On Road In North East India-7

LETTER TO A FRIEND-2

Dear Vidhya,

 

I remembered you last week.

No, nothing to do with your new profile pix in Facebook, but a different thing altogether.

Because it brought back memories my late mother also.

Your favourite ‘Chillu patti’.

I was in Kamrup village visiting a farmer on the outskirts of Guwahati, Assam who is growing rajnigandha and chrysanthemum in polyhouses.

While returning from polyhouses, I spotted this.

Look at this…

Remember what it is?

 It is sparrow’s nest.

My mother and your ‘Chillu patti’ (Chillu grandma) used to tell you that it is a kuruvi koodu (nest of sparrow in Tamil) when you hardly 2 or 3 years in 1986-7!

Somehow whenever I see kuruvi koodu (sparrow nest), I always remember you.

And my mother.

 
How beautifully these little creatures build their home out of straw, hay, dried leaves….

Beautiful civil engineering skillsets.

I saw plenty of them.

When we live in metros, we lose touch with nature.

You in Singapore and I in Delhi.

And we all go bonkers when we see animals in jungle or watch tribal life on Geo wild or Animal Planet.

Talking about villages, reminded me of my niece Savita Venkataraman, (now in Boston on a visit). Her mother in law (incidentally, she was my school mate in Children Garten School, Mylapore, Tamilnadu in 1960s) narrated this to me during a recent visit to their Mumbai abode.

One day, Savita when the family was on a vacation to somewhere in the country, decided to take her two little sons to a nearby village. “I did not understand this urge to show my grandsons these villages. .. But Savita explained that her children need to know villages are also part of India and they living in highrise concrete jungles should get exposed to mud houses, wihtout fans and airconditioners, cooking with wood-fed stoves (not LPG), wells, and how they grow paddy, bullock carts etc.”

Savita was trying to get her children the rural connect or Bharat connect.

We all must show our children (particularly the city bred) these things.

Sorry… this also brought back memories of my own experience.

When my daughter Krutika was hardly 5 years, I took her in a Haryana state transport bus to 50 km into rural backyard.

Both of us walked 5 km from the pucca road where we alighted into the nearby village.

We saw gud (jiggery) making, men and women taking bath in a temple tank, oil crushing with two bulls circling a manual crusher and someone milking a cow! For my daughter, who is familiar with sachet milk pockets, it was a revelation!

Lovely rural darshan.

Enough for today, Vidhya.

Next time when you visit India, take your children to Mudikondan (near Mayavaram, Tamilnadu) from where your father hails.

Hope to catch up with you at your father’s 60^th birthday in Chennai on April 30, 2013!

Cheers

 

 

On Road in North East India-6

Letter to a friend-1

Hi,

 

Imagine a second class non-ac sleeper in Indian Railways.

Well that sums up my sleeping mode in trucks when am on the national highways jaunt.

Just me, driver and conductor for company on a truck that moved on NH37 linking Guwahati with Tinsukia over two nights, covering 580 km.

Luckily the weather was pleasant – cool indeed forcing me to wear sweater and stick to jeans pant.

 

 

Usually am in my trademark red T-shirt and shorts! Not this time at least during nights.

Actually you cannot sleep because the ride is not smooth thanks to bad roads.

You really sleep for a 4 hour deep slumber when the truck halts past midnight and driver is tired to steer anymore….

Now I mastered the art of sleeping even such conditions!

But when you complete the journey, bones are rattled and demand for a full-fledged bed rest.

Luckily, transporters whom take me on as a co-passenger arrange for 24-hour stay in a 3-star hotel for a good day/night sleep before I pack up and move on to another journey… another half-sleep journey.

Interesting part is I am wide awake the movement truck comes to a sudden halt at anytime… my sixth sense tells that there is something wrong. Either a RTO or policemen obstructing the smooth passage.

Like it happened on NH37 two nights ago.

Around 1.30 a.m. our truck was stopped by half a dozen Assam policemen hardly a few kilometers before the Naogaon Paper Mills on NH 37.

 We were waved down.

Paper demanded. Checked.

Demand for Rs.2000 ‘entry’ fee cropped up. (Entry is nothing but a bribe!)

My driver Bharat Yadav refused to budge.

His driving license was asked for.

He valiantly handed over and began arguing with them.

“Rs.2,000 for what?”

One of the six policemen who plucked the license, walked away, leaving the rest of police team to haggle with driver.

I sat up and noticed the unfolding drama.

Then peace prevailed for a few minutes.

Traffic was building up behind us.

Policemen settled for Rs.20 for ‘chai paani’! (Haha!)

License was returned  to Bharat and we moved on.

Now I have become immune to this kind of dramas.

This does not excite me except…

I make note of such happenings and write to the state government Minister of transport, principal secy (transport) and a copy to NHAI through which am passing through. Of course, a copy goes to cabinet secretariat and to the Ministry of Transport in Delhi.

You must see the ‘glee’ in the faces of drivers when drivers in opposing direction signal with waving hands that there are RTOs or Traffic Inspectors (whom I referred to as highway vultures in my book) en route.

Every single pie saved from donating to RTOs & TIs is a big bonus for drivers. They pocket it and write/tell their motor maliks that they indeed ‘paid’ RTOs.

 Swindling is definitely on…

The only question is: who swindles whom?

Since drivers know that I know their maliks well, they request not to share this info with their bosses.

But maliks know all these games. That is drivers are paid peanuts as salary!

Enough for now.

Will catch up with another letter soon.

 

Ciao

 

Ramesh