quite a few twists and turns. We crested a hill, rolled down a bit and arrived to this.  Parked at Mishmi Hills We were at Mishmi Hills! It was like arriving at heaven!! And heaven has a thatched roof!!! I wont even bother attempting to describe heaven in words. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.     And tucked away in the corner, this!  Gazebo in heaven A gazebo! And it was placed at the perfect corner! Rolling lawns on one side. And the expanse of the Eze river down below. Doesn't seem much now. But notice where the vegetation line ends and the stones start? We were told, the Eze frequently overflows above that line! Contrary to it's name, the Eze is not easy! This is awesome! Let's go down! I think not. Going down means coming up later. No thanks. I feel the view is just perfect from up here! Heh! I think you have become old! Sure! I have seen more monsoons than you. And that's why I know all the important stuff. Like when you go down, you need to come up later. No! I think you have become old and you are trying to peddle some nonsense to justify it. Let's agree to disagree Padawan! I will watch your progress with considerable interest. From up here! And thus we parted ways on these cordial terms. Some people never learn. The key to success is to work smart. Not work hard! I lounged under the gazebo. I lay on my back, sending smoke signals up to the heavens. I could hear no other sound except the river water gurgling over the rocks down below. A couple of butterflies frolicked around daintily. I watched them with interest. What made them tick? What made them decide, to perch on that particular flower? What made me tick? What made me decide, to come to this beautiful place, tucked away in the remotest North Eastern corner of India? Decidedly, we had a lot in common with the butterflies! There was something magical going on here at this place! There was more to it, than met the eye!! There was some connection! I wondered how I would look if I dressed up in all those fabulous colours like that butterfly! In the end, I had been proven right. Smart work had paid off! Inspite of being rooted to one spot, I still got to know, not only how the river looked but also how it sounded up close! I had missed, absolutely nothing at all! Eze peasy! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roing! The last major town at the north easternmost corner of Arunachal Pradesh, the north easternmost state of India! Arunachal literally means the land of the dawn lit mountains. When the sun rises, it sees Arunachal first, before all the states in India. And inside Arunachal, it sees Roing first. At least in summer. It had taken ten days on the road for us to reach here. Roing was the last stop on our journey, before we would turn back. That day, as we sat chatting away at Mishmi hills, it was a poignant moment for us. We were elated, we had successfully made it till here. Moron bikers, unmarked speed breakers, highway barricades absolutely zero reflectors, corrupt cops, bad roads, wild elephants. We had survived it all. All those hours of driving, wrong routes, heart breaks, scares and disappointments had totally been worth it. Now that we were here, none of those things mattered. But this was it. We would go no further. We had reached our point of return. We humans are an interesting species. Ask a bunch of people, who have been through exactly the same experience, and they will have different perceptions about it. It's just as well I suppose. Imagine if all of us were like me, nobody would have gone down (and came up) with the video of the Eze!!! This varying perception is what makes us all so interesting I suppose. Sitting under the gazebo at Mishmi, we went around with the camera, and we documented our thoughts and impressions. [center]Chandrabhushan spoke about self improvement. Ashutosh talked about a better tomorrow. Different folks. Different strokes. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Going by city standards, Roing might be a small town (population 11,389 as per 2011 census), but it is a very important town. It is the district headquarters of the Lower Dibang Valley We spent a couple of days camped at Roing, doing absolutely nothing at all. Well not really. Almost. More on what we actually did there in the next episode. But what is there to do in Roing actually? Plenty. There is something for everyone in Roing. Travel 56 KM from Roing, and you reach the Mayodia Pass located at the Indo China border.  What's this? Lake Geneva?  Not happy with the shoreline? Forest not exciting enough for you? No problem! Here is Mehao Lake! Check out the mountains in the background.  Important! If you are going to hike, do check with the local authorities first. For your own safety! This sanctuary not only attracts humans, but it is a popular destination for other species as well. Including leopards, jackals and even tigers! Check out detailed information here Are you that adrenaline junkie type of adventurous person? Does rafting, climbing rocks and jumping over cliffs get you excited? Then you should head to Nijomaghat, situated only 15 KM away from Roing. All these places are quite near to Roing. What about those who want to travel far? Even travel back in time perhaps? You can do both actually. Travel 30 KM from Roing to go back in time to the 8th century CE! Bhismaknagar Fort! This fort was built from burnt bricks. Like this one.  Note: All historic places like this fort are a legacy of our ancestors. Each and everyone of us is duty bound to preserve it for future generations. Please be very careful in such places, lest you inadvertently destroy part of that legacy, which be lost to us forever. And yes. Do not litter. Carry your trash back with you, and dispose if off properly. Another note: Besides being a historic monument, this fort is also a sacred heritage destination to the local populace. Please be aware of and respect this fact. Do not do anything there, which you will not do in front of your own parents. All this is fine. But how do you get there? Well, we drove there didn't we? So that's one. Road connectivity. Or you can travel by train. The nearest station Dhangiri, is approximately 60 KM away. Or you can fly in. "Nearest" airports are
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We finished a leisurely lunch. Then we made it back to our hotel and took a nice nap! Ashutosh had asked the hotel to arrange for a bonfire at night. By the time we finished our siesta it was almost dark already! We had forgotten, the sun rises (and also sets) early in the North East. As a norm, people are up at 4 AM, busy preparing for their day!!! The bonfire was lit and we gathered around it. We were in high spirits. Soon a vehicle pulled up in the parking lot. Shaved head shining, muscles rippling, a dude stepped out. I couldn't see his face clearly in the dark. He spotted us and started walking towards our bonfire! Ashutosh had no problem recognising him. Hey Paul! How are you? You made it! Hi guys! Yes, I'm finally here! Welcome to Roing! Roing was truly heaven!!! Coming up next: Day twelve; Punekars at Parshuramkund Last edited by navin : 29th January 2020 at 16:45. Reason: Rule #11 - removed mention of Apong |
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12th November 2018, 17:34
| #15 |
| BHPian Join Date: Jan 2015 Location: Pune
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| Day 12. Still not going away from Roing. Punekars at Parshuram Kund “All roads lead to Trantor, and that is where all stars end” - adrenaline trumps nicotine - standing in the footsteps of my great great great great great great great ancestor - fierce patriotism and an almost fatal communication gap - risking it on almost empty tanks  Almost all species on this earth can grasp the concept of time. Not only the obvious day and night but even longer spans. Like, when to migrate to warmer climates. Or when to relocate to avoid dying of thirst. Or when to mate. Some can “count” even longer intervals. Many bamboo species take as much as 65 years to flower. Some even wait 120 years! Talk about patience!! The human species, of course, is no different. We too can count time. However, we stand out with one major difference. We can subdivide or amplify any time interval. We have well-defined rules to determine the co-relation of a macro interval with multiple micro intervals. We Indians have a rich heritage of timekeeping. Since time immemorial, we can count from त्रुटि (Truti ≈ 0.031 µs) to a ब्रह्म वर्ष (Brahma Varsha = 3,110,400,000,000 solar years). Not only did our ancestors teach us how to count time, but also how to organise it. They invented the Panchang. And to ensure this knowledge lasted through the ages, they put specific markers on the Panchang. Today we know these markers as festivals. Almost all Indian festivals, coincide with some agriculture event. Time to reap. Time to sow. Time to fast and rest. Time. The only infinite thing in this universe. The Indian Panchang is Lunar based. That’s why we don’t use the concept of day (which indicates the sun), but tithi (whose base unit is the phase of the moon). Except one day. Makar Sankrant. The day the sun transits into the Makar Rashi and the succeeding days start to get longer. Every Makar Sankrant, an estimated 70,000 devotees from all over India and even Nepal, converge at one place in Arunachal Pradesh, Parshuram Kund, with the belief, that a dip in the Holy Kund washes away the sins of a lifetime.  Rainy morning at Roing We woke up that day in Roing, to a cold bleak morning. It had rained sometime last night and a sharp chill was still in the air. The clouds had descended down, almost covering the mountains, and outside I could hear an intermittent drizzle. I hesitated to get out of bed. Suddenly I felt the weight of all the clouds on my chest. My brain was foggy and numb. I lit a cigarette trying to figure out what was wrong with me. A few drags on the cancer stick. The nicotine assimilated into my blood stream and cruised through my veins. My heart pumped it vigorously forward, till it reached my brain. My brain screamed in outrage. I was finally, fully awake. And I started to remember things. Good night Bhau, sleep well! Tomorrow we go to meet your ancestor! Ashutosh’s last words yesterday, resonated in my head! It all came back now. And I didn’t like it. Lord Parshuram, besides being the sixth avatar of Lord Vishnu, is also the mool purush (original ancestor) of the Chitpavan Kokanastha Brahmins of Maharashtra. He shot an arrow into the sea and reclaimed the land. The receding sea exposed fourteen bodies. Lord Parshuram, brought them all back to life using a pyre. Thus Chit (pyre) pavan (purified). Chitpavan. After reviving them, he told them to settle in the newly created land, live long and prosper. The reincarnated fourteen formed the basis of the 14 Gotras of Chitpavan Brahmins. Today, we know this reclaimed land as Aparant (literally West End) or more popularly, Konkan. Though I am a born Punekar, we Godboles originally hail from Konkan. I am a Chitpavan Brahmin by birth. Theologically speaking, I am a living descendant of Lord Parshuram. Tomorrow we should go to Parshuram Kund. Parshuram as in Lord Parshuram? He is my mool purush! Do you know he is Chiranjeev (immortal)? Yup! So if he sees you, what would he think of you? Smoker. And look at your belly. But why should I worry? I mean it’s not as if anyone has seen Him. Absence of proof is not proof of absence. Considering He is Chiranjeev, statistically speaking, there is a 50% chance you will come across Him. Then what? Damn that Ashutosh and his love for numbers. I could find no fault in his number logic. That's when I started to get a bit worried. I mean I could always justify my smoking with Lord Mahadev likes to take once a while, or my belly with a hearty Ganpati Bappa Morya, but I doubted He would see any divine qualities in me! And most importantly, what if He gets angry? After all His temper was proverbial!!  Lord Parshuram My quandary must have reflected on my face, and Ashutosh continued to needle me on. I even faintly remember him, cackling with glee once. He went on for quite some time. Eventually he wrapped up the night with a sinister Good night Bhau, sleep well! Tomorrow we go to meet your ancestor! And here I was the next morning, sitting in bed, smoking. And remembering! Eventually I dragged myself out of bed. Procrastination would not solve anything. Usually, I am a man of action. And the time for action had arrived. A quick shower, a hearty breakfast, and we were ready to head out for the day. Usually we started off our mornings discussing route options and pinning down action items for the day.  And just look at that smirk on Ashutosh’s face! With friends like him, who needs enemies? By the time, I fired up the engine, the rain had eased off. But the chill in the air and the clouds in the sky continued to remind us, of possible rain anytime. Overall the weather was perfect enough for us to roll down our windows. The bracing fresh morning air was quite invigorating. Unfortunately, it did not last. Soon we had rain drops racing down the heavens, to hit us with full fury.   The heavens had opened up. The chill was in the air. The a/c was taking care of the condensation, but it had become too cold for comfort inside the car.  We pulled over at a small roadside stall for a tea break! People nowadays talk of Netflix and chill. Doesn’t even come close to steaming hot chai in the chill! Stomachs replenished with delicious tea, we moved on. Eventually we passed a place called Demwe. After some time, the rain petered out a bit. The road became snaky. We were fast approaching the mountains. A curve. A bend. And right in front of us, a chasm yawned. Not an inch of soil was visible on the other side. Only trees. Lots and lots of trees. On our left, we could see water rush down the mountainside and disappear beneath the bridge.  This was a sight so beautiful, that we just had to experience it. We pulled over. I switched off the engine. And inspite of the rolled up windows, we could still hear the water gurgling down the rocks. With a smile on our faces, we got down.  Us and them. And nobody else! If I struggle, and I do struggle, to find the most apt word to describe the situation, I would go with serene! Google said, we had arrived at the Dus Nallah Bridge. Looking down, we could see only two. Perhaps the others were hidden by the foliage. Perhaps the others appeared only in the monsoon season.  Whatever the reason, we didn't mind. Even the two streams were beautiful! The gurgling, gushing water, rushing over the rocks. The clouds swooping down, as if to kiss the mountain tops. A lone bird, rushing for shelter to the dense forest. And a very slight drizzle, sprinkling down on us from the heavens. We saw it all. We heard it all. We experienced it all. For the second day in a row, we had discovered a piece of heaven, in the mountains of Arunachal Pradesh! I am not a particularly religious person. But standing there, that day, I felt I was in the presence of God. Since childhood, I had always wondered why all the Rishis and Munis went to the Himalayas to meditate. That day, I finally learnt why. They went to the mountains so that they could be closer to God, and bask in His presence. On our end of the bridge, we saw this board. Etched on it, is a piece of the bridge history, now made illegible by the ravages of time. Maharaja......VSM (Vishisht Seva Medal)...AVSM (Ati Vishisht Seva Medal)...Director of...Roads That's all that's legible now. Later on, after a bit of googling and asking around, I think it is this gentleman.  Lt. Gen. Maharaj Singh.PVSM, AVSM Ex Director General Of Border Roads With a sense of regret, we moved on. The rain increased in ferocity. We were still climbing the mountains. As we went up, the clouds drew nearer and nearer to us. Eventually they seemed to have alighted on the road! We were literally driving through clouds! Visibility dropped drastically, and so did our speed! At the initial stages of the expedition, our navigation device had totally messed up our journey multiple times. Since then, we had tried out several things and eventually settled on a system which worked for us. Google maps, voice navigation, on Ashutosh's phone. One of his dual sims was the only one with range almost all over the north east. And voice navigation because he also needed his phone to conduct his business, check emails and even hunt and book hotels for us to sleep at. So here I was, driving happily through the clouds. It was a surreal feeling. Exhilarating and scary at the same time, because when you entered the cloud, visibility dropped to zero. On a mountainous road full of twists and turns. You never knew what might happen inside the cloud! Eyes on the road, ears tuned for verbal instructions from Google maps. In 5 meters, take a right! Ignore that! Take the left. I repeat, take the left. Huh? Dude! She said take the right. And I said, take the left. I needed to sort this out. I pulled over. I was not really keen on taking a U turn, in case we turned in the wrong direction. The road was too narrow for my comfort, and visibility was low. What's all this left right thing? I distinctly heard her say right. And I said left. Why? To the right, lies Parshuram Kund. To the left, glory. Gloria? Who the hell is Gloria? Face palm! Not Gloria! Glory! G.L.O.R.Y. Oh! Ok. Heh! Glory? What glory? To our left, lies the last motorable road in the North East, any civilian can drive on. We take this road, and we drive till the end. Beyond that, China! You are kidding me! Do I look like I am kidding? I looked into his eyes. He was not kidding. This was Glory indeed! The one with a capital G!! Imagine the bragging rights! We drove all the way from Pune to right till the edge of North East India!! And the best part? This road was not even visible on the map! We would be the first!! We would be the pioneers!!! I got a feeling, in case I met Lord Parshuram, he just might appreciate this! With a joyous heart, I took the left. Almost immediately, any semblance of a "road" vanished into the clouds. Undeterred, we crawled ahead. There was something magical about the rain today. It had rained in the morning. But it had eased off a bit, when we had approached the bridge near Demwe. When it was time for us to leave, it had resumed it's fury. Now, some time after we took the left, it eased off again! It was as if, someone was watching over us, ensuring, we had clear enough visibility to record the important parts!! So we decided to make the best of it. We decided to shoot this video. We were quite close now. The road took us through the rain and the clouds. Sometimes the obstacles in the road meant we had to move very close to the edge of the road. Dangerously close! And finally, we made it all the way to our Trantor. The road had ended.  It took us twelve days. We had travelled 4955 Km from Pune. And this is how it all ended. Not in some melodramatic way. Not with a mile stone or a board. But with a construction truck blocking our way. This was as far as we would go, and no further. This is what was going through our minds that time. We spent quite a few minutes there, letting the feeling sink in. It was a feeling of immense satisfaction. In our own small way, we had achieved something, which we felt very proud of. We might not have won a marathon, or a gold medal, but our joy was no less. People talk of living on the edge. We had driven to the edge, all the way from Pune. Mother nature seemed to agree with us. And she treated us with the most glorious vistas we had ever seen.    In this video, you can hear the thunder as well as the rain splattering down on the roof of the car! Last, but not the least, our official expedition navigator with his magic device, the Vivo v7+ With it's dual sim, it communicates. It exchanges data. It takes awesome pics and videos too! And to top it all, it has a fantastic battery life.  Sadly, it was time to go back. With the clouds and road conditions, it turned out to be not that simple, but eventually I managed to turn us around.  Parshuram Kund awaited us! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We travelled back, and arrived at the fork where we had taken the detour. There I set the wheels back on the tarmac, and we continued our way to Parshuram Kund. The road continued to take us snaking through the mountains. We were descending now, and the visibility was better. Many twists and turns later, we came to a bridge, spanning the mighty Lohit river!  We crossed over, and a sign board directed us towards the Kund. A few more turns and finally a wide flat ground, surrounded by trees. We had arrived at Parshuram Kund. Or so I thought! A few feet away I could see a temple. That's the Bhagwan Parshuram Mandir! The Kund is further away!! I wondered why Ashutosh's voice was so full of glee as he said this. Then in the next instant, I realised why. The steps! There were steps leading to the Kund! And the steps led up the mountain! Oh the horror! I am not the one to shy away from a challenge. This one was no different. The gauntlet had been thrown. I rose to the occasion. There would be no other way to it. It was a matter of honour now. And so we started to ascend. One step after the other. Look down. Time your breathing with your footsteps. Rhythm is everything. I knew all the theory. But there was a slight problem. This theory works, only if the steps are even. At Parshuram Kund, every step is of a different height. Not just that, even the width of the step is different. Quite a many steps are even as high as your knee! With every laboured step, my breath grew shorter and shorter. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I started to sweat profusely! Every cigarette I ever smoked in my life, came back to haunt me. Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps. I kept telling myself. After what seemed like a life time, I crested the hill. And I saw steps leading down! Down! That means up, while coming back! Yes down you idiot! What else did you expect? You are going to the Kund. Kund means water. The river is down below. The water is down below! Obviously the Kund is down below! What did you expect? A waterfall cascading down the mountains? So I laboured on. Down the hill I went. Oops! Fooled ya! No Kund here! Only one more hill! By now I had the wind knocked out of me. I bent down panting, resting my hands on the railing. Sweat from my forehead was dripping down between my feet. My vision started to darken. A few minutes later, I gazed up.  And I saw Ashutosh and Chandrabhushan above me. Their faces were stoic. But even in my condition, I could see it was a mask. I am positive, I saw glee in their eyes! And suddenly rage consumed me! I will not! I repeat, I will not lose face! My brain agreed! It sent a message to my adrenal glands, which jumped into action immediately! In an instant I had a massive shot of adrenaline cruising through my veins! My leg muscles had turned to stone. I commanded them to contract. Miraculously, they obeyed! I raised my leg and took one step up. And one more. And more. After another eternity, I crested the peak. From here, I could see the steps, all the way down to the river bank. It was not over yet, but I was almost there. Well half of the way anyway. Eventually I hobbled my way down, one excruciating step after another and and reached the bottom of the steps. To this.  Are you kidding me? I walked all this way for this? Not even a proper Moorti? Are you kidding me? I felt like screaming this out. But I had no breath left in me to spare. I gave up and resigned to leaning myself on the railing. I was dizzy. I was tired. I was sweating like a pig. My legs felt like stone. I just didn't care anymore. I stood there panting. Slowly the pounding of my heart in the ears subsided. And I started to hear a new sound. Whooooooshhhh! It was the mighty Lohit. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I was observing a river up so close! The Lohit seemed to smile at me as it whizzed past furiously, bouncing over the rocks, oblivious to all obstacles in it's path. Slowly I began to calm down. This place was not without beauty, I admitted to myself. Eventually some strength came back and I was able to stand on my own and I gazed at the surroundings, awestruck by its ferocious wild beauty. This was mother nature in her crudest, yet beautiful form. This is what they must mean when they said untamed... What the hell is that? And then, I saw the most repulsive site ever, probably in my whole life. Lying there, a few feet away from the saffron painted stone and agarbattis, was a pile of sodden underwear! I am not a particularly religious person. But my stomach churned at the sight. Who the hell goes to a Holy place and leaves behind, used underwear? How low, stupid and disgusting do you need to be to do such a thing? All I could do, was look at the disgusting pile in shock and anger! The Darshan of the Kund had been a huge let down. Now this pile of filth. I no longer wished to stay there even for a moment longer. I started the laborious climb, back to the parking lot. Now I stopped even more frequently. I took longer breaks. Finally, Ashutosh became really concerned. He came back and asked if I was OK. I peered at him. Gone was the mirth from his eyes. I drew in laborious breaths. I am OK. Just give me some time. I mumbled No problem Bhau. You are dehydrated. Let me get you water. Don't! Not while I climb. After I am done. Will do! Take it easy! Yup! I smiled inwardly! The padawan had fallen for it, and rushed ahead to arrange for water. This would save me precious feet of agonised walking! The Jedi master still had a mind trick or two up his sleeve! In the end, it worked like clockwork. When I stumbled back to the parking lot, my lungs were screaming and my legs were stone. But I was smiling in triumph in my mind. On sheer willpower, I had managed to come back without losing face.  Speaking of faces, look at it! I look a sight! And that water bottle in my hand? That's how a Jedi mind trick looks like! Bwahahahahahaha! I did not meet Lord Parshuram that day. But I like to think, He had been watching my antics the whole time. And he approved. Because I didn't give up! On our way back, we stopped on the bridge to look back.  Parshuram Kund darshan from the bridge ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The whole day we had been running only on breakfast. Not surprisingly we were hungry. Very very hungry. On our way back, at a fork, we spotted a small roadside eatery. We pulled over. Hello Didi! Can we get some tea please? Sure. Would you like something to eat as well? You look tired! Absolutely! What can we have? Do you like Maggi? Totally! So we settled to wait for the food. Next door, few gentlemen were sitting. Seeing our car pull up, they strolled over and got chatting with us. On asking, we were informed, the closest petrol pump was located at Tezu. Yes, diesel too. I let out a huge sigh of relief. I had miscalculated in the morning and it meant we were very low on fuel. But the latest input was extremely encouraging. Tezu was just 30Km away from where we were. I relaxed and started digging into my Maggi. In the meanwhile, naturally, the conversation ran on expected lines. Who were we, and what were we doing here? So we told them. A civil and elaborate discussion followed. Just outside the eatery, we had noticed a board which said Hayuliang road. I had noticed, this board was painted in the typical military colour scheme. So most naturally, I asked them if civilians were allowed on this road. And pandemonium ensued. A gentleman, who had pulled over some time back and joined the conversation, took special affront to this. What do you mean, are we allowed? We are Indian citizens. How dare you question our patriotism? I don't like people like you, outsiders, who come here and ask us if we love our motherland. You can go back and tell everyone, that we in Arunachal Pradesh are just as Indian as everyone else! Boy! We were absolutely taken aback! I tried to explain in multiple ways what I had actually meant. Some areas, typical military installations, have restricted access for civilians. All we were trying to find out, if this was the case here, only because the signpost was in typical military fashion. Unfortunately, we couldn't get through to the gentleman. Finally, we signalled each other with our eyes, settled the bill, apologised multiple times, and beat a hasty retreat. We felt, the gentleman was on the verge of brandishing a Kukri or something, and we needed to be far far away from him! He did not look well. Perhaps he was just playing a Jedi mind trick. Whatever it was, we didn't wait to find out. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fuel topped up at Tezu, we eventually reached Roing, where the last adventure of the day awaited us. Ashutosh's family had been trying since morning, to reach out to him. It was twelve days, Ashutosh had been away from home, and someone was missing him desperately. So much that he even refused to eat his food, and had been sulking and moping for a long long time. Finally, Ashutosh had to make a video call and coax him to eat something, with a promise he would return soon.   Finally, Murphy ate his dinner! And so did we, discussing Murphy and how loveable he was, and how pets were the best. The talk drifted on to all the pets we had ever had in our lifetimes. In the end, we were unanimous on one thing. It is only the dog, who is genuinely happy to see you come back, whatever the time. After all, all of us were married men! Coming up next: Day thirteen; Roing to Dibrugarh. Last edited by Aditya : 29th January 2020 at 17:24. Reason: Rule #11 |
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