In the rat race of daily life, one struts and frets to win but remains just a rat at the end of the day! Often we play deaf to the callings of our innocuous childlike desires to simply dance to the beats of nature. While most of the consummate metropolitans are sweating it out, the easy going “Scotland of the East,” plays hide and seek with lots of rain and a little bit of sun. Away from concrete sky-scrapers and mundane malls, Shillong is nestled in the abode of clouds, Meghalaya, where the weather changes like the colorful canvas of an adolescent’s moods. Undulating pine trees, lush green hills, cascading waterfalls, meandering rivers and home to a myriad cultures, Shillong cradles you in love.
Enroute to Shillong, is the man-made, Umiam Lake playing host to a variety of water sports, the Lum Nehru Park, a beautiful resort and a hydroelectric power dam. Guwahati to Shillong is a three hour drive through zigzag roads. A bumpy ride that ceases to be uncomfortable once the lake comes into my view. I instinctively lower the windows of the car and pop my head out to feel the zephyr blowing with a taste of slight drizzle on my face. Instantly, I let go of my baggage of worries and take in the vast lake spread out in front of me. I look at my watch and shuffle my feet in anticipation as Shillong is just an hour away.
Travelling through the winding roads of Shillong to unwind from the city life, this is a tale of Shillong narrated by a Shillongite. A day spent in the company of just the two of us. As soon as the car comes to a halt, I step out of my excitement to actually live it.
Having travelled all morning, I decide to first silence the hunger bells ringing within me. I take a black and yellow cab to Laitumkhrah and on the way tribal faces smiling through tobacco stained teeth, their broken “bazari” Hindi, Assam style houses, and clean roads greet me. I pay ten rupees to the cab driver and walk along the footpath as I stumble upon a local fast-food hub called “Munchies.” Young crowd, mouth-watering aroma of spices and Bob Dylan’s voice playing upstairs, lure me in. Also known as the “Rock Capital of India,” Shillong’s culture is reminiscent of the Imperial rule. From Bob Marley to Dave Mustaine, music bands like Eagles to Metallica, from classic country songs of Kenny Rogers to various Christmas carols, you can hear them all playing on the local radio channels, all day long. Inspired from the rock culture, Shillong has its own musicians like Lou Majaw, an amicable Khasi guitarist who is an ardent fan of Bob Dylan.
No sooner do I grab a table, I find myself “knocking on Heaven’s doors” as I browse through the menu. Happy to see the nominal prices and not sure what to order, I glance around and see a boy gorging on a plate of Maggie like there’s no tomorrow! I order the same along with a glass of Tang juice. Satisfied with my delicious breakfast, I venture out to simply walk through the green fields and the alpine roads as Shillong is a small town and an ideal way to commute is on foot. As the day wears on, I open my umbrella shading away from the sun shining bright.
Christianity being the religion followed by the Khasi tribe, I stop by the grand Cathedral in Dhankheti. A matrilineal society, the mother is the head of the house among the Khasis. Shillong is home to people belonging to diverse cultures, significantly, like the Assamese, Bengali, Nepali, Sikh, Sindhi minorities. Be it a Hindu, Muslim or Christian, they celebrate all the festivals with equal zeal. As a matter of fact, Asia’s first glass mosque, Madina Masjid, has been built in Shillong.
Half-an-hour of brisk walking hence, I reach Police Bazaar, the popular shopping area.It is a busy market with shops and restaurants skirting the hilly roads. My train of thoughts about the diversity that defines Shillong is interrupted by shops selling handicrafts made of jute. Delicate delights as the handicrafts are, the prices have a wide range allowing most customers to return happy. Apart from the regular shops, selling colorful garments, mainly the “Jainsem” and the “Jymphong,” the traditional female and male attires, bags et al, the crowded pedestrians accommodate little tables, where the kongs (lady vendors) sell the local seasonal sour fruit, the “Soh Phi” and the “kwai” or the packets containing the betel leaf, areca nut and lime. “Even in Heaven, Gods eat Kwai,” goes an infamous Khasi saying. As a demonstration of hospitality and tradition, the Khasis offer “kwai” to their guests.
Chewing the betel leaf, I wander off to the Tibetan market along the long, winding road of Police Bazaar which has multiple shops, heavily stocked with the most fashionable clothes. The items have no fixed price, and thus, all the customers engage in long negotiations, rendering the cluster of shops overcrowded and noisy. Feeling suffocated, I rush out of the building to witness a dramatic change in the weather. The sun, which was playing peek-a-boo all this while, is nowhere to be seen as dark clouds threateningly hover above. I quickly remember that I am in the rainiest state on Earth, and therefore, I open my umbrella, again, and look for a restaurant to shelter away from the rain.
The local culinary preferences are mainly non-vegetarian. Beef, mutton, chicken, fresh fish or dried fish, you name it and we have it with specialties like the “Jadoh” and the “Tungrumbai” made from pork. The staple diet is rice. The tribe likes continental dishes more than fried ones. Bamboo shoot pickle is savored by them. Vendors standing by green-colored wooden structures selling paanipuri and aalu-muri, a local mouth-watering mixture made of boiled potatoes, puffed rice and other spices is a specialty. Almost every road in Shillong has a series of little tea stalls or “sha” and rice cakes to go with it. I select a Chinese restaurant called the “Kimpoo” and settle for a plate of Chicken Momos and a bowl of Wanton Soup, the very best I’ve ever tasted.
The scent of the wet soil fills my senses as I walk towards “Delhi Mistan Bhandar,” haven for those who have an overpowering sweet tooth. With all the rain, what better than a plate of hot Jalebis prepared right in front of your eyes? I dreamily munch on the Jalebis, order a plate of Gulab Jamuns and gorge on Besan Ladoos as I watch a football game between the Shillong Lajong Foolball Club and the Mohun Bagan in the television. Soccer is a like a second religion for the people of Shillong with Maradona, Pele, Zidane and the like being no lesser than Gods for them.
Having indulged in my guilty pleasures, I stutter out and it’s evening already. Shillong starts its day early and the people disperse to their homes soon after dusk. I already have a replenished spirit to show for conversing with the Shillongite that resides within me. However, one day is just not enough to experience the tranquility that Shillong has to offer and my vacation has only begun.
Knowing that my folks at home must have been back from their work by now, I return home. As it pours heavily outside, I pull the sheets over me and feel cradled in love.
Sangeeta Purkayastha
Image Source: The Viewspaper