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ThePowerofCulture
Inadditiontonovelsandpoems,IndiraGoswamialsowritesshortstories.Hercollectionofshort
storiesTheShadowofKamakhya,describinglifeintheprovinceofAssam,whereshewasborn,was
publishedin2001.ThestoryTheJourneyisexemplaryforGoswami'sstyle.Itispoeticdespitethe
seriousthemesofpovertyandthestruggleforindependence.Twotravellersarestrandedwithan
impoverishedfamily,andobservehowlifehastakenitstoll.

TheJourneyIndiraGoswami
december2008
Thisareafallsintheterritoryofthemilitants.Itisentirelycoveredbythickforest.ProfessorMirajkar
andIwerereturningafteravisittotheKazirangaNationalPark.BothofusworkinDelhiUniversityin
theDepartmentofModernIndianLanguagesandLiteraryStudiesandhadtocometoattenda
conferenceorganizedbythestudentsofAssam.WewereanxioustoreachGuwahatibeforedark.
Mirajkarwasnotafraidofwildanimals,hesaid,buthewasdefinitelyafraidofterrorists.Oneofhis
bestfriendshadbeenkilledbytheextremistsinPunjab.Hekeptaskingme,Haveyoubeenableto
controlterrorisminthisbeautifullandofyours?Ireallydidnotknowwhattotellhimespeciallysince
onourwaywecrossedquiteafewcheckpostswherewewereexaminedandhadtorchesshoneon
ourfaces.
Isatinthecar,lookingoutofthewindow,tryingtoimaginemyselfbackontheverandahofthe
Kazirangatouristlodge,listeningtothewindrustlingthethickclumpsofbijulibamboo,asifitwere
mugasilk.Irememberedthemoonspotlightahugeowlthatsatonachatyantree,itshead
disproportionatelylarge,likethatofanewbornbaby.Mirajkarsatworryingaboutterrorists.Someone
hadtoldhimthatterroristsowingallegiancetoBabbarKhalsaandtheJKLFhadmanagedtoinfiltrate
thejunglesofAssamtojoinlocalgroupsofextremists.
WewerespeedingalongtheNationalHighway.Oneithersideweredistanthills.Thepaddyfields
wereariotofbrilliantcolours,flauntinggoldthentheywouldgrowmodestandhideinBuddhistochre,
orshrinkandfoldintodarkness.EverynowandthenMirajkarwouldjumpup,straininghisearsforthe
soundofgunfire.Thenhedlapseintoareverieagain,lookinggloomilyoutofthewindowatthefields
oratforeststhatteemedwithcotton,khaira,sisoo,holong,poma,bogipoma,bokulandteaktrees.
Eveningwrappedtheteakinshredsofsilkthatthestipplingsunseemedtoturnmagicallyintodeer
skin.
Thedriverbrokethesilence.Lastyear,thisroadwassmearedwithblood.Therewasalways
crossfireofmachineguns,explodinggrenades.Nowitsallquiet.Nooneisseenwithagunanymore.
Yes,noguns.Asifasoftcarpetcovereditallthebloodstains,thedumpsofarmsandammunitions,
thesmellofgunpowder.
Mirajkarsaid,Maybewecantseefirearms,butdidnttheofficeroftheforestdepartmentat
Kaziranga,Mr.Ahmed,saythatthepoacherswerecarryingforeignarms303s,500doublebarrels
and470UScarbinesthatsomesmugglershadbeencaughtatMoriDiphuthattwopoacherswere
shotdead?
MirajkarhadmadeaseriousstudyoffirearmsandnowstartedtellingusstoriesabouttheFirstWorld
War.Ramakanta,thedriver,alsobecameeloquentwithvarioustalesofpoachersfromthebordering
areas.HewasamiddleagedmanwithaNepalicaptoprotecthisbaldingheadfromthesun.Hewas
sturdyandshortwithaneckthatdisappearedintohisshirtcollar.Hehadsmalleyes,liketheother
Bodosofthevalley,andathinmoustache.Hewasagooddriverherarelyusedthebrakeorthe
clutch.
ButmymindwaselsewhereandIdidnotpayanyattentiontothetalksofthegunsandterrorists.I
waswatchingtheforestflitpastoutsidethecarwindow.Isawthegrandveloetreesdrapedinmoss
thatgrewlikehaironthelegsoflongtailedmonkeys.Thereweremanydifferenttrees,somewithwild
creeperstwiningthemselvesaroundtrunksofmugasilk.Sometreeslookedlikemajesticruins
dressedinshimmeringgossamer.Allaroundwasmonochromaticgreen,rangingfromtherichly
succulenttothosethatremindedmeofputhi,thetinyfish.Someleaveswereround,liketheheavy
silvercoinswithQueenVictoriaemblazonedonthem.Andthebirinatreesweresmotheredinwhite
blossomsthatlookedlikecloudsflirtingwiththeearth.
Mirajkarwasstillstaringthroughthewindow.Thesoundofgunfirehere?No,impossible!Comparedto
Delhi,thiswasheaven!Delhi,ah,whocanlivethereanymore?ThebountifulYamunaoftheAfghan
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andTurkPoetshasturnedintoasinkingsewer.SadarBazar,withitsteemingcrowds,isabattlefield.
Gently,almostinvisibly,thesunsraysturnedmild,asifahugepythonhadsheditsglisteningskinand
wasslippingawayintothedarkness.
Hrr,hrr,kut,kut,krrr!Thecarjerkedtoahaltinfrontofathatchedshopbythewayside.Ramakanta
jumpedoutofthecar.Heopenedthebonnetandthencametotellusthattheradiatorwasleaking
andallthewaterinithadevaporated.Nothingelsetodobuttakethecartoagarage.
MirajkarandIgotdownfromthecartowalktowardstwosmalldimlylitshopsthatsoldtender
coconutsandtea.Mirajkarsaid,Itdhavebeenterribleifthecarhadbrokendownintheforest.Look
howdarkitisalready.Inoddedinagreement,whileRamakantapacedupanddownandinandoutof
thesmallroadsideshopsmakingenquiriesaboutagarage.
AllofasuddenascrawnyfigurecameoutofashopalittlefurtherdowntheNationalHighway.He
heldakerosenelampinhishandandworealoosekurtaandadhotithatstoppedathisknee.I
couldntmakeoutifheworeslippers.Hecameuptoourcarandstopped.Helookedoldandfeeble.
Raisinghislanternhesaid,Youhaveabreakdown?Theworkshopissevenmilesaway.WaitIllstop
acarforyou.Thedrivercangoandfetchamechanic,whileyouwillsitinmyshopandhaveacupof
hotteamaybesomebetelnuts,too?
Hestoodrightinthemiddleoftheroadswinginghislantern,hishairknotlooseonhisshoulders.Inthe
flickeringlighthelookedspectral.
MirajkarandIwalkedintohisshop.Onehurricanelamphungfromabamboopole.Itschimneywas
crackedanddirty.Underawoodenbenchwecouldseeanoldstove,somerustedtins.Onthemud
wallwasacalendarwithapictureofawhitewomansmokingacigarette.
Wesatonthebench.Anoldwomanemergedfromtheroominsideholdingalamp.Shesaid,The
wholeoftodaywentbyasifwewerefishingatseanotasoulinsight.
Nocustomers?Iasked,surprised.Shesaid,Therearemanyshopsnowoneithersideoftheroad.
Theyknowhowtoattractcustomers.Theyevenplaymusic!Shesidleduptomeandwhispered.
Theysellevilstuff.ButweareBhakats.Eventhatpicturethere.MyhusbandandIhadabitterquarrel
withourchildrenaboutit.
Shethentookakettleandshuffledoutoftheroomtofetchwaterforourtea.Inthelightofherlantern
wecouldseehertornblouse.Shewaswearingacottonmekhalaandanoldembroideredchaddar
stainedwithbeteljuice.Shecamebackandlitthestove.Perhapsithadnokeroseneandsoona
pungentsmellfilledtheroom.
IfeltbadwhenIsawtheoldwomanarrangingtheglassesandpouringtheteaandthemilkwith
quiveringhands.
Grandma,Isaid,Istherenoonetohelpyou?
Mydaughterinlawusedto,myeldersonswife.Hediedduringthefloodslastyear,ofsome
unknowndisease.Wecouldntgetanymedicineforhim.Thedoctorshaveturneddacoits.Shewas
pregnantwhenhediedandnowshehasason.Shesveryweakcantevenstandonherownfeet!
Istherenooneelse?
Ihavetwosonsandadaughter.Theyusedtotgotoschool.Once.Ah,thingsaredifferentnow.The
girlfellinlovewithasoldierintheIndianarmywhichhadtocomeheretoflushouttheterrorists.The
localboysbeatherup.Sheslimpingbacktonormalhealth.Thelastsevenyearshavebeenhell,
daughter!Thetreacherousriverhadeatenourland.Nowthereisnoriceto
Theoldmanreturned,stillholdingontohislantern.Perhapshehadbeensuccessfulinstoppingacar
andsendingthedrivertofetchamechanic.Hecalledouttohiswifefromwherehestood.Ai,mother
ofNirmali,dontboretheguestswithyoursadtales.Theyretired.Getsometea
Theoldwomangotupabruptlyonseeinghim.Shewenttohimandwhispered,Manoharandsome
othershaveseenhimneartherailwaytrackstoday.
Theoldmanfrozeforasecond.Then,Lasttimetoo,somepeoplesaidtheydseenhimnearthe
railwaytracks.Dontlistentosuchrubbish!hesaid.Goandgettheteaforourcustomers.Theyre
returningfromKazirangaandmustbeverytired.Aretheresomebiscuits?
Biscuits?Allthemoneywentintobuyingsugarandtealeaveslastweek.
MirajkarandIcriedouttogether,No,nodontbother.Evenblackteawilldo.
Theoldwomanmumbledtoherselfasshepreparedthetea,GodaloneknowshowIrunthisshop.
Overthelastsevenyears,theriverhasswallowedupsomuchland.ThatFloodReliefCommitteeset
uptheirofficebytheroadsideandstoppedthemouthsofuspeoplewithamereonehundredrupees."
Theoldmanshouted,"Holdyourtongue,youoldwoman!"
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Shecontinuedasifhehadnotspoken,"Thisoldmanfeelsashamedtotouchthefeetofthose
officials,whohavegobbledupthemoneysanctionedbythegovernmentforfloodrelief.Oh!Wat
hasn'thappenedtothisfamilyinthelastsevenyearsandthismanstrutsaround,hisheadstuffedwith
pastglories.SowhatiftherewasaBorbaruainthefamilywhowentaboutwithagoldtippedwalking
stickandanumbrellawithasilverhandle,whosatonamagnificentcouch...sowhat?Iprodhim
constantlyyetcan'tgethimtogoseethegovernmentofficials...andsowe'vebeensufferingforseven
years...Pleasetellthegovernmentaboutourpitiablecondition.Whenyou..."
Theoldmanlokkedangrilyather.Turningtoushesaid,"Pleaseignoreher.Shestartsbabbling
wheneversheseescustomers.She'dratherhavetouristsgoseethewretchedfloodaffectedpeople
wholivelikeanimalsthangotoKaziranga."Heglaredather."Go,getthetea,fast.Don'tforgettoadd
crushedginger.Ifthere'snoginger,putinoneortwocassialeaves."
ItwasatthatmomentthatIcaughtsightofadotara,hangingfromthewall.Ihadnotnoticedittillthen
becauseitwasbehindthebenchonwhichwesat.Iwassurprisedtoseeitinthemidstofotherodds
andendslikesacks,tinsandcoconutshells.Thetraditionaltwostringedinstrumenthadcarvingsonit
andlookedwellcaredfor.
"Whoplaysthisdotara,dada?"
Abeatificsmilespreadonthefaceoftheoldman.Icouldn'thaveimaginedalittlewhileagothathe
couldsmilelikethat.Hesaid,"AllthepeoplevisitingtheNamgharsonthebankoftheDipholuwere
familiarwiththisinstrumentofmine.Alas,theriverhasswallowedupmanyoftheNamgharsonits
bankArimrah,Holapar,Kohara,Mihimukh...peopleinalltheseplacesknewmydotara.Why,even
thepeopleofBehali,beyondtheBrahmaputra,appreciatedmysongs."
Theoldwomanhadfinishedcrushingtheginger.Shesaidpeevishly,"Theoldmanwillnowstart
braggingaboutthecarvedandmirrorstuddedpalanquin....Theladhasbeengonefortwomonths
nowandmightbewaitingneartherailwaytracks,hungryandemaciated.Thisfossildoesn'twantto
hearaboutthat!"
Theoldmansnarled."Shutup,youoldhag.Takingeonstomaketwocupsoftea!"
ProfessorMirajkarspokeup."I'dliketohearyouplaythedotara."
"Sure,"saidtheoldmanasifhe'dbeenwaitingforsucharequest."Yourmechanicwilltakesome
timetosome.Allthosewhocomeherefortealistentomysongs."
"Customers?Noone'scomehereforthelastmanydays,thoughsomanycarswentpast."grumbled
hiswife.Sheturnedtotheoldmanandsaid,"WhileIgiveteatothecustomers,gototherailway
trackswiththelampforalook.Godknowsyouwon'tgetupifyousitdowntogossipandsing."
"I'veheardthisstorybefore.Somemonthsback,didn'twehearthesamerumour?"Theoldman
mumbledashetookthetwoglassesfromhiswifeandhandedthemovertousrespectfully.Thenhe
saidinarelaxedtone,"Haveyourtea,please.I'llsingnow."Suddenlyayounggirlenteredtheroom,
limping,shecouldwalkonlywiththehelpofastick.Shehadlongsilkyhair.Itwasunattended.Seeing
hertheoldcoupleshouted,"Whyhaveyoucomehere,youbitch!"Wecouldatonceguessthatthis
wasthegirlwhohadanaffairwiththesoldierfromtheIndianarmy,whohadcometoflushoutthe
militantsfromthisarea.
Theteawasexcellent.Theoldmanbroughtthedotara.Ashestartedturningit,hesaid,"Didyouhave
achancetoseetigersinKaziranga?Peoplesaytherewereonlytwentytigerstherein1966.Now
thereareaboutsixty.Rhinoshavegrowninnumberfromthreehundredtoonethousandandfive
hundred.Therearesomefivehundredelephantstoo."
"Wesawsomeelephants,"Isaid."Dotheycomehere,ever?"
"Notthesedays,becauseofthetraffic.Earlier,beforethefloods,theywoulddescendonourpaddy
fieldsandallofusfarmerswouldworktogethertodrivethemaway.Buttigersdocome.Doyouknow
whathappenedjusttheotherday?DimuiguriaMahanta'selephantwastiedtoatreebesidea
roadsidepond.Theelephantisverygentle.Wheneverhe'stakenforabathintheDipholu,heplays
withtehboysandgirlsthere.Hewaslyingbythepondthatdaywhenatigerjumpedonhimandtore
awayawholechunkoffleshfromhisback!"
"OhGod!"Wecriedoutinhorror."Andthen?"
"Elephantsareomniscientcreatures.DidyouknowthatouMoamariarevolutionwherethe
VaishnavitesfoughtagainsttheAhornkingsstartedbecauseofanelepant?"
"Anelephant?"
"Yes.Athinandtotteringelephant.IthappenedduringthetimeofKingLakshminathSinghawho
cametothethroneonlyinhisoldage.Hewasveryfriendlywithhisminister,KirtinathBorbarua.Two
friends.Now,amongtheAhomkings,LakshminathandGaurinathSinghawerethemostugly.Opium
eaters,theycoudbarelykeeptheireyesopen.Gaurinathfanciedafisherwomanwholivedonthe
banksoftheDipholu.Hispalanquinwouldwaitandwaitoutsideherplacewhile..."
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"Whatabouttheelephant?"Iasked.
"KirtinaththeBorbaruahadatusslewiththeMoamariamahantas.Therewasthislawthatsaidthat
themahantasmustmakeapresentofelephantstotheroyalcourtastributeeveryyear.Oncethese
mahantasgaveanold,sickelephanttoBorbarua.Amahantawentwiththistotteringelephanttothe
Borbarua.Whenhesawthericketyoldanimaltheministerwaswildwithrage.Hecutoffhetmahanta
leader'sear."
Theoldwomaninterruptedhimimpatiently."Loppingoffearsindeed!Oldman,forGod'ssake,take
thelampandhavealookaround.Theboymightbelyingsomewhere,hitbymilitarybullets."
Theoldmancontinuedasifshehadnotspoken."InthismonthofAghon,ninethousandMoamaria
soldiersmadeKirtinathaprisonerwhilehewasonhiswaytoRongpur.Andallbecauseofadeformed
elephant,asIsaid!"
Wesattheresippingteaandlisteningtotheoldman.Ramakantadroppedinforawhile,hadhistea
andleft.Hedaid,"It'lltakeatleastoneandhalfhourstofinishthework.Themechanichastakenthe
radiatortotheworkshop."
Theoldwomanapproachedme."Onlyacoupleofcustomershavecometoday.Daughter,mtakeone
moreglassofteaeach.There'ssugarandtealeaves."
Weaskedfortwomorecupsoftea.Meanwhiletheoldmanwastighteningthetwostringsofthe
dotara."Ibarelymanagedtosavethisdotarafromtheflood.There'snooneinthisareawhocan
makeadotaralikethisanymore."
Theoldwomanproddedhimoncemore."I'lllookafterthecustomers.Takethelamp.Gotothe
railwaytracks.Whoknows...whoknows."
Theoldmanexplained,"I'vegonealmostblindandthiswomanwantsmetogointhedarklookingfor
theboy.TheotherdayIfelldownneartherailwaytrackswhenIwentsearchingforhimandmyknees
arestillachingandbruised.Mychesthurtstoo....Listendaughter,weweren'talwayslikethis.It'sthe
floods.It'sapitythatwehavehadtotakeshelterbythehighwayandwaitforcustomersdayafterday!
Wewererespectablepeople.Wehadtwogranaries,fullofpaddy.Evenstrangersweresureofameal
withscentedriceandkaoifish.WecomefromaBorbaruafamilywhohadthepowertopunish
criminalsbycrushingtheirkneecaps.Butmyfatherwaskindhearted.Ifthishadbeendaytime,Icould
havetakenyoutomyhouseandshownyoutheceremonialhatwhichIhavemanagedtoholdonto,
hisumbrellaandsilvervesseladecoratedcouch,thesilverbetelnutholder.Butourpaddyfields,
whichwereasdeartomeasmyownfleshandblood,producinggoldandpearls,andnomore.
Theoldwomanwasfurious.Whyareyoudiggingupthoseoldgraves?I'llmyselfgototherailway
trackstosee...
Shutup,oldwoman.Howmanytimeshaveweheardthistalkofhiscomingback?Butnothing!He
didn'tcomebackorshowhisfacetous.Thesetwogoodpeoplehavecometomyshoptoday.imust
servethemwell,makethemfeelcomfortable.Theoldmanstartedtosingasongcomposedby
PadmapriyatheVaishnavee:
Thisworldisfutile
Likedropsofwater
onalotusleaf
Fatewillmakeus
aheapofashes...
Thislife,thisyouth
isallafleetingdream...
Icouldseethecrisscrossinglinesunderhiseyes.Histeethweremissing,hischeekssunken,making
hisnoselooklongerthanitactuallywas.Hesangasifthesongswouldnevercometoanend.After
Padmapriya'scompositionhesangseveralothersongscomposedbytheVaishnavasaints.IfeltasifI
wassittingonthebankoftheDipholu,watchingthemoonplayinginthewaters.
Welistenedtohissongforaboutanhour,punctuatedbyhiswife'srestlessness.Shesatmuttering,
"Peoplecametosaythathewasseenneartherailwaytracks....Eveniftheladfallsapreytoarmy
bullets,hewon'tcare."
Suddenlytheoldmanstoppedsinging.Mirajkarhastilypulledoutsomemoneyfromthepocketofthis
coatandplaceditinthebetelnuttrayinfrontoftheoldman."omotherofNirmali,"theoldmancalled
out."Keepwhatyouchargefortheteaandreturntherest."TurningtoMirajkarhesaid,"Whydidyou
givesomuchmoney,mydearsir.Mysongsareanechoofthesongsofthesaints.Ithurtsmeif
anyonepaysmemoneyforit.Nooneunderstandsmyfeelings!Noone!"
Theoldwomanwasstaringatthemoney.Shedidn'ttouchit.Shedidn'tspeak.
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Atthatmoment,weheardabigbangfromoutside,asifabombhadexploded!Wefeltasifwewere
beingthrownviolentlytotheground.Fromtheshadowofatreenearbysomeoneemergedandwalked
slowlytowardstheshoptostandbeforeus.Everythinghadhappenedinafractionofasecondand
seeinghisfacenowmythroatwentsuddenlydry.
Hewasayoungboy.Acrosshischeekranadeepgash,fromeyetolipmadebyabulletorasharp
knife.Therewasbloodandpusinit.Thefleshunderhisliplookedasifitbeenrippedopenandwe
couldseehisteethinthequaveringlight.
Iwenttotheoldwomanandtookherhandinmine,grippingittightly.Wewerebothshivering.The
boywaswearingblackjeansandakhakijacket.Andwhatwasthatinhishand?Arevolver?Evenin
thesmokeylightofthekerosenelampthebarrelshone.Theoldwomanburstintoahystericalcry.
"OhmyKanbap,myson!Itoldyourfatherathousandtimestobringyoufromtherailwaytrack.Ohmy
son,whathashappenedtoyou?Whyareyoubleedinglikethis?"
Suddenlytheboy'seyefellonthegirl.Sittinginthecornerandtremblingwithfear.Hespedlikea
bullettowardsthegirlandgrabbingherhair,rainedblowsandkicksonherstomach,shouting:"Iwill
smashyourwomb!Iwillkillthebastardchildofthatsoldieryouarecarrying....Makinglovewithan
Indiansoldier,dirtybitch!Phooh!Phooh!
Hekickedherviciouslyonthestomach
"Ohmy,Ohmy!Hewillkillthegirl...."Theoldparentstriedtopullawaytheenragedyouth.Theboy
didn'tevenlookathismother.Hestaredatthemoneylyingbeforetheoldman.Hepouncedonitlike
avulture.
Theoldmanshouted."Thisisnotmymoney,son.Giveitbacktoourreveredcustomers...."
Theboyignoredhisfather'swords.Hespokeasiftohimself."ThosepoachersaresellingaUS
carbine.It'sanoldgun,butsturdy.Withthismoney."
Hehadcomelikeacyclone.Hedisappearedasswiftly,likeaflashoflightninginadark,stillnight.
Whilewipingofthebloodrunningoutofthewoundsofthegirls,somethinglikeasmilehoveredonthe
lipsoftheoldman.Ihadneverseensuchapainfulsmileinmylife...
MirajkarandIresumedourjourneytowardsGuwahati.Neitherofusspoke.Itwasasifwewere
travellingthroughadarktunnel,endlessly.
TranslatedfromAssamesebytheauthorandM.Asaduddin
IndiraGoswami

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