ONE AFTERNOON IN THE LONELY HILLS

ONE AFTERNOON IN THE LONELY HILLS

The flight from kolkata to
Silchar was delayed. We
waited and waited. Then, instead of the usual Boeing 737 which mercifully disappears way above the
clouds for a short supersonic ride , they provided a low flying old fokker-friendship plane . We flew leisurely over Bangladesh and, down below, I could see the roads, the rivers and even big and small vehicles on glistening ribbons of roads !

While waiting at the Kolkata airport I came across a very friendly police officer whom I will refer to as Mr.B. He was also going to Silchar. As he was a Delhi based warm-hearted  punjabi gentleman , we instantly bonded as I was also a Delhiwalla. We got into chatting. I told him that as part of a management lecture-tour I would proceed from silchar to the capital of one of north-east states.

"well you are in luck as I am posted there and I have a car for the long journey over the hills. You will travel with me in my car". I gratefully  agreed.

But at Silchar I found that the Director of the Institute had sent his car all the way to silchar for me and I felt that it would be highly discourteous of me if I didn't use it. Mr.B agreed with me.

"what we will do is that your car keeps right behind mine for the entire eight-hour journey. You will need to eat something on the way and I have arrangement for that".

There was lately some law and order problems on this route. His company assured security.

The driver of my comfortable small car was a cheerful young fellow but we had the language problem !

We kept right behind mr. B's big black shining car for some fifteen minutes and I relaxed and opened a newspaper.

Suddenly my driver took a left turn and the speeding black car vanished along the straight road. We were
heading elsewhere. I asked the driver to turn back and follow the black car. He said something which I could not follow. We talked in different languages ! And he kept moving on this new route!

After ten minutes of drive we arrived at a beautiful sprawling bungalow. There was a riot of colours in  the well maintained lawn with flowers in full bloom. The car negotiated a curving driveway and came to a stop under a portico. An elderly gentleman came out on hearing the crunching of gravel in the driveway. He greeted me. And he mercifully addressed me in english. The driver told him something in a language I did not know.

"I am sorry you were upset with change of route" he said, "actually we had arranged a breakfast for you here before your long journey".

The breakfast was excellent and it was only after I had started eating that I realised how hungry I was. I had only had a cup of coffee so far and now it was close to nine in the morning.

Then we embarked upon our journey.The next four hours of journey was
eventless and through woods that were lovely dark and deep. I recalled Robert Frost's famous poem. He was riding a horse and I was riding a car !

I had nobody to  talk to. Longing for some tea and snacks I kept looking out for a roadside tea shop. There were none that I would have liked to stop at.

It was around one o'clock now. The car was negotiating a steep road in lower gear with the engine howling. Then a sharp right turn and the road levelled for a one mile long straight road ! The car picked up speed.

Far ahead of us I spotted some people standing right in the middle of the road. Perhaps they were road-repair crew so common after the monsoon. As we came close I saw them - eight gun-totting men in some kind of a uniform I was unfamiliar with. They were agitated and ordered the driver to come out of the car when  the car stopped. The driver was now explaining something and pointedly gesticulating towards me.

For endless moments they talked. Something was wrong! Who were they ? I just sat there in the car and waited for their next move. I was definitely worried.

Now their leader moved towards me and opened the side door where I was seated. He motioned me to come out and follow him up a flight of steep steps on the hill across the road. I was now very scared. I had to step out and follow him.

We crossed the road and climbed a flight of steps. The others brought up the rear. Here I found a small house, well hidden from the road. He pushed open a door and gestured me to move in !!

A tough tall youthful man with a thoughtful expression on his face was seated behind a big office-table in this room reading something. As I entered, he suddenly got up and moved towards me with the agility of a leopard.

And as I braced myself for something unpleasant, an anti-climax happened ! He smiled and extended his hand for a handshake !
"Welcome dear sir! I am the officer in-charge here. Mr.B was very much worried when he found your car missing. He waited here for a while and then left, with instructions that you should be stopped and given some tiffin before you proceed further. From here onwards there are no way-side tea and snacks shops and it is still a long journey.

I explained to him why I could not follow mr. B.  He nodded in approval.

" yes, it was very thoughtful of them to arrange a breakfast for you".

Then he called someone to bring my lunch. I had a hearty meal ! And then he joined me for a cup of hot darjeeling tea !

The rest of the journey was eventless. I arrived in time in the big and enchanting state capital. I immediately proceeded to the house of mr. B to thank him for arranging that hearty lunch for me. And he further loaded me with a great punjabi dish of Chhole bhature !

Thus ended a memorable trip  through the lonely hills in the enchanting north east India.