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SHANGRILA ThisisthestoryofAssamValley,theeasternmostregion ofIndia,asitwasduringthe1930s. AmritBaruahtellsofgrowingupinanidyllicplacea remotelandofteaplantations,ancienttemples,andthe BrahmaputraRiver,perhapstheleastknownoftheseven longestriversoftheworld. AndhedescribeshowWorldWarIIopeneduptheisolat ed easternportionofthevalleytosoldiersfromoutside, followedbyconstructionofthelegendaryBurmaRoad. Today,sadly,AssamValleyhasacquiredsuchillsaspoliti calturmoilandeventerrorism.

Butitsvanishedpastand uniquecharacter, andpromiseforthefuture,comealive inthisbriefbut evocativememoir.

Copyright2008byAmritBaruah

Assam,India

ValleyofTeaandTemples

baruah@starpower.net AmritBaruahwasbornandraisedintheeasternpartof AssamValley,intheheartoftheteagrowingregion.He leftatthe ageofsixteentoattendPresidencyCollegein Calcutta(nowKolkata),wherehestayedonaftergradua tionforemploymentwithjuteindustrylaborersduring the lastfew daysof the BritishRajinIndia. In1952AmritleftforBoston,tostudyatBostonUniver sityandHarvard.HehasbeenintheU.S.sincethen,one of theearliestimmigrantsfromIndia.Hehasworkedin theeldsofmentalhealthandcommunityorganization (inprecivilrightseraSouthPhiladelphia),andhas taughtatuniversities.Currentlyheisaparttimewriter, psychotherapist,andorganizationconsultantlocatedin Maryland.

A PersonalStoryby

AmritBaruah

amritbaruah

TheDimPastBritishIndia1930s

Contents

TheDimPastBritishIndia1930s WorldWarIIComesHome RecentPastNewIndependentIndia UniquenessofAssamValley Temples LifeTodayTheNewMillennium Tapestries

1 13 24 25 29 31 32

CheuniAliwasanimportantroadofthatvalley.Mostly, itjustlaytherewithitsdustysurface.Afterarain,itwould turntomud.Occasionally,abullockcartwouldpassonit carryingafamilyorhay.Onspecialhut (fair)days,asmall crowd would traverse it carrying baskets on their heads. Thentherewouldbethetwohangingbasketssupportedby a rodacrosstheirbacks.Thesecontainedvegetables,eggs, bananas,orpigeonsthatwouldlatermakethe puro curry which was a delicacy unique to the valley. From time to time,acarwouldpass,eitherablackFordoracreamcol oredChevrolet,thetwocarsthatwereusuallyseeninthose days.Iftheroadwasmuddy,thenthecartyreswouldhave chains. If there was a heavy rain, plastic windows were hookedontothecardoors. Although cars rarely traveled on the road, there were bicycles. Either the PWD clerk or the fat Daroga would comealongonabike.TheDarogawasajuniorpoliceof cialandhewasalwaysfat,dressedinkhakiwithaleather beltacrosshischest.RarelywouldoneseeaDarogawho wasthinorwhosmiled.Justasrarelywouldoneseeachild thatwasfatorwhodidnotsmile. Sometimesaclerkcalledmohori wouldwalkontheroad carryinganaluminumtifn carrierwithitsfourcompart mentsthathadbeenlledthatmorningbyhiswifeone for rice,one fordal(lentils),oneforshcurryandthelast for a vegetabledishcalled dulna. Unliketheformidablehighways,freeways,andbeltways ofAmericathatmakeadeliberateattempttobypasshuman habitations,CheuniAliwentrightthroughthedailylives and dramasofvillagepeople.Riceeldswiththatnecessary stagnantwaterwereonlytenfeetaway;thefamilypondof thevillagerwasonlysomeyardsfromtheroad. Distinctfromotherpartsofthatvastcountry,thefami 1

assam,india lypondinthisvalleywasplacedrightinfrontofthehouse. Itwasasthoughtoassuretheguestthat,duringhisvisit, heissuretogetafreshshamagur,akaoi,abaraliand ifheislucky,maybeapabho. Cheuni Ali was a witness to a variety of daily scenes. Maybe someone taking a bath in his pond, rubbing his bodywiththeshellofagourd(bhol)thesameshellthat is today a luxury item in American bathrooms, with the fashionable name earth therapeutic; or maybe someone stoppingattheroadsidestandtobuyabidi(anativeciga retteofsimplerolledtobacco).Hemaynothavehadthe extratwopaysastobuyamatchboxbutitdidnotmatter. Hecanlighthisbidiatthelightedendofaropethathangs onthesideofthatshopashopthathasonitstopablue metalsignsayinginthelocallanguageGoodteaisavail ablehere.Sometimesariceplantingwomanwouldstraight en herbacktolookcuriouslyattheonlypassingcarofthe day. These were the scenes during the day. The evening broughtothers.Eveningarrivedintheruralvalleydiffer entlyfrom eveningsinAmerica.Here,theyarrivewiththeir ownbusylengthyagendas.InthevillagesaroundCheuni Ali,theeveninghadonlyoneagendaasilentnight. The mosquitoes would come out but also the reies. Sometimesthechildrenwouldcatchsomeofthesebright dancingdots.Oneofthechildrenwouldcollectafewand holdthemsecurelyinhisst,whileanotherwouldholdthe stemof the papayatree(amita),shutting one end withhis hand.Therstchildthenverycarefullyemptieshisstof reiesintothetransparentstemofthepapaya,immedi atelyshuttingthe otherend withhishand.Thusappeared theearlynativeuorescenttubelight. Therewereotherscenesthatcamewiththeevening.In somehouses,someonewouldblowontheconchshellfor religious reasons; the dhuna (burnt smoke from crystals) woulddriveoutthemosquitoes.Itssmellwasmuchmore appealingthanthesmelloftheFlitmosquitosprayusedby somemodernpeopleintown.Insomehouses,asmallearth 2

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lamplledwithmustardoilwithaliqueedwickdipped initwouldbeplacedinfrontofaplantconsideredauspi cioustheTulasiplant.Onsomemornings,thewifewould lightasimilarlamp(saki) ifheranxioushusbandwasgoing totownorimportantbusiness.Thelightedlampwassup posedtoprotecthim. Butoverwhelmingallofthescenesofthevalleydayor nightexplodingwithsongsanddances,weretwoBihu festivalsthatwereheldinthevalleyeveryyear.Thesewere joyousoccasions,pastoral,socialbeyondallreligiousoreth nicconsiderations. Duringeachofthefourseasons,lifeandscenesaround CheuniAlichanged.ButtheoldmanroadCheuniAli,the road for all seasonsknowing all and seeing all (the tall AhottreeandthetinyManimuniplant,theelephantand theant);sharingtheonefabricoflifekeptmovingatits ownpace,neitherhurriednorslow.Itkeptgoingeastand farthereastthroughthesilentgoodearthofthatvalleyin theearly1930suntilitranoutofmilesandlostitselfinthe denseteakwoodsofBorma,asBurma(nowMyanmar) wasthencalled by the localpeople. ButBormatothepeopleofthevalleywasnotsomuch a placeasanidea.Noonehadgonetheredenseforests madethatimpossible.Itwasnotaborderthatonecould justwalkover.TheonlytimethatBormabecamereal, and then in a frightening way, was when people talked aboutthe muun. Thesewerehordesofattackerswhohad poured into the valley from Burma two centuries earlier and whohadsavagedthevalleyinamannerreminiscentof Genghis Khan. Otherwise Burma just quietly remained inside the geographybook,ruled bytheBritishandnotter rorizedbyathuggishmilitaryjuntaasisthecasetoday. ThisvalleyofwhichCheuniAliwasthebackbonewas theAssamValley,namedaftertheeasternmoststate(then called a province) of the vast undivided subcontinent of BritishIndia. AssamValleywassoremotefromtherestoftheworld, and even from the rest of India, that it was never in the 3

assam,india news.Theworldjustdidnotpassitby;mostofthetime the world even did not know that it existed because the worldisonlyawareofplacesthatmakenoise.AndAssam Valleywasasilentvalley. Andithadtobetreatedcarefully.ThelegendaryIndian Railwaysthelongestrailwaylineintheworldshrunk intonarrowgaugetoenterthevalleyandeventhenaftera while,itwasinterruptedifitwantedtoenterdeepinside thevalley. Itwasinterruptedbytheleastknownofthesevenlongest rivers in the world (least known even today): the river Brahmaputra.Passengerswouldgetoffthetrain,crossthe riverinasteamer,andthenpickupanothernarrowgauge trainontheotherbank. ThatiswhereproperCheuniAlistarted.Asitproceed edeastward,CheuniAliwouldpasslongstretchesofgreen shrubs.Theseshrubsweresocarefullytrimmedthatfrom a distancewhenthesunshoneonthem,theylookedlikea greeneld.Andintheseeldshereandthereweresariclad womentheblueone,theredone,andtheyellowone. These were the female workers, with wicker baskets strappedaroundtheirheads.Theywouldpicktheleaves fromthosegreenshrubsandputtheminsidethatbasket preferablytwoleavesandabud. Duringthelastonehundredyears,whereverpeoplehave gatheredforawarmsocialoccasion,thehot,blackliquid thatmadethegatheringpossibletheelixircalledAssam teacouldbeultimatelytraced backtothosewickerbas ketson thebacksofthosewomeninblue,purple,yellow saris. In Jorhat,the maintownofthisregion,Iwasbornabout fourinthemorningontherstdayofspringin1924. Mymotherhadtalkedaboutthenursewhowaspresent in her bedroom when I was born. The nurse was from southernIndia;andthatwasenoughformetoknowI couldenvisionherclothes,color,smile,andwalk.Inthe vast subcontinent of India, with its supposed chaos and confusion,onesnativelocationdetermines,inactualfactor 4

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inonesimpressions,howonewouldeat,talk,dress,cele brate,ormourn. And so I envisioned this nurse dressed in a white sari withanorangeborder,herfaceofbold,darkcolortopped bylongblackhairwitharedhibiscusowertuckedonthe leftside.Isawherearnesteyesanddazzlingwhiteteethand heardherlaughterthatlledmymothersbedroomonceI wasborn.Herhands,thersthands,heldmeupintheair. At the same time, she must have shouted those words, whicharetriumphantonesinthatboyexaltingIndiancul ture:Itisaboy. Someyearsafterthatnight,Iwasimpressedbythelong roadthatthisnursehadtakentogettoourtownandtraced herrouteinmymind. She left her town and somehow arrived in the city of Madras;thereinthetrainstation,shehurriedlyfollowed theporterwhocarriedherbedrollandsuitcaseonhishead whileshewalkedshybutfocusedwithanaluminumtifn carrier in one hand and a ask of tea in the other. After twentyfourhours,thetrainreachedCalcutta.Shegotout and repeated the activityof followingaporter,whosettled hereitherinahackneycarriageorarickshaw.Inthiscon veyance,shewentthroughthebigcityonHarrisonRoad, throughthegoldmerchantsarea,andtookatrainforthe eastontheothersideofCalcuttainSealdahstation.She changedtoanarrowgaugetrainaftertenhoursandhead edtowardsmyAssamValley.Afteranothereighteenhours, she arrived inourhometownof Jorhat.Ifshehadgoneon for anothersevenhours,shewouldhaveleftIndia. By the time thenursearrivedinourhometown,shehad beentravelingnonstopfor almostthreedays.Thiswasin theearly1920sandshemusthavetraveledalone,perhaps theonlywomansotravelingalongtheentireroute. I wasintriguedbythefactthatshewasnotinourtown asapart of a Christianmission,althoughthatwasherreli gion.Sherepresentednoorganization.Mymotherhadalso saidthatshehadnofriendorrelativeinthattown.Iwas intriguedwonderingwhathadbroughttomytownthose 5

assam,india handsthatheldmesosoftlyasIarrivedonthisearth. Muchlater,asIbecameawareofthedifferentwaysin whichsomepeoplerunawayfromhurts,heartbreaks,and cruelties,Iaskedmyselfifthisnursewasdoingthesame.I feltdeprivedthatInevermether.Mymotherendedher story by saying that the nurse suddenly died. She was buriedintheone,smallChristiancemeteryinthattown.I heardthatthenursesdogusedtovisithergraveandsit thereforhours.Ihadwonderedwhathadhappenedtothat lostdog. Notallofmymothersbreakfaststoriesweresadlikethis one.Occasionally,shetalkedaboutherdreamsofthepre viousnight,whichsherememberedvividly.AsIlookback onourchildhoodwithourmother,Irecallthatdreamsand thedreamworldwereasteadypartofourconversations. Sometimes, mother would get up to go to the garden while we patiently waited for the next story. She would returnwithsomefragrant,whitekharikajaiowers,which shewouldputinhercupofhottea.Wethreethensmelled her tea, which had the fragrance of the owers. In that uniquewayof children,althoughtheywouldndtheright wordstodescribeitonlyyearslater,wefeltthatourmoth er, Kanchan Lata Baruah, similarly spread her fragrance throughoutourlives.Anditwassoftlikethefragranceof thewhitekharikajaiowersandnotoverpoweringlikethe smelloftheyellowketekiowerinsidethefoldsofclothes. Wheredidmyfathertintothismagicalworldofwhite kharikajaiowers?My fatherlived a lifeof discipline and decorum.Werespectedandlovedhimbutinadifferent way. With our father, we smiled. With our mother we laughed.He got upat5:30inthe morningwhenthebut lerbroughtatrayof teaandHuntleyPalmerbiscuits.My fatherthenmixedhistea.By6:30heisinhishomeofce. This was the room where we children seldom went. We were notforbiddentoenteritbutitwasaforbiddingroom. Rows of leatherbound law books, black teakwood table withmatchingchairs,everypen,everypencilinitsallotted place,thecasesforthedayonthetable,andwithrowsof 6

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les on another side table all standing in a straight line alphabeticallyarranged.Order,system,andrules. At7:00BaradaBabuwouldarrive.Hewasoneofthetwo stenographers in town (the other being assigned to the BritishDeputyCommissioner).At9:00fatherwouldhave his bath, then sit down for the morning meal. That was whenmymotherwouldjoinhimnotforthemealbutfor conversation.Thiswasfollowedbyhimgettingdressedin courtroomattire.At10:30,thedriverbroughtthecar,stop pingnearthefrontstepsandholdingthereardooropen. Myfatherwalkedin,thedoorclosed,andthecarproceed edtowardsthecourthouse. Usually around that time, four Gurkha soldiers in starchedkhakiuniformswouldbeescortingtheprisonersof thedayfromtheBarbhetajailaboutvemilesaway.When theypassedmyfatherscar,theywouldabruptlyturnright andshoutinunisonEyesright!Ourdrivertoldusthat whenthecarstoppedinfrontofthecourthouse,arelayof Assamesewordswouldpassfrommouthtomouth:Ahiley Ahiley (he hasjustarrived). WhenIwasinhighschool,Ihadheard fromnumerous peoplethatmyfatherwasrespectedalloverthevalley.His nameIswarPrasadBaruahmeantjustice,integrity,and acutelegalknowledge.Hewasthatjudgeaboutwhoma prisonerwhowasjustsentencedforalongprisonsentence wouldsay,IfIswarjojsentencedme,IknowIdeservedit. Hereturnedalltheweddinggiftsthatweregivenformy eldersisterby differentmerchantsintownbecauseone of themmightappearlaterinhiscourteitherasaplaintiffor asadefendant.Almostallof thosegiftswerejewelryofhigh qualitydiamond. But the ultimate glory came in 1938 when an Englishman appeared in his courtroom as a defendant. What? An Englishman in the courtroom of an Indian judge?Afterall,thiswasthe mightyBritishEmpirewiththe EnglishmanastherulerandtheIndianastheruled.Itwas themightyBritishEmpireuponwhichthesunneverset. TheEnglishmanhadasecretmistressayoungIndian 7

assam,india femaleworkerintheteaplantationwherehewastheyoung bachelor Assistant Manager. He really loved her but one night,thenightofhisreturnfromEnglandwherehehad goneonvacation,helearnedthatshehadbeenunfaithful tohimduringhisabsenceanoccasionforcedonherby anotherEnglishman,aplanterinaneighboringteaplanta tion.Butnotknowingthatherindelitywasforcedonher andnotbotheringtogetthefacts,hewhippedhertodeath. TheBritishcommunityinthevalleyfoughttohavethecase transferredtothecourtofaBritishjudgebecausetheywere shockedthatoneofthemwouldappearasadefendantin thecourtroomofanIndianjudge;buttheyfailedbecause it wasimpractical,thenearestBritishjudgebeingfaraway. Weweretoldthattherewasasensationonthatdayin thecourtroomandamongstthecrowdthathadgathered outsidethecourtroomwhenitbecameknownthattwelve Britishjurymembershadstoodupinastraightlinewhen the Indian judge had entered the courtroom and had remainedstandinguntilhehadsatdown.Thiswasavery ordinary event that had very extraordinary importance, because during the previous generations in that valley, almostalwaysinpublic,itwastheIndianwhostoodwhile theEnglishmanremainedsitting. One evening the town was thrilled to hear that the EnglishmanhadbeensenttoprisonfromanIndiancourt. Peoplefeltthatatleastthatevening,thesundidsetonthe mightyBritishEmpire. Thenthere wasthe DibrugarhCircuitHouseincident. The Circuit House was the place where the British Governorandtopofcialsstayedwhentheywentontour. My father was going on tour to the eastern town of Dibrugarhandhadreservedhisfavoriteroom.Itwasthe secondstorythebestandlargestroomthere,overlooking theriver.Sofarallwasroutinebutsoonitwouldnotbeso. The BritishCommissioner,Mr.Walker,inchargeofthe entire valleya powerful ofcial with no respect for Indiansarrivedbeforemyfatherdid,withnopriorreser vation.Hetoreoffthepaperonthedoorwithmyfathers 8

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nameonitandoccupiedtheroom.Thenlateronthatday, myfatherarrivedandthedramastarted. My father could have easily moved to one of the few vacantroomsintheCircuitHousethatday,andhewould haveifanIndianhadoccupiedhisfavoriteroom.Butitwas Mr.Walkerandsosuddenlythesimplematterbecamean issueofnationalhonor.Myfatherstoodhisground,andgot anapologyfromMr.Walkerandnotjustacasual,verbal apology but an ofcial, written one. Mr. Walker learned thattherewasoneIndianwhomhecouldnotpusharound. Gardeningwasoneofourfathershobbies.Onceourgar denwasthebestintown,settingarecordasmoreattractive thanthoseoftheBritishofcials.Sometimes,fatherwould escortavisitorthroughhisgardenwiththegardenerquiet lyfollowinghim.Namesofowersfromthewesternpor tionofthegardenwouldoatintheairdahlias,phlox, petunia,andcannahasasthevisitorfollowedinadmira tion.ThenthenamesfromtheIndianportionofthegar dennarji,champa,juthi,andkharikajai.Wehadtheonly Eucalyptus tree of Jorhat in our garden. That is when I learned thatitisthe tallesttreeintheworld,andthatthere aremanyinAustralia.ThatsentmetotheletterAofthe BookofKnowledgeset,toreadtheentryonAustralia. My mother,ontheotherhand,spenttimeinthegarden, walking slowly and stopping by different owers. She pickedupthewhitekharikajaiforhermorningteaorthe marigoldforhermeditationandpujah.Again,inthatspe cialwaythatchildrenknow, I realized thatmyfathersjoy was in creating the perfect garden and my mothers in smellingitsowers. My fathers rootswereinthewesternpartofthevalley. Whilemymothercamefromtheeasternaristocracyoftea plantationwealth,myfathercamefromthewesternvalley aristocracy of learning and power. His uncle Anandaram Borooah belonged to the pinnacle of power in the late 1800s,early1900s,asamemberofthestellarIndianCivil Service,whichwasmadeupalmostexclusivelyofBritish graduates of Oxford and Cambridge. He was a barrister 9

assam,india educated in England and was the rst Indian District Magistrate.HewasalsoarenownedSanskritscholarand authorofbooksonancientSanskrittexts.Myfatherroseto beasuperiorjudge,thehighestpositionatthattimeforan Indianinthevalley. Motherhadtoworkoutherownplacebetweenthese twowellknowncirclesinthevalley.Shedidnotletherown world claim her fully; and although some in my fathers family welcomed her affectionately, a few others, though traditionallyreligious,lackedtherealspiritualvisionand depthneededtovaluetheessenceofapersonlikemymoth er.Tothem,shewasmerelyadaughterofawealthyUpper Assamteaplanter,althoughahighlyrespectedone. (Mymaternalgrandfatherwasalsoanattorneyandin theearly1900s,amemberoftheIndianCentralAssembly inDelhi.ThiswastheforerunneroftodayscentralIndian Parliament in New Delhi. Currently, there is a Womens CollegeinJorhatnamedafterhim.) Buttheopinionofmymotherheldbyafewofmypater nalrelativesdidnotmatterintheleastbecausemymother possessed herownbrand ofaristocracythebestbrand.It isthebrandsonicelysummedupbyE.M.Forester:the aristocracyofthesensitive,theconsiderateandtheplucky. In thetownofJorhatwhereIwasahighschoolstudent, a malehighschoolstudenthadtwofathers:hisbiological father and the caring, very strict headmaster Zahiruddin Ahmed,whoranhisschoollikeacommanderrunningan army and whose mission in life was to produce students whocouldholdtheirownanywhere. These male students were delighted by looking at the waves of black,white,and goldthatowedoverthestreets atteninthemorningonweekdays.Thesewaveswerethe combinationofblackhair,whiteblouses,andgoldenskirts (mekhela) worn by female students going to their high school. Each male student had his own favorite black, white,andgoldcombination,whichhewouldsearchforin thatwavewiththeblackpigtailsswinginginunisonlikethe marchingbatonsofAmericanhighschoolgirls. 10

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Atothertimes,threeofusinseparables(myelderbroth erPona,myyoungersisterPunu,andmyself,eachseparat edbyoneyear)wouldgoforawalk.Assoonaswegotout ofthefrontgate,Ponatookcharge.Hehadtokeepastrict eye on me because I liked to scare the two of them by embracingtheelectricpolesontheroad.Ponakeptupthis affectionateguardianroleaslongashelived. SometimestherewastennisonthefrontlawnwithPona andclosefriendsAnil,Shaqul,andInam.Andthenbik ingintheneighboringvillageswithanotherclosefriend, Bhabani. Ah!JorhatHighSchoolsummervacations.Atnight,I wenttobedwithbooksandIwokeupwiththem.Ilaughed atthetalesofJeevesbyP.G.Wodehouse,andmarveledat my rst sonnet by Keats. Books were mostly hardcover booksthen,therstPenguinpaperbackhavingappearedin the valley only a few years earlier. But these books were heavyalsoinotherways.Theywereheavywiththestories andsorrowsoftheages. ThatiswhenIrstreadaboutthe19yearoldJoanof Arc and learned whatthoseknightsandreligiousleaders didtoher.NearlytwentyyearslaterasIstoodatthespot inRouen,France,whereshewasburnttodeath,mymind went back to that distant Jorhat bedroom. That was the bedroomwhereIrstmettheillfatedTessin Tessofthe DUrbervilles, byThomasHardy.Iwasalittletooyoung thentoknowthatTessescameindifferentcolors,withsim ilarhopes but allendingupwiththe same illfatebecause theytrustsomuch. My fatherencouragedmyreadingpassion.Heordered throughmailthe completesetofCharlesDickensnovels, George Bernard Shaw plays, novels of Jane Austin and Hardy,volumesofshortstoriesbydifferentauthors,poems ofWordsworth,Shelley,Keats,andthatvolumeofShake speare.Allwereleatherboundandsmellingimportant.IfI amgratefultomymotherforherreverenceforlife,Iam gratefultomyfatherforhisreverenceforlearning. Thisisthetownwhere,onceuponatime,Ihadparted 11

assam,india withtheearlymagicalchapterofmylife.Thatwassixty veyearsagoandtheseasonwassummer.Itwasjustbefore thoseheavyrainsthatsometimesbroughtwhitehailstones inthefrontyard.Itwasalsojustafterthatbig,fatkathal (jackfruit)hadripenedinthebackyard.Thelastsceneof themorningthatremainswithmehappenedasIwasleav ingforthetrainstation.Ilookedbackthroughtherearwin dowofthecar.MyneighborandfriendBhaitokwasstand inglookingverysadandtearyeyedasthecarmovedon.I wouldneverseehimagain.Ihaveheardthataboutthirty yearslater,hewasinafataltrainaccident. Thatwassummerfortheworld;butformylifeatagesix teen,itwasthespringseasonwithallofmylifestretched aheadofmelikearoadthatwassolongthatIdoubtedifit ended. And that lifes spring had the green color of my Neemtoothpaste. GreenwasalsothecoloroftheAssamValleycountryside. Thatfreshmorningyearsago,Ikeptlookingatitselds, forests,andthesmallpondswithtallbetelnuttreesandthe allpurpose banana trees in the front yards of village thatched houses,whichexpressedthesimplecontentment ofapeoplewhohadlittleandyetquitealot. Itwasinthefrontyardofoneofthosethatchedhouses thatthe womandressedinhergoldenskirtwassweeping theyard,perhapssweepingawaysewaliowers.Thiswas thesoftsmallwhiteowerwithalightpinkcenterthatcre atedthosefragrantearlymorningsinthevalley,sometimes carpetingthe yards. Shewasthatuniversalmorningwomanallovertheworld in different dresses, speaking different languages, arising out of differentdreams,whogetmanymillionsofhomes startedeverymorningforanewday. Later on during that morning, some barebodied chil dren came running towards the train and then, with the condenceofchildren,begantorunbythetrainhopingto overtakeit.Asthatnarrowgaugetrainkeptgoing,Ithought itwastakingmeonlytoCalcuttasPresidencyCollege.Idid notknowthatthetrainhadsomesecretplansaboutmylife 12

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becauseitkepttakingmeaway,away,andaway. AsIlookedatthesunwashedgreenAssamValley,Idid notknowthatstartingwiththenextmorning,asabroad gauge train passed through East Bengal carrying me, I wouldturnintoapermanentvisitortoAssamValley.That I wouldneverlivethereagain. WorldWarIIComesHome ItwastheendofNovember,1941.Thatwasthepleas antseasoninCalcutta.ThePujahseasonhadjustended, leaving happy memories; the heat had subsided two monthsearlier,andeveryonewasenjoyingtheDiwali,or festivaloflights.Calcuttawouldnowreadyherselfforthe Rajpartoftheyear.Britishers,AngloIndiansandWest ernizedIndiansbegantolookforwardtoChristmas.The seasonhadapoliticallayertoit;ChristmasinCalcuttaalso meantthatthemightyBritishViceroywouldcometothe cityfor hisannualstay.Thehorseraceswouldgoon. Esplanade and Chowringheeand the NewMarketarea becamefestive,andeventraditionalIndianslookedforward toeatingcakesonChristmasday.Ferrazini'sneartheNew Marketdidbriskbusinessincakesduringtheseason.So, asDecemberwasabouttoarrive,Calcuttabecamespecial lyenjoyable. I wasasophomoreandwascominghomeoneeveningin earlyDecemberwhensome studentssaidthatJapanhad bombedPearlHarbor.Wedidnotknowwherethatwas untilsomeonesaidHawaii.ItmeantAmericawasatwar withJapan.Irealized thatthisbombingbroughtthewar fromthewesttotheeast,butJapanwassofaraway,the Pacicwasontheothersideoftheworld.Thewarwasstill faraway. All that changed within three months. We could not believewhatwereadeverymorninginthenewspapers.It wasatidalwaveofdisciplined,machinelikesoldiers.The Philippinesfell,thentheDutchEastIndies,thentheMalay 13

assam,india Peninsula,thenthemightyBritishbaseofSingapore.The Japanese army was approaching Burma, which was next door to the Assam Valley. Suddenly, the remote, hidden, quiet,almostprimitiveAssamValleywasatthecenterof newsandplanning.AssamValleybecamelikethesudden lyexposedhiddencottageintheforestthatwastorndown forasuperhighway. Till then, war meant the faraway London blitz. We wonderedhowtheBritishersinCalcuttafeltaboutallofit, whether they were petried that England would fall therewasnowaytoknow.WhilesomeIndiansfeltthatit was their war, there was admiration for the way Londoners were standing up to the constant bombing. Although Indians knew about the imperialist views of Churchill, there was appreciation of the fact that he was takingtheEnglishlanguagetowar.Afterallthatwassaid anddone,itwasstilltheirwartothenationalistIndians. Now it became our war by becoming their war because we were linked with them. Indians were as suc cessful in keeping both contradictions together as most people. Some IndianswereghtingintheMiddleEastand otherfrontierswiththeBritish,justassomeIndianswere ghtingagainsttheBritishandwereforboycottingthewar effort.Butthatwaswhenthewarwasbeingfoughtinthe trenchesofFranceandItalyandthedesertsinNorthAfrica; nowthewarwashereand,likeitornot,supportitornot, therewasnochoice.Itwashereanditwasenteringinto manyof the aspectsof life. Until 1939, the word war appeared only in history books.WarmeanttheGreatWar.Thatwasthenameof thatwaruntilSeptember, 1939,afterwhichitcame tobe called World War I. But the Great War was history. It smelledofmustardgas,broughtupimagesoftrenchesand, forbooklovers,theclassicAllQuietontheWesternFrontor the poetryofRupertBrooke,Wherevertherewasadead soldier,wouldbeapartofEngland. Itwasevenromanticandwethoughtofitat11a.m.on every November 11th, which was called Armistice Day. 14

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Wewentwithourfather,whodressedinablacksuit,tothe Judge'seldforaceremony.Wesatinthefrontrow;the onlyIndiansinthatsectionofthecrowd.Atexactlyeleven, westoodup,thegunswereredandweweresilent.War meantpeaceforaminute.Thatwastheextentofthemean ingofwar. Warnowmeantmanythingsindailylife.Itmeanttrains crowdedwithsoldierswhenIreturnedhomeduringcollege vacations.Itmeantashiningcarforsomeoneintownwho was thought of as a loser for years. This man paid ten rupeeswhenonerupeewouldhavedone;hewastheone withnewmoney.Hewasamilitarycontractorwhogotthe contractsforbuildingquartersforsoldiersthatwereneed edalmostovernight.Warmeanttakingoutthatoldbicy clebecausepetrolwasrationedandthecarhadtobeput away. It meant not being able to move freely at night becauseofblackouts;itmeantrations,andsooncensorship of letters that went from or to people near the frontier whichwaspartoftheAssamValley.Nowwarwasnota remote and sometimes romantic concept; it spread into every area of life. Soonwefeltthattherewasonestrainthatwentthrough allofthesenewtrendsthatawayoflifewasshakentoits roots.Thechiefcasualtywaspredictability.InIndia,and especiallyintheAssamValley,lifeinallofitsaspectswas predictable. Shoe meant Bata, ink meant Quink, butter meantPolson,bookswerehardcoveritemstocarry,neck ties meanthard and uncomfortablecollars.Thefewcolor ful people who had cameras carried black boxes called Brownies.MagazinesmeanttheIllustratedWeeklyofIndia, or for a very few, Punch. IfAssamValleywasafarawayhiddenoutpostforIndia, thevalleyseasternmostportion,whereittouchedBurma, didnotevenariseinpeoplesminds.Itwasabluronthe mapaswellasinpeoplesimagination. What appeared was a vague impressionmountain range,denseforests,bamboo,teakwood,jungleaworld onpartsofwhichhumanfootprintshadnotfallen. 15

assam,india ThencamePearlHarboranditseffects:thesoldiers;the trucks, bigger than what people had seen; a new vehicle calledthejeep.Andthenthejunglesreallycamedown, makeshift airstrips appeared and planes looking like the rathsorskychariots(whichthescripturestalkedabout whendescribingthewarbetweensomegods)andwhich localpeoplehadnotseentill1942,begantoyinandland. Atthesametime,aphenomenalworkofbuildingaroad started.ItstartedbeyondthetownsofLidoandMarghareta remotetownswithItaliannamesbecausetheBritishhad broughtinanItalianarchitecttotakecareofadaunting constructionjob. American equipment, the kind not seen beforebig tractors,tallcraneslookinglikebirdsthatwentuptothe skies,andtoolsthatweremodelsofefciency,beforewhich theforestdidnothaveachancesoonbroughttolifetwo roads,thefamousBurmaRoadandtheStilwellRoad. A massive war effort of men, material, supplies and trucksbegantoclimbuptheseroadstowardstheenemy. It wasanamazingfeat.Allthebuildingmaterialshadto come from outsidethestatefromwhicheverportwascon venientforthelandingofthesematerials.Fromtheportit camebytrainandtowardstheendofthejourney,itwasa narrowgaugetrain.AndthenGIscontinuedtoarrive. The GI was not part of Indias history. The British tommy,eventhat21yearoldwhoarrivedforthersttime in India from a small town in England, automatically became part of the Raj.Somewhereinhispast,itwaslike lythathe hadaconnectionwithIndia.Hisnephew,his granduncle, the brother of his brotherinlaw may have served inIndiainanyof thecivilianormilitaryoperations. Oratleastaneighborwassimilarlyconnected. NowcomestheGI.TothecommonmaninIndia,heis a soldierbutheisnottobefeared.Awhitemanwhowas friendly, inspiteofthelanguagebarrier,heseemedtowant totalkmorethanjustorderingadrinkorataxitheextent oftheBritishtommy'sverbalconnectionwiththisIndian. IftherewaskeepingofadistancewiththeGIitwasmore 16

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from the Indians side because the latter was not used to socialconversationalgiveandtakewithawhiteman. Soon the ways of this new white man, the American, werenoticedandtalkedabout.IftheGIwantedataxi,he didnotmindcrossingthestreettogetintothetaxi,unlike theBritishtommywhodemandedthatthetaxidrivercome around,crossthestreetandstopwherehewasandopenthe door.Iftheonlywaytogointhathotsunwasahuman pulledrickshaw,theGIwasprivatelyuncomfortablesitting ontherickshawbeingpulledbyasweatinghumanbeing, andafrailoneatthat.Hiswayofhandlingit,perhapseven withoutanypsychologicalanalysis,wastogettherickshaw drivertositandbepulledbytheGIforashortdistance, thusmakingthesituationacomfortableone.Nowhecould sitandbepulled. Occasionallytherewouldbesomehumorousstorythat circulatedinthecity.AGIreluctantlystoodupattheend ofamovieinMetrowhenGodSavetheKingwasplayed anditwascompulsorythattheaudiencestand.Itseems thathe saidunderhisbreath,Godwontsavetheirking, we Americanswill.The Indianslovedit. Indians commented that these are good guys, not haughtylikeBritishsoldierswhothoughtitwasbeneath theirstandardtobeseeninIndianneighborhoods.Some GIsvisitedtheBengaliartistJaminiRoyinhisstudio,and bought his art creations exquisite small pieces to send homeasCalcuttasouvenirs. LikeAmericansathome,the youngGIknew practically nothingaboutIndia.Backhomemostofhiscountrymen didnot have thedirectexperienceofIndiathedust,heat, spicy food, comfort of servants, the customary koi hai British brand of power and prestige. India, for most Americans, was a poor but exotic place, which gave HollywoodElephantBoy, withSabuintheleadrole.Italso gave Hollywoodafewothermovies;withtheTajMahal, tigers and turbans. It was a playful connection that America had with India just as for the Indian, America meantHollywood. 17

assam,india Insomequarters,theconnectionwasmoreserious.It wasknownthatwhileChurchillandRooseveltagreedon mostmatters,oneoftheirmajordifferenceswasindepen denceforIndia,whichRooseveltusedtoarguefor.That wasamatterthatusedtoevokefromChurchillovermy deadbody,orsomethinginmoredigniedlanguage. ButtherewasonethingaboutIndiawhichthisyoung GIhadknownfromhisparents.IndiahadGandhiand whateverGandhiwasdoingwasgreat.Asasoldierhewas apoliticalandhedidnotknowthedetails;butinstinctive ly he was for Gandhis movement. He had occasionally heardaboutitfromhisparents. Consideringthecomfortsofhomefromwhichthisboy, hardlyoutofhighschool,hadbeenplucked,tobeputin thejunglesofremoteAssam,hisadjustmentwasremark able. It was not easy, what with heavy monsoon rains, leechescrawlinguptheirtrousers,malaria,dysentery,and Japanese bayonets. When not involved in marches and action,hisrefugewasthesoldierscamps,behindmosqui tonetted verandahs,tohisLife and Time and LuckyStrikes and Philip Morris and listening to bigband music from homeovertheshortwaveradio,courtesyoftheUSO,and pinupgirlBettyGrable. Therewasathirdrefugebutthatcouldhappenonlydur inghisRandRtriptoCalcutta.Hewasprizedbythe AngloIndiangirlswholovednotjusthisgenerositybuthis outgoingness and cordiality, contrasted with that of the British soldier; and he had something which the British tommycouldnotgivethesegirlsasoneofthemworded it,the GIcouldgive herthoseClarkGableaccentscom ingout of the dark whenthetwoofthemweretogether. Theywerethrilledbythat. The war brought America with a human face. This country that was associated with glamour and celluloid suddenlyappearedineshandbloodandavulnerability thatEnglandhadnotshownallduringhertwohundred yearsinIndia.Therearetwoscenesremainingfromthat periodthatillustratethishumanface. 18

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Itwasthespringof1943;therewasalargeGIbaseout sideofmyhometownJorhatwhereanairporthadsprung upwithinafewmonths.Intheblackedouttown,Iwas returningwithacoupleoffriendsfromalatenightmovie. WewerewalkingontheTrunkRoad.Ithadbeguntorain and suddenly there was a streak of lightning. At that moment,wesawayoungGI,apparentlydrunk,unsteady onhisfeet,cryingandshouting,Guys,don'tleaveme. Wedidnotknowwhattodo;feelinghelplessandsorryfor him,wekeptwalking. Theotherscenewasduringthedayandinthehotsun ofsummerwhenthetemperaturewentupto120degrees. A groupofGIswereconstructinganextensionofaroad neartheircampandtheyhadnothingonbuttheirshort shorts.Thatwasthersttimeanyoneinthetownhadseen a whitemanwithhisbodyalmostbare.Inthatonenoon time,thoseguysshatteredawesternersheritageofalways appearing in public fully dressedthe men in suits and ties,thewomeninlongdresses,andalwaysdressingfordin nerwhilebeingwaited upon bythenativehelp. Throughthe GI,the Americanimageshiny,informal, comfortable and convenientbegan to spread. The big wrench;suitcarriergarmentbaginsteadofthebulkysuit case in which the suits had to be carefully folded; the Ronsoncigarettelighterinsteadofmatches;theleathertoi letkitbag;theshoulderbag,outofwhichtheshiny Life magazinecame;thelongcartonsofPhilipMorriscigarettes, the packopeninginadifferentwaythanthe Englishand Indiancigarettesdid;sunglasseswithgreenlenses,whereas the lenses that Indians had seen until then were always black. An entire mystique grew up around this young American.Itseemedtopeoplethatwarcouldbehellbut Americansknewhowtomaketheroadtohellatleastcom fortable. The incessant movement of supplies, trucks, people, jeepsonthefamousroad,aswellasinanotherfrontsome whattothesouthoftheroad,nallystoppedthesteam rollingmarchoftheJapanesebeforewhichcountriesinthe 19

assam,india PacicandSoutheastAsiahadfallen. SlowlyitbecameclearthatJapanwasheadingfordefeat. ActionwasslowingdownintheAssamfronttheIndia BurmaChina front as it was called, started becoming quiet. Astimewenton,whenpeopletalkedabouttheSecond WorldWar,theywouldbringupnamesoffamousbattle elds,invasions,fronts.Onceinawhile,thementionof theIndiaChinaBurmafrontwouldcomeupbutnotas oftenastheothernames.Andyet,thiswasthefront,which includedanareasouthofthefamousroadknownthenas theNagaHills,wherethesteamrollingJapanesearmythat swept over countries, some in a few days, was nally stoppedandthetideturned. TheBritishfeltitspeciallybecausetheywereafraidthat the Japanese army might enter India, which was their jewel in the crown. The fact that the IndiaChina BurmafrontseemedtotakeabackseatinWorldWarII conversationsmadesomepeoplerefertoitastheforgotten frontier. The happygoluckynoncolonialmoodthattheGIcon veyedtotheIndiansincontrastwithhisfellowwhitesol dier, the British tommy, had a coveredup ugly fact for whichof coursetheindividualGIwasnotresponsible.That wassegregationnotonlyintheAmericanSouth,which wehadreadaboutinhighschool,butintheU.S.armed servicesaswell. For one thingthere were no blacksoldiersinIndiaand certainlynotinmycornerofAssamValley.Itwasnotuntil nearly65yearslater,whilereadingthroughtheWashington Post of June 4, 2008,thatIlearnednotonlythatracialseg regationwasaliveandwelleveninmyremoteIndiaBurma frontier,butthattherehadbeenanuglyepisodeinmyown backyard. Here isthegistofthestoryasreportedinthePost of June 4, 2008attimesinthewordsofWillHaygood,Washing tonPost staffwriter: Hewasasmoothieandacad,walkingandswayingup 20

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anddownUstreetasifheownedthetown.Youngwomen swooned over Herman Perry in those preWorld War II days. He liked silk suits and white shirts, soul food and dancingatnight.Thewar,asithaddonetosomanyoth ers,caughthimupininmidstride. He was shipped out to the IndoBurma theater. The 849th Engineer Aviation Battalion (750 black soldiers, HermanPerryamongthem,and50whiteofcers)headed towardsthatfrontierfromStatenIslandinJulyof1943. Noneoftheblacksoldiersweretoldtheirdestination.That destinationwasamassivebuildingprojectthebuildingof theStilwellRoadtoconnectwiththefutureBurmaRoad, toferrysuppliestoaidtheChinese. For all these years Perrys familya surviving sister had been bewildered about his death. His remains never camehome. Andnowthestoryisoutduetothezealofa33yearold rsttime author: Yale graduate Brendan Koerner, whose book on this story, Now the Hell will Start: One Soldiers FlightfromtheGreatestManhuntofWorldWarII,hasjust been published. Some critics refer to it as a Heart of Darkness,ApocalypseNowtypeofstory.Tomakeitpar ticularlyarresting,Koernersbookutilizesarmydocuments and records that he obtained through the Freedom of InformationAct.Hebecameobsessedwiththecase,and left his Manhattan apartment for the Burmese jungles wherehebecameilllookingfortracesofPerryspast. Here iswhathe hasput together: Likemanyoftheblacksoldiersintheunitmenwho swungshovelsandpickaxesandbrokerockalldayPerry complained of mistreatment.Inhiscase,itwasquitespe cic.Hehadalreadyservedtwoweeksbeyondhisoriginal 90daysinthestockadewithoutanyexplanation. Soonemorninghejustwalkedouttothejungle.Within hours Perry was confronted on the road by Lt. Harold Cody, who was unarmed and intended to arrest Perry. Sweatingandsobbing,PerrykeptshoutingatCody,Get back,getback!ButCodywasinchingtowardshim. 21

assam,india Itwasthenthatithappenedtheincidentthatwould sealPerrysfate.HetookhisrieandshotCodyinthechest and then the stomach and immediately ran towards the jungle,whichheseemedtoknowquitewell. Whatcameafterthatisevenmoreunreal.Perryarrived inavillageofNagatribesmenheadhunterswhowereat rstpuzzledandsooncharmedbyhim.Perrystayedon, marriedayoungwomanoftheNagatribe,andfathereda child.Iintendedtospendtheremainingyearsofmylife in the jungle, Perry later confessed, and live with the NagagirlwhomIclaimasmywife. Themanhuntthathadbeengivenupwasresumedonce word spread about a black man in a Naga tribal village. Corneredandbleedingfromagunshotwoundinictedby U.S.soldiers,hewastakentoamakeshiftarmyhospital, wherehewasgivenblood.Itwasbloodfromtheblacksol diers;thearmywouldnotallowbloodfromawhitesoldier tobegiventoablack. Nowthestoryshiftstothesleepytowninmyownchild hood backyard thatplayedacrucialroleinthestorythe town of Ledo. Perrys court martial began in early September, 1944, at a tea plantation there. His military lawyer,ClaytonOberholtzer,hadbeenasmalltownattor ney in Ohio. It was his rst murder case. The verdict: guilty;thesentence:deathbyhanging. PerryawaitedhisfatefuldayintheLadostockade,shack ledtoaloglikeachastiseddog,accordingtoKoerner. The weeksrolled by becauseanappealwasautomatic.In DecemberPerryescaped,thankstoapairofplierssomeone hadslipped tohim.The AssamPoliceGazettehadanarti cletitled A coloredHoudinifromtheUSA,aidedbyafew Nagatricks,issureplayinghobswiththetrapsthathave beensetforhim. Dayslater,sittingatacampreandsurroundedyetagain, Perry wasoutofenergy.Yougotmewasallthathehadto saytohiscaptors. OnthemorningofMarch15,1945,Perrywasdrivenin thedarktohisdatewiththegallows.Cullum,the89year 22

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old military police ofcer who nally had charge of this manhunt,receivedaletterfromPerryshalfbrother,who wastryingtondoutwhathadhappenedtohim.Cullum replied:Ifhehadusedtherightattitudeandifthearmy hadusedhisabilities,hecouldhavebeenanexcellentjun glescout.Butinthe1940shewasaroadbuilder. EdnaWilson,83,isthesolesurvivorofthePerrysib lings.Aretirednursesassistant,shesaysthatsheknewher brotherhadbeendisappointedwithhistreatmentinthe military.Itwastoughforhimallalong.Goingoverseasin thebottomofthatshiplikethat.Thecoloredsoldierswere treatedlikeabunchofanimals.Thefamilyknewnothing aboutherbrothersprecariousemotionalstateorineffective legalcounsel,sheadded.Thenshesaid:Hedidnthave nobodyonhisside. ThefamilycametoknowofPerrysrestingplaceinamil itarycemeteryinHawaii.Wilsonscroungedupathousand dollarstohaveherbrothersbodydugupandcremated. Justsevenmonthsago,therewasaknockatthedoorat Wilsons home in Washington, D.C. The mailman had delivered a box containingherbrothersashes. Heishomenow,shesaysoftheJungleKing,whoused toglideupanddownUStreet. By autumn1945,thebusyairstrips,themakeshiftopen air giant movie screens, the mosquitonetted camps, the junglehospitals,themesshallsgraduallybecamedeserted. Buffalosliterallycametoroamtheregiononceagain. Allthatwasleftinthatarea thatassociated itwiththe Second World War was a cemetery for fallen soldiers. Nearlyftyyearslater,Ivisitedthisimmaculatelymain tained spot of greenthatIenteredthroughagateway. AsIwaswalkingslowly,stoppingeveryvefeetorso, the caretaker mentioned, politely and hesitantly, that it wouldbeduskinanotherhalfanhourandthatthegate wouldclose. I thankedhimandnoticedasmallmetaleagleononeof thegraves.IrealizedthatthegravewasnotforaBritishor anIndiansoldier. 23

assam,india I stoppedandread. 31115894 SergeantA.S.Oja UnitedStatesArmyAirCorps 7thAugust1944Age23. RecentPastNewIndependentIndia Withinameretwoyears,Indiabecameindependentand thecountrywasdividedintoIndiaandPakistan.Thecom munalcarnage,savagerythathadoverwhelmedallofNorth India,hadnotspilledouttothevalley.Therewasnocom munaloutbreakinAssamValleyduringthatprepartition period.AssamValleyremainedasitwasaremotepartof India.Butnowanominoussoundlledtheairintheval ley.Itwasthesoundofendlessfootstepscrossingthebor derbetweenthevalleyandEastPakistan. These were footsteps rst of Hindu refugees and later many poor people, illegal entries from the overcrowded impoverishedEastPakistanandlaterfromBangladeshto the more spacious, green Assam Valley. The locals, the Assamese,havealwaysbeenasimple,trustingpeopleand itwasnotuntiltheyfoundthatinmanyrespectssmall business, housing, and ordinary employmentthe self describedrefugeeshaveovertakenthemthattheyroseup. Whenasteadystreamof foreignerscrosses a countrys borderatwill,itisanationalproblem.WhenMexicansille gallycrossthe border,Washingtondoesnotlooktheother way, saythatitisaTexasproblem,andblameTexansfor beinginhospitabletothoseillegallycrossingthecountrys border.ButthatessentiallyiswhathappenedtoAssam.The peopleinpowerinNewDelhiexplaineditawayasmainly anAssameseBangalKhedda, Drive outthoseBengalis, issue.Tosettherecordstraightinthisunfortunatesaga,I havetostatethisinspiteofmylongendearingcommunion withthatsoftpreciousBengalisoul. 24

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WhentheAssamesepeoplenallywokeuptotheircon ditionandcriedoutinterror,thatterrorwasconfusedwith terrorism. This happened because people heady with powerhadnotlearnedhowtohearthevoicethatisinside mostcriesnortouchthepainthatisinsidemostangers. Theseweretheadvisers,thecourtjestersofIndiraGandhi. Allofthiscouldhavebeenavoided.Therewasamoment thatwasnotseized;therewasaroadthatwasnottaken; there was a boldness that did not appear because of the degreeofrashness.Bothsidesbungledthematterandlost valuabletime.Onesidedidnotreadthebigpictureand seize the opportunity, however limited; the other side playedtoughandrough. Bytreatingandlabelingapeaceful,civilmovementas terrorism,theauthoritiesgraduallyturneditintoone.The movementthathadmobilizedhopesinacivilizedmanner becamecontaminated.Itgraduallyturnedintoterrorism, andthentoextortionism. Uniquenessof AssamValley AfterIleftthevalleytostudyandthenkeptmoving,I wouldlookbackatitfromadistance.AndIwouldbesur prisedhowsofewpeopleoutsidethevalleyknewaboutit, despiteitsrichandlengthyhistory. Thisvalleyhadthepotentialtobecomeauniquebridge; for itisone of the few places inthe worldthatjoinstwoof the threebasicandgreatcivilizations.Withitslefthand,it touches theCaucasoid,whichstretchesallthewaytothe banksof the BalticSea.Withtherighthandittouchesthe Mongoloid,whichreachesallthewaytotheseaofKorea. Andyet,despitethisgreatgeography,itbecamepowerless. Thedoorsbecamewalls,closingoffthevalley. Thathappened becausethepresentafterpushingaway thepast,wentelsewhere.Thedeadendwasintensiedby theimpenetrableeasternfrontierwithBurma(Myanmar). Assam Valley became the exception to the rule that says 25

assam,india morningshowstheday.Actually,itsdeclinestartedwith theBritisharrival. LocationhasworkedsplendidlyinthecaseofCalcutta (Kolkata),whichinamerefourhundredyearsoutofthree combinedvillageshasbecomethedelightfulplaceoftoday. But it acted against Assam Valley. Calcutta grew up fast becauseitwasfedawellbalanceddietwhichAssamValley didnotfullygetadietwhich,amongstotherthings,con sistedofanactiveport,commerce,andtheseatofBritish intellectualandpoliticallife.Thecitybeingthecapitalof India until it was replaced by Delhi, Calcutta got both Shakespeareandships. In those days, the valley could neither thrive as an exposedportcity,nordisplaytotheworlditsjewels,capi talizingonitsremoteness. Itdidnottakepeopleontoursstartingatthescenicbase wherethebigriverenteredtheValley,ortakethemtothe oileldsthatprecededthoseinTexasandOklahoma,or showthemtheRanghar,theoldestopenairamphitheater inAsia,or show themtheruinsoftheAhomkingdom.The onehorned rhino didnotprovetobeenough. Assam Valley remained too shy to appear before the worldholdingitstrophies.Itdidnotrealizeitspotentialto bethe NileValleyofIndiawithrelicsundergroundfrom theconuenceoftwocivilizations,theartifactsoftheAhom andpreAhomdynasties,whichhadruledthevalleyand hadhadearlycontactswithChina.Itdidnottrytoinvite the ecotouristtoseethe twentydifferentAssamesemedic inal edible greensnatural products in search of which ecotourists go to the rainforests of the Amazons or to remoteislands. Inadditiontoitsgeographicalstories,thevalleyisspe cialalsoinsocioculturalmatters.AssamValleyhasavoid edoneofthesocialcancersofIndiathedowry.Families withdaughtershave feltachilleverytimetheyheardthat evilword.Theyhavefallenbeneaththeweightofthiscurse, and either never recovered from the nancial burden causedbydowryorhadtowaitfortwomoregenerations 26

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before they could recover from ruin. Girls in India have becomedoomedtoanunwantedstatus;insomeextreme cases,orphanedgirlshavebeensoldintoprostitutionorthe sextradebygreedyrelatives(somuchforIndianfamilyloy alty). Assam Valley has no such oppressive dowry system. Thereisanotherimportantmatterwherethevalleyshines weaving. Mahatma Gandhi, who had made spinning andweavingacentralconceptinraisingIndiasselfesteem and selfreliance in the British days, remarked when he landedinAssamValleyforthersttime:Youpeoplehave beenaheadofme. UnlikeinsomeotherpartsofIndiawhereweavingisrel egatedtocertainlowercastes(likethetantis ofneighboring Bengal),weavingwasabadgeofhonorineveryfamilyin AssamValley,fromtheregaltotheragged. During my early years, after the children had left for schoolsandthehusbandsfortheirofces,auniqueAssam Valleysoundbegantobeheardindifferenthouses. It wasthe constantsoundofthewoodenmako, the spin dleinthe familyloom thatraced backandforthwithevery footmovement.Andithappenedineveryfamily. Duringmyhighschoolyears,Iheardthatmakosound comingfrommymothersbackyardloom.Thosebunga lows had huge grounds so our British neighbors in that BritishislandofJorhatmissedoutonthatauthenticand uniqueAssamesesound.Itwascomparableinitstradition to the hissing sound of all those teakettleslled with Assamtea leavesfromoneendofEnglandtoanotherat fouroclockeveryafternoon. My motherwenttoextremeswithherweaving.Once shedecidedtogivemeashirtofpuresilkinherownway. Sherearedsomesilkwormsinthebackyard;induetime, throughalongprocess,shespunthreadoutofthosesilk worms;thenshearrangedthosethreadsintherightweav ingwheel,andthethreadswereputintheloom.Intime theshirtwasstitchedfromagoldencloth. Anymerchantintownwouldhavegladlycomeoverwith 27

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samplesofsuchpuresilkshirtsifcalledandshecouldhave easilyboughttwosuchshirts.Butitwouldnotbethatspe cialshirt. EveryAssamesewomanachievedaspecialkindofself esteemfromherabilitytopulltogetheroneofthosebright designsoverwhiteclothinthebackyardhandloom.Yes,it wasthegamocha, theAssamesetowel. Therewasatimewheneveryoneinthevalleystartedhis orherdaywashingthesleepyeyesanddryingthemwitha gamochanomatterwhatreligion,orwhetheronelivedin thehillsortheValley.Youcouldnevergoawayfromthe Assamesegamochaofreddesignsonawhitecloth.Towels werefortheBritishersandforthewesternizedIndians. TheBengaliworldalsohasasimilaritemthegamcha; butthatisameretowel.ByputtingtheletterOprecisely inthemiddleofthosesixlettersbymakingthegamchaa gamochayouinstantlygiveithistoryandtradition.Itis nolongerjustanAssamesetowel.Instantly,itbecomesalso a banner. The gamochaisaregularpresenceintheceremoniesin AssameseprayerhallsknownasNamghars.Amongstthe simplestprayerhallsintheworld,oftenwithoutwalls,com pletelybareexceptforacertainspiritthatyoucantouchif youareopentoit,thesehallsdottheruralAssamValley. SometimesaNamgharappearsrightinthemiddleofa wetriceeld;afamilydramamaybegoingallaroundit the husband dragging the plow, the wife following him plantingthe riceseeds,the childrendraggingawoodenbas ket (jakai) where they have put the minish they have picked upon thosestreams.Suchasettingisaptforthis typeof prayerhallbecauseitsymbolizesasolidspirituality groundedintherice,mud,toil,sweat,andhopesoffarm people. Allofthesespiritualculturalartisticmusicalexpressions canbetraced toaphenomenalVaishnavasaintofthe15th century:SriSankardev.

amritbaruah Temples Thetemplesofthevalleyarenotaweinspiringlikethe majestictemplesofSouthIndiathatsoartowardstheheav ens.Hereoneexperiencesnotawebutaffection,alongwith reverence. The Kamakhya Temple to the goddess Durga has an importantroleinIndianscriptures.Yeteventhistemple, likethevalleyitself,hasanoffbeat,offthebeatenpathfeel aboutit.Duringmychildhood,wewouldclimbthehillto thistemple,tobegreetedbyapriest,orpanda.Mostfam iliesintheregionwereconnectedwithaspecialfamilyof panda,whohadtakencareofthepilgrimageneedsofthese familiesforgenerations. OurpandawasnamedSomhu.IstillrememberIwas probablytwelveyearsoldatthetimeSomhuPandahov eringoverusfortheentiredayasheshepherdedusthrough thetemples.Hewouldtelluswhentobowdown,orwhere toplacetheower,orbelleaf,whichwassupposedtohave anauspiciousmeaning.Then,afterafewhours,hewould guide ustohishome where theentirefamilywaswaiting foruswithaspeciallunch,thefragranceofwhichlledthe house.Idontrecallwhatwedidafteraheavylunchanda restmost probably, we simply climbed back down the hill,completingadayofpilgrimage. Then there was the Nobograha, or Nine Planets, TempleperhapstheonlytempleinIndiathatisdedicat ed tothe zodiac.And yetitisalmostunknownoutsideof the valley.Thatisanotherexampleofhowremotenesshas beenadisadvantagefor the bucolicvalley,whetherforpub licity, industry, or economicgrowth.(SinceIleftthevalley, though,moreoilhasbeendiscoveredandextracted.But otherwise,thefamousAssamtea,withitsupsanddownsin the export market, has remained the dominant agribusi ness.) But perhaps the most unique temple of the valley is Umananda.DedicatedtothegodShiva,itistheonlyriver islandtempleintheworld.Thistempleinthemidstofthe 29

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assam,india river Brahmaputra has always been peaceful. Even today whentherestofthevalleyhasbecomepartofthenoisy, urbanized,populousIndia,theislandisaplaceforquiet retreatexceptforonedayoftheyear.Thatisthedayof Shivaratri,themostprominentdaydedicatedtothegod Shiva.Onthatdaythisislandiscrowdedwithyoungmaid ens,dressedinyellow,whoconvergeonthetempletopray forgoodhusbands.Ofcourse,sometimestheirprayersare answered;sometimes,not. Continuingthroughthevalley,oneseessmallroadside temples.Thesearestructureswherepeoplecometopray andplaceowers,oftenunderthesupervisionofapriest wholivesinthenearbyvillage. Andwhenonearrivesintheeasternpartofthevalleyat thesmallhistorictownofSibsagar,oneseesthelargetem pletothegodShivacalledShivaDolShivaTemplesit uatedonthebankofamassivepond. Assam Valley is also called the Brahmaputra Valley, namedafterthemightyriverthatcreatedit.TheBrahma putraisperhapsthe leastknownofthesevenlongestrivers of the world. It is a river of 1300 miles that changes its name,althoughnotitswater,asitentersdifferentcoun tries. It is Tsangpo in Tibet where it originates. Then it ows east, suddenly changes its mind and takes a sharp curve,entersIndia,andbecomesBrahmaputraandnally PadmaasitentersBangladeshbeforeemptyingitselfinto theBayofBengal.Andwitheachnewname,itbecomes bothasourceand anelementinthe folkloresandcultureof the regionthroughwhichitisowing. Asachild,Ihadbecome familiarwiththisriver,withthe washermenbeatingtheirclothesonahugestonenearthe riverandthenspreadingtheseclothesonthesandunderthe strong sun; the sherman with his bare body and dhoti wrappedaroundhiswaist,draggingabigshbehindhim; the boatmensingingtheirsongs.Itisafriendlyriverexcept duringtheoodseasons. Itwasonlyrecentlythatpeoplelearnedthatmyhome townriverhasahistory.TheNationalGeographicSociety 30

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announcedinlate1998thatanexpeditiontoaremote,pre viously unseen mountain area in Tibet by an American explorernamedIanBaker,haddiscoveredalongrumored butneverdocumentedmajorwaterfallthatisthesourceof myriver.TheNationalGeographicSocietyraved:Long afterVictoriaFalls,thesourceoftheNileRiver,hadbeen discovered,thegreatfallsoftheBrahmaputrahadremained anobsession,afabledbutunseenwonder. Every river has the other bank and in this case, the otherbankisNorthGuwahati.Thatlabelisdividedintoa few different namesRajaduar is one of these. That is where my paternal family tree sprouted and began to spread. And that tree belonged to the garden called MajindarBaruagroup. EverypersoninAssamValleyatleastuntilmygenera tionhadafavoritespotwhere,asachild,heorshechased butteries.Althoughitisdifculttopicturemylatefather asachild,becauseofhispersonality,hemusthavebeena childonce.AndRajaduariswhere,asthatchild,hechased hisbutteries. LifeTodayTheNewMillennium Duringmychildhood,AssamValleyprimarilywasatale oftwotownsJorhat,thelastcapitaloftheAhomkings, the hasbeen town, and Gauhati, the wasandwillbe town. Gauhati (now Guwahati) has lived up to its promise,asIdiscoveredduringmyrecentvisit. The strikingaspectof the citytodayisthatthereisalways motion.Cars,autos,busesvehicularmovementisevery where.Evenpedestriansseemtobemovingattopspeed.It ishardtondsomeonestandingidleinacorner.Theonly timepeopleseemtobestilliswhentheyarewaitingforthe bus.The leisure tostandaroundandchatseemstobecom pletelyabsentfromlife.Everyone,itseems,ismovingto somethingproductive. Time,thatunforgivingmaster,hasatlastarrivedinthe 31

assam,india valley of the lahe lahe (slowly, slowly) spirit. I had seen times hand at work in Bangalore, Hyderabad, and Cal cutta,butinmyhometown? Thecityhasallthehallmarksofmodernitycomputers, email,carryoutfood,cellphones,peoplerecoveringfrom heartbypasssurgery,andevenirritationifavisitorsudden lyarriveswhenoneisabouttostartviewingafavoritetele visionprogram.Yes,Guwahatihasarrived. OnedaymyyoungestbrotherIshan,whoisatalented actorandlmdirector,andIdrovefromoneendofthecity toanother. AfterawhileIfeltthatthecompressedenergyoftheval ley,wheretherearenobigindustriesorfactories,hadburst outmakingthisroadatributetosmallindustries.Noteven inAmericahaveIseen20milesofcontinuoussmallshops. A fewthousandstores,attimesinafourorvestoried building,adifferentstoreoneveryoorandseveralonone oorwithcolorfulsignboardsred,yellow,purple.From a distancethefaadelookslikeahugeartgallerywall. Tea stalls, wine stores, small pharmacies, s.t.d./xerox, clothingstores,tea stalls,barbershops,s.t.d./xerox,stores selling books and newspapers and magazines, tea stalls, more clothing stores, toy stores, s.t.d./xerox, still more clothing stores, sweetmeat stores, fried garbanzobean stands,s.t.d./xerox,teastalls.Mymindgotdazed.AndI felttheenergyeventhoughtherewasafranticqualityabout it.Itwasalmosttheenergyofshocktherapy. Tapestries Thisvalleyisatapestryofdifferentminiculturesthatare actually indigenous cultures in their completeness. And duringmychildhoodthissituationmanifestitselfinspe cial dress wear, songs, dances, and social customs. This socioculturaltapestryhasbeenwovenoutofboththehill andplainspopulations.Differenthillshavebeenknownfor their tribal populations that have been there for genera 32

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tions. Actually these cultures have been more complete thanwhatthetermtribeimplies. Inrecentyears,theculturaluniquenessofsomeofthese regionshasbeengivenpoliticallegitimacybygivingthem a politicalidentity.Someofthemarenowselfgoverning stateswithintheIndianunion. Thenewtermthataccuratelyreectsthisnewarrange mentisAssamValleyandtheSevenSisterssometimes describedsimplyastheNortheast. Thisisthemetaphoricalmeaningoftapestry.Butalso the valley literally produces tapestries of creative design. Three years ago I ran into an American female fashion designeratacocktailparty,whosaidtomeafterdiscover ingthatIwasborninthevalley:Ihavejustreturnedfrom Sualkuchi. And to think that I have never visited Sual kuchi,hardlyahundredmilesfromwhereIwenttohigh school.AlwaysIhadheardabouttheexquisiteMugacloth (pulled out of a special, locallygrown silkworm) that Sualkuchiwasfamousfor. Backinthosedaysbefore theuniformityofglobalization and industrialization hadowedoverthevalley,thetypical femaledresswasnottheonepiecesaributathreepiececol orfuldresstheblouse,askirtlikelongpiece,andashawl likeupperpiececoveringthebody.Allthreewereofdiffer entcolorsandusuallyofhandloomclothmadebywomen in their backyards. What, you bought it? connoted Whatalazywoman. Thisfemaledressfurthershowshow the valleyconnects IndiawithSoutheastAsiaespeciallyThailandnotonly geographically(whichsomedaywillhavesignicance)but alsoculturally. The Ahom kingswhoruled the valleyfor severalhundredyearsandwhoassimilatedwiththelocals tracedtheiroriginstoThailand. Recentlysomeintellectualsandactivistswhoresidein the valley joined with similar people aboard who have formed a think tank (FASSFriends of Assam and the Seven Sistersfriendsofassam.com). These people are eagertobringnewideastothevalley,followedbyaction 33

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thatwilltakethevalleytofullerrealizationofitspotential ities. Theirrangeiswidefromnewformsofricecultivation toprogramsforencouragingyoungwriterstotheadoption ofmoreeffectivemethodsofconictresolution.Theseand otherlikemindedpeoplewanttoseethevalleybecomea moreprogressiveanddevelopedregioninthe21stcentury, afterthelastcenturyofquietisolationandsomewouldgo sofarastosaybenignneglect.

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