The Wonder years of growing up in Kokrajhar

Growing up in the sleepy little town of Kokrajhar in the 70s - before Assam agitation was a bliss.

For those who are not familiar with Kokrajhar - in those days Kokrajhar used to be sleepy little subdivisional town in the western edge of Assam with a population not exceeding 20,000. Geographically Kokrajhar is in the Terai region close to the foot hills of Bhutan. The subdivision offered a rich flora and fauna - with an abundance of green vegetation with plenty of streaming rivers, rich wild life such as golden langur, leopards, tigers, wild elephants, deers, the famed Himalayan hornbill. The forest of Ultapani in the foothills of Bhutan does boast the most diverse collection of butterflies in the world.

The diversity in flora and fauna was matched with its ethnic diversity as well. The main ethnic group - Boro Kacharis lived in peaceful co-existence with Koch-Rajbongshis, Rabha, Garo, Bengali, Nath, Nepalis, Santhals, Biharis - each contributing to the cultural diversity of the subdivision.

Crime was virtually unheard of.  So much so that Assam state police personnel - when posted in Kokrajhar - considered it as a leisure posting.  State government officers from all over the state treasured their posting in Kokrajhar town and many of them settled down in that peaceful town.

This was the Kokrajhar of 70s and early eighties where my precious pre teen and teen age years were spent.

Childhood in this town was no less than a blessing.  Although Kokrajhar was very poor in terms of sports and other recreational infrastructure - the youths in Kokrajhar invented their own ways to keep themselves engaged in a variety of activities.

There was no dearth of empty fields - where we used to assemble after school for a game of football in the summer, for cricket and badminton in the winter. Traditional games like kabaddi,  tang-guti (gili-danda) used to happen round the year.

The school I attended - Kokrajhar Boys Government Higher Secondary - was very famous for its football team ( National Subrata Cup Champion) and its NCC (National Cadet Corps) program. Our school had the unique distinction of winning the best NCC team in the annual state wise camp organized in Narengi Army Camp for more than 10 times in a row.  Many cadets represented the Assam state in the Republic Day Parade in New Delhi and eventually went on to join the Indian Armed Forces.

Those of us - who participated in the NCC program - used to assemble for basic military drill and march in the school ground after the academic instructions.  The biggest attraction was the warm Kachoori or Samosa that was served after the basic drill as a refreshment.

Bi-cycling was also a big part of growing up. We would often form a group and take a 8 km ride to the Baukhungri hills which offered some excellent hiking and picnic spots. In the New Year eve, we would pitch a tarpaulin tent and feast out. Small games such as rabbits or pigeons hunted with sling-shots or bows added to the menu.  There were leopards and reportedly even tigers in that forest, but who cared -- we carried our khukris and sling-shots :) But lucky us - we never had any encounter with those big cats.

That was the era when "Enter The Dragon" and Bruce-Lee became a craze. Kokrajhar did not yet have a martial arts school.  But a cousin of mine did procure a book called "Manual of Karate" by Masoyama - which we studied back to back.  Four of us would assemble in a nearby semi forest adjacent to the town where we had dug out a "dojo" on the ground and practice Kyokushinkai style of Karate going by instructions in the book. That resourceful cousin of mine - thanks to his elder brother who was in St Edmunds, Shillong - even procured the famous "Guerilla Warfare" by Che Guevara. We studied that book as well and played war games with dummy rifles carved out of wood. We learnt how to dig in foxholes, lay booby traps, set up ambush and basic survival techniques. We even became quite adapt in rope climbing, Tarzan rope swing techniques. Every other day -- we would have full contact sparring without any gear and come back home with bruises and bloodied noses :) We used to call our 4 member club as "Hidden Hunters" or HH for short. We all aspired to be commandos in the Indian Army. We were in grade 8.

And book lovers we were ! Devoid of the gadgets such as video games or TVs, we literally feasted on comics and story books. Though Kokrajhar was a small town, it had a decent library which had a nice collection of Assamese and Bengali books which we literally devoured. Also it had a small little bookstore called "Binoda Bhandar" - which used to sell Phantom and Mandrake comics published by a publisher called Indrajal Comics.  My father used to occasionally bring Asterix Oblix, Tin Tin and War Comics from Guwahati - which were of course special treats. 

The only commercial form of entertainment available in Kokrajhar township was movies. At one point of time Kokrajhar boasted of 3 movie theaters which screened mostly Hindi movies. Movie halls were always very crowded and one had to indulge in literally a wresting of sorts to manage movie tickets.  One famous IPS officer - Daulat Singh Negi, SP in Kokrajhar - had quipped "The biggest policing job was maintaining a queue in movie ticket counters" . The blockbusters of that era were "Sholay", "Julie", "Yado Ki Barat", "Noorie", "Hum Kissisey Kum Nahin".  A few of the naughty and adventurous ones would bunk classes and take a train ride to nearby town of Bongaigaon  where for some reason movies were released a bit early compared to Kokrajhar.

Festivals were always fun of course.  Be it the Bihu, Durga Puja, Kali Puja or Saraswati Puja. Saraswati Puja used to be my favorite. Well, not because of any religious reason - but mainly because you were not supposed to do any class work on that day and it provided us with the rare opportunity to make a trip to the Girls' School - where the girls would be dressed in their best "grown up costumes". It was sort of our "Valentine Day".  Days before the Puja -- we would work to collect bamboos to set up the pandal, collect banana leaves for serving the "khisdi". We could of course procure the bamboos or  the banana leaves from our neighborhood.  But then it was always a fun to do a 8 km hike to Baukhungri hills with khukri to collect those from the forest. We would bring the idol - and camp out in the school on the pretext of guarding the idol where we would cook "khisdi".

The story of those teen age days would go incomplete unless I mention about group tete-e-tete sessions we had around the hang-out spots in different parts of the town.  One popular spots were "Akaashbaani" - the shop that used to sell radios and gramophone records  in near the police point. They literally used to blast out the popular numbers of that era. Us teen agers would hangout listening to the blaring music. Other popular spot was the railway overpass and many culverts in the township. Every evening, different groups of teenagers would assemble in their favorite hangout joints and literally discuss any topics you could even imagine - from movies to sports to academics to their heart throbs of the opposite sex.  What was always missing was the politics.  And true to Kokrajhar's reputation of being a town of communal harmony - the groups of teen agers were always multi ethnic.

Such was Kokrajhar of the 70s and early 80s - the wonder years of childhood I would not trade with anything else.

Heavenly Nightmare

Last night woke up with a terrible nightmare.

My time was over. Well, that wasnt that bad after all. 

But something terrible happened afterwards. 

Clerical error put me in the wrong bus and I was in heaven instead of hell- where I had so meticulously reserved a spot.

As I reached the Heaven, I immediately knew was in a wrong place. 

There were true blue faithful Christians, Muslims, Hindus and Jews. Exactly the crowd I struggled so hard to stay away from during my brief life.

The Library was awful - just 4 boring books - each of which claimed to contain everything you need to know.

First stepped into the Christian zone. They were still euphoric about the God agreeing to their demand of painting every corner of their quarter with bright white paint - which they claimed will make their quarter great again.

They were regular church going evangelical conservatives and hardcore NRA members who swore by their 2nd amendment and right to carry assault weapons along with their King James version. They thought war was essential for economy and proudly declared themselves as "Pro Life" . They were hell bent on building a wall in their Christian Quarter to keep the Hindus and Muslim residents of heaven out of their zone and wanted to make the Hindus and Muslims pay for it. They only believed in a Judeo-Christian Heaven. Others like me were considered as the unwanted intruders  to a Judeo-Christian heaven. 

I hurried out of the Christian zone and stepped into the Hindu zone. There were people in khaki chaddis who have heroically took part in pitched battles while defending Gaumatas. Theirs was the only zone in heaven which had great looking bars with cool hookah offering smokes of marijuana and bhang brownies. Marijuana initiated the take off and the bhang in the brownie helped ascent to a height that I never scaled before. 

Now was the time to taste the beer. The Apsara at the counter appeared every bit of the Mohini - which Vatsyana has so graphically narrated in the Kamasutra. I asked her for a large pint and she obliged with a mysterious smile. And then 

!!! A THUD AND A THOUSAND YUCKS !!!!

What the heck was that ? Did she just say that was gaumutra (cow piss) ? Quick -- tell me -- where is the rest room and the sink ?

As I emerged out from the rest room after emptying out my bowel, I could see the commotion coming out from the Muslim Quarter. The latest batch of fedayeen members from ISIS were clearly unhappy and loudly expressing their displeasure. They had run short of virgin maidens, after all 72 "houris" for each could surely constraint the supply logistics .

Someone whispered in my ear -- "You better scoot" . This bunch of desperados could even target unsuspecting male denizens of jannat from the south to vent out their frustration. Terrified -- I darted out as I saw one of these fedayeen slowly land his steps towards my direction.

As I was stepping into the Jewish quarter -- my good and faithful Dog Mako came to my rescue. He realized I was sweating and tossing and turning all over in a terrible nightmare. 

And I was so thankful that he used his good judgement to lick me all over my face to wake me out of that hell called the heaven where all these believers land up.

Case of a mistaken identity : my brush with law

Well, of late there has been several news headlines centered around Indians from the North East part of India subjected to racial profiling in the rest of India because of their oriental looks. The North Eastern Indians form about 3% of the Indian population and a good chunk of them have oriental features and they are often taunted as "Chinkies" in the rest of India.  The latest brouhaha occurred during the last assembly election in Delhi when the ruling party in center (the federal government) addressed the North Eastern residents in Delhi as "immigrants".

I have spent a good deal of time in various parts of India away from the North East India -- and luckily I have never been subjected to any kind of racial profiling.  Even during my long stay in the United States of America - I have not encountered any racial prejudice.

Well, except perhaps one incident - which I am not sure if you can call a case of racial profiling.

Way back in our early days at New Jersey - before we were blessed with our kids - we (me and my wife Malabika) used to reside in an apartment complex in Plainsboro, New Jersey.  We both used to work in New York city and used to take the train from Princeton Junction.

We used to park our car in the train station at Princeton Junction and we used to meet up at the station in the evening and would share a ride home, We were quite party animals and every Friday evening we would directly head out to party (after meeting up at the station) and return home at the wee hours of the morning and wake up really late in the afternoon on Saturdays.

On one of such Saturday's - we woke up with a rather forceful knock on the door.

"Who on earth could dare to sabotage our blissful slumber of a lazy Saturday morning" - crossed my mind before I consulted my watch which showed 11:00 AM.

As I waddled through the unkempt apartment rubbing my sleepy eyes - the knock only got stronger and when I opened the door -- saw this police officer from the township at the door.

"May I help you officer" - I inquired with a distinct annoyance which I am sure was difficult to hide.

"May I come in" - he demanded.

"Sure of course" -- well, did I have a choice (?)

 "Do you go to New York for work?" - he inquired.

"Yes.  Me and my wife we both commute to New York for work."

"Did you take a cab in New York yesterday? May be you dropped something in the cab?"

"Well, I did not take a cab in New York yesterday.  But my wife did. She was late catching the train and rather than the usual subway to the New York Penn station, she hired a cab from her work to the Penn Station. Do you want to talk to her?"

"No.  I am asking YOU" - the officer replied.

The officer continued - "See someone hired a cab from New York to this apartment complex last night and reached around 1:30 AM in the morning. He said he needs to pick up money from his apartment and told the cabbie to wait. He came towards this apartment and disappeared. Then the cabbie called us. The description of the passenger matched yours."

"And what might that description be?" - I demanded.

"A guy in mid twenties from India who goes to New York for work and lives in this side of the apartment complex. We asked your neighbor if any Indian lives in this part of the complex and he pointed that a young Indian couple lives in this apartment who commute to New York. We came and knocked at the door but no one opened."

"Of course we did not open the door only because we were out partying and did not return home till 3:30 AM in the morning."

The officer realized he did not have much ground to pursue the allegation and left.

And we continued with our daily routine until the next Wednesday.  When we reached home and checked the voicemail in our answering machine of the phone, there was a message from the township detective and the message was quite threatening.

"Mr. Brahma - we do not want to embarrass you by coming to your apartment. But we believe we have strong evidence against you for jumping the fare with the cabbie and you better comedown to the township police station".

We immediately rushed to the township police station and the detective took me to the interrogation room.  He basically asked me the same question over and over again and stated - "Look Mr. Brahma, it is just a matter of 150-200 dollars of cab fare and if you admit, we can end the matter right here. You are in mid 20s, an Indian, go to New York to work and live in that section of the apartment complex.  That is too much of a coincidence."

And I kept on repeating the same statement I had been making - "No it wasn't me and why should I admit. I was at my friends place at the party and you can check with my host. I might even be in the recordings of his new camcorder where you will see me doing some wild dance moves at the party. "

Then he said - "Let me take a mug shot of you and show it to the cabbie - who happens to be a Pakistani." and took my mug shot.

That's when I got little scared.  I wouldn't recognize the mug shot of the cabbie I had hitched a ride the next day if it was shown to me.  What if the cabbie forgets the face of the passenger and says it might have been me ?

The next day I did not go to work but contacted a lawyer just in case. I spoke to my friends with whom we partied on the fateful night and requested them to come to my deference should the necessity arise.  I also spoke to my neighbor Mike who had told the police the apartment (ours) where an Indian couple that commute to New York reside.

Any how, the detective was kind enough to call a few days later and declared I was off the hook.

He said -- " We had shown your mug shot to the Pakistani cabbie and on seeing your face -- he remarked - 'Come on officer.  I told you he was an Indian. THIS GENTLEMAN IN THE PICTURE IS A CHINESE'".


Postlude:

After a few days - the gentleman(??) tried the same trick once again.  This time my neighbor Mike was outside his apartment smoking a cigarette, He noticed a young Indian man of mid 20s getting out of the cab, making the cab wait and heading towards my apartment. He had become a little suspicious and since he knew what had happened earlier, decided to peek where the gentleman was headed. The gentleman headed towards my apartment, but changed course and headed to an apartment in another section of the complex. The cabbie again waited in vain and called the police. Only this time, my neighbor Mike led the cabbie and the police to the "right" apartment and the gentleman was caught red handed.

I did not think it was worthwhile finding out what happened to that gentleman.

Kokrajhar Diaries : The Introduction

For those who are not able to place Kokrajhar in the map - it is a medium sized town (population about 35000) in the North Eastern part of India. In fact Kokrajhar is the first major town when you enter into the North Eastern India through the Indian Railways.

The very name of Kokrajhar today evokes ethnic strife, insurgency, disturbance, bandhs etc. For past two decades the image of Kokrajhar has been transformed from obscurity to national headlines (and some times international) often for reasons which were not reflective of the qualities its denizens were known for. Though backward in terms of economic development and infrastructure - Kokrajhar was well known for communal harmony (where the majority inhabitants -the Bodos lived in complete harmony with other communities such as Rajbongshis, Bengalis, Kalitas, Deshi Muslims, Rabhas, Adivashis, Biharis, Bengalis), a temperate climate, low crime rate, abundance of flora and fauna, finest timbers, some finest picnic spots in the dooars (the foothills of Bhutan), football (my school Kokrajhar Government Higher Secondary had won the state championship for football multiple times and even the national championship - the Subrata Cup) and producing some finest soldiers who served the Indian Army since the colonial days (the NCC wing of Kokrajhar Government Higher Secondary had won the best team award in the annual NCC camp held at Narengi Army camp near Guwahati many times).

Government employees (mostly state government employees and teachers employed in the educational establishments of the town) - cherished their idyllic posting in Kokrajhar and  many of them had purchased land and property to settle down in Kokrajhar town. In Kokrajhar you could find people from all over Assam, Bengal and Bihar who had settled down for the idyllic and peaceful environment it had to offer and started calling her their home. 

Government apathy and some complex socio-economic dynamics have transformed the "abode of peace" into an area which has witnessed an undue share of political turmoil often coupled with "ethnic clashes, insurgency and human rights abuse".

The purpose of this "Kokrajhar Diaries" is not to get into a socio-economic-political discussion on what forces actually turned this "abode of peace" into what it is today - but to provide a glimpse of those "wonder years" which our generation had experienced growing up in Kokrajhar.

Those who were born in mid sixties and have spent their formative years in seventies and eighties in Kokrjhar, have witnessed the transformation of this nondescript idyllic town into a bustling town with brazen commercialization and corrupt nouveau rich flaunting their acquired riches - but at the same time pushing some of the intrinsic qualities of Kokrajhar into oblivion.

Flora and fauna of Kokrajhar area has depleted at an alarming rate. There are hardly any forests to support the trade of the finest quality of timber and wooden furniture Kokrajhar was well known for. Gone are the days when you would see parents allowing their children to explore the surroundings on their own to play and make friendship with other children solely based on their mental compatibility in complete disregard to their ethnic background.  Gone are the days when murders and other major crimes were absolutely rare.

If I could relive my childhood -- it would only be in the idyllic town of Kokrajhar in the era we were fortunate to grow up.

In "Kokrajhar Diaries" I would attempt at creating fictions based on those "wonder years"  of late sixties and seventies when it was a blessing to grow up in the once "abode of peace".


Please stay tuned for "Kokrajhar Diaries : The wonder years".

Controlled Chaos

My wife and I are "suspense buffs" when it comes to catching TV serials.  We had discovered "24" much later then when it was originally aired - but once we "discovered" it - we got hooked. The site "hulu.com" had the entire set of past episodes and we spent nights watching the episodes one after another.  For those who are not familiar with "24" -- it is an American television series produced for the Fox network starring Kiefer Sutherland as Counter Terrorist Unit agent jack Bauer. Each 24-episode session covers 23 hours in the life of Bauer, using real time narration.

The other episode that is our favorite is "Castle" - a detective serial aired by ABC where the NYPD homicide detective Kate Bekkett (Stana Katic) goes around solving cases in NYC along with Richard Castle (Nathan Fillion).

Of the "Castle" episodes I have watched - one of my favorite was one where Bekkett and Castle unearth and of course foil a conspiracy to wage a war against the United States using applied "Chaos Theory" -- which termed as "Lynchpin Theory" in the episode.

For those who might not be familiar with the term "Chaos Theory" - it is a field of study in mathematics, with applications in several disciplines including meteorology, sociology, physics, engineering, economics, biology, and philosophy. Chaos theory studies the behavior of dynamical systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions—a paradigm popularly referred to as the butterfly effect. Small differences in initial conditions (such as those due to rounding errors in numerical computation) yield widely diverging outcomes for such dynamical systems, rendering long-term prediction impossible in general. One good theoretical illustration of the chaos theory is the "Butterfly Effect" - a term coined by Edward Lorenz - an atmospheric scientist.  "A wing flap by a large Butterfly in Brazil can cause a Tornado in Texas several weeks later". 

Coming back to the particular episode in "Castle" -- a very smart mathematician comes out with an applied model of Chaos Theory in socio-economic and political context where he can identify a "Lynchpin Event" - wherein by executing a seemingly low impact and low effort action you can trigger a series of events with increasing intensity which ultimately results in a major event with far reaching consequences.   

The CIA recruits the mathematician and he becomes the mastermind in identifying “Lynchpin Events” that the CIA executes to topple governments, cause the Arab Spring etc etc to serve the interest of the US government.

But the mathematician had also identified a “Lynchpin Event” – which can destroy the US. The event involves the killing of an innocent 5 year old daughter of a Chinese tourist on the US soil. The particular 5 year old happened to be the daughter of a Chinese citizen who works for the Chinese Treasury Department and instrumental in influencing the Chinese Government where to invest the government surplus. According to the “Lynchpin” events – as a result of killing – the bereaved father will stop advising against Chinese Government buying the US Treasury Bills – which will lead to weakening of the US dollar – inflation in the US – the US government ultimately going bankrupt – civil war in the US - the 3^rd world war – and eventually the US surrendering and getting dissolved as a nation.

A terrorist organization gets access to the “Lynchpin Event” that can destroy the US and the castle episode revolves around that.  Needless to say – Bekket and Castle foil the attempt of the attempt and saves the day.  

The above episode might have been a fiction. But if you do look at the history of the world, perhaps such "Lynchpin" events are a plenty. Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire by the Serbs in 1914 sparked a series of events which led to the first world war that ultimately killed 17 million people world wide. 

Perhaps even in our own life we can see some "Lynchpin" events. 

For me it all started with the extra few pieces of chilly pickle I had consumed before boarding my train on my return journey to Kanpur (where I was attending college) after the mid term break. My mother had told me repeatedly not to consume those extra pieces of chilly pickles especially before boarding the train. But then those chilly pickles were so good that I could not resist my temptation and helped myself with as many as I can.

Soon after I boarded the train -- I realized that my system was not too receptive with those chilies and had to relieve myself more often -- actually make that many times more often -- than what I normally do. And if you are familiar with the Indian railway carriages -- each carriage (called compartments in Indian Railway lingo) has 2 toilets for perhaps 100 passengers if you happen to travel in the 2nd class. 

Perhaps many more had consumed chilly pickle that particular day and I had to travel a good 4 compartments before I could find a toilet that was not occupied. In that compartment there she was -- a dainty little high school student with pony tails and large innocent eyes.  Our eyes met right after I had relieved myself from those "chilly effect" and events followed one after another and now I am typing the blog "Controlled Chaos".

And I blame it on the "Chilly Pickles" - my "Lynchpin".

Midnight Fiasco

Getting into silly fiasco have proven to be more of a norm than an exception for the Brahma family of Burlington, New Jersey. And they  often surface at the oddest of places and at the oddest of times.  Such an incident occurred at the local multiplex theatre when on a Friday night the we (the Brahmas') decided to catch late night show of an Indian movie.

For last several years we have been living in Burlington, New Jersey -- which has such a sizeable Indian population that the local Regal theatre can afford to run regular Indian films on the screen. I am not personally a big fan of Indian movies, but my wife Malabika is definitely a big Salman Khan fan and she would spare no one in the family when a movie starring Salman Khan is released. The rest of the poor family have little choice but get dragged into the theatre.

This fiasco occurred when "Ek Tha Tiger" - starring Salman Bhai and Katrina Kaif was released. I would not dare my bliss by writing review on any movie starring Salman but did definitely felt very fresh and relaxed after catching a much needed nap at the theatre while my wife was enjoying every bit of the thrill, suspense and romance the movie had to offer. Our youngest son (Jeehan 5 yrs at that time) was still sound asleep when the movie finally ended past 1AM and I had to carry him to the car.

My wife stepped into the driver's seat and my daughter got into the front passenger seat. I opened the driver side rear seat and placed my son in the car seat and closed the door and as I was proceeding to the other side of the car -- my wife took off with the car thinking that I had already boarded. The music was on and she could not hear my shout --- "Hey stop you are leaving me behind".

Then I started running after the car which had already accelerated and my wife is a firm believer in putting good use to the car's feature of reaching 0-60 mph in 6 seconds.

As I was running behind the speeding car shouting "Hey stop stop you are leaving me behind " , I saw a curious police officer (his patrol car parked in front of the movie theatre) . He approached me with a grin and asked "What up Sir. You seem to be having a problem here ?"

I said -- "Sure officer. My wife just left me behind and can't even call her. My phone is dead -- I had let my son play that Angry Bird app which drained all my battery."

Officer -- "You sure do have a problem. Are you sure your wife really wants you back ?"

I said -- "Well. I am sure she does. If you wanna verify -- why don't you give me a ride ?"

The officer flashed a wide grin and said -- "Sure do hop in."

So the police car turned the red lights and siren on and we were soon cruising down the road chasing my family in the family car.

Soon we caught up with my wife. And you should have seen my wife's face when she suddenly saw me emerging out of the cop car. 

Till then she hadn't realized that I was left behind.

The officer flashed a wide smile and warned my wife -- "Next time I will ticket you for leaving your hubby behind".

"Home of the Great Spirit"

"Damn it. There she goes - my prospect for a much needed rest."

But that was a cry of amusement rather than despair.

Even the sight of his sole shelter - the hiking tent - getting blown away by a strong gust had failed to evoke any serious despair or panic in him. The prospect of spending a lonesome night in freezing Mt. Washington without a tent would certainly not be very welcoming to any person with a sane mind. But on that fateful evening, he considered it just another mishap that was in tandem with the storm his mind was going through of late.

Mt. Washington is the tallest peak in the North Eastern USA. Although at 6,288 ft the summit was not particularly tall by the Himalayan standards, the hike in early November had proved to be quite arduous for him. The winter had set in early that year and the wind did live up to its reputation of being most erratic. As a matter of fact - on April 12, 1934, a weather observatory on the summit had recorded the highest wind gust directly measured at the Earth's surface - 372 km/h or 103 m/s. The native Americans had avoided climbing the summit and believed it to be an abode of spirits and named it Agiocochook -  "Home of the Great Spirit".

He was not much of an experiened climber. But, climbing Mt. Washington under most arduous conditions was a pilgrimage - perhaps that would help him regain the sanity he had lost. He had likened it to a pilgrimage the Hindus and the Buddhist  undertake to the Mt Kailash with the hope that it would purify their mind and bring them good fortunes.


An immigrant from India, he had lived in Chester County, Pennsylvania, with his wife and a five year old son. Theirs' was an arranged marriage. He was still recovering from the culmination of a long term relationship with his girl friend when he finally consented to his parent's suggestion to an arranged marriage with a decent girl of their choice.

Like most of the girls of India, she had entered into the marriage with an intention to start her life as a caring  wife and a daughter-in-law to his parents. But perhaps he was not ready for a married life. His actions, his treatments towards the newly wed wife lacked the warmth that a lover would offer towards a woman he loved - or perhaps even that of a husband towards a lady that deserved the due respect of a wife. There were moments when he noticed her moist eyes - but she never failed to provide the support  and care a loving wife and daughter-in-law would carry out. And that was not an act carried out because she had a "duty to fulfill" - it was an act that spontaneously resulted from someone who was truly in love and believed in making a family.

It took some time for him to really fall in love with her. He realized she was the best thing that has happened to him. Like most marriages - they had their share of fights and disagreements. But he realized he was with a woman he loved and trusted and who also shared the same feelings towards him. He felt deeply repentant towards the pains she might have gone through during the initial phases of marriage when his actions failed to reciprocate her showering of love and affection.

The decade long marriage had proved to be the most wonderful blessing of his life. He considered his family the pillar of his life and every aspect of his life revolved around it.

"The true meaning of joy" - he had started believing - "resulted from sharing the each and every moment of life with your family".

They would dearly looked forward to the evenings - when the family will reassemble after the day's engagement with work and school - to share their "moments" over their day. They would look forward to their week-ends when the family would get involved in activities surrounding their only son and with the a bunch of family friends they socialized with. Even after a decade of marriage, some time they would spend hours - till the wee hours in the morning - sharing the most mundane details of their life.  They never seemed to run out of topics to discuss.

However, of late, he was not in much of communication with his wife - other than the bare minimum logistical issues concerning home and child management.

Gone were the days when sounds of joy would reverberate across their little suburban abode. Gone were the days the stillness of the wee hours of the morning would be interrupted by the soft whispers of two souls engaged in sharing the smallest aspects of their life. Gone were the days when their souls - though separate in  physical existence - yet rhymed in unison.

An eerie silence replaced what used to be the sound joy between the two.

The root of all problems lay in the age of Indian system of dowry - which was prevalent from the north Indian province of India they hailed from. Unlike most of the arranged marriages, their wedding had taken place without any exchange of dowry - which his father was strongly against. 


But about two years back - in one of the family gatherings in India, one of his relatives - an elderly lady - made a derogatory remark against her about not bringing any dowry in presence of his mother, her mother-in-law. She expected her mother in law to stand in support with her. But her mother-in-law uttered no word.


To her - his mother failed to behave in a way that accorded the proper respect which she - the daughter in law of the family - deserved. That left her devastated and she turned to him to make his mother understand where she had failed.  It was not that she wanted to go in for a confrontation with her mother in law, but she wanted him to make his mother realize where she had erred. 

But true to his up bringing as a most obedient child, he was unable to  take a stand against his mother. In the traditional Indian value system - you are not encouraged to make a stand against your elders - especially against your parents. You may be in disagreement - but you do not take a stand. You protest in your mind. You do not display your resentment - that will be like showing your disrespect towards them.


He had failed to comprehend the degree of pain his his mother's treatment inflicted on her daughter in law. He was initially even in denial that his mother could offer such treatment towards her own daughter in law. He had considered it to be a utterly trivial incident which will be forgotten in due course.


But the wounds were much deeper than he realized. But his wife failed betrayed by her mother in law's treatment and his indifference.


He felt as if he was torn between the only 2 women that mattered the most in his life - his mother and his wife.


They gradually started to drift away.  The incident proved to be the sole thorn of a conjugal life where otherwise two souls had taken complete refuge in each other.


Then about three months back he discovered something quite accidentally that proved shattering to a mind already tormented by the drift that that had surfaced between him and his wife.


His wife had procured the new version of the iPhone that she left on the kitchen counter top when she had gone to take her shower. 


They had maintained no "element of privacy" in their relationship and used to share everything - even their email accounts. While playing around with various features of his wife's new phone, he accidently noticed a few email and text conversations between his wife and an "unknown gentleman" that had crossed the boundary of normal friendship. 


He realized that his wife had started relying on the "unknown gentleman"  more than him in the recent past for her emotional support.  He felt that he was no more the person she would share the mundane details of her everyday life -- his positional was being replaced by the "unknown gentleman".


He felt the earth shatter under his feet.


He did confront his wife over it. And she was as candid as she had always been towards him. She expalined that the "unknown gentleman" was a senior from the college days for whom she had an infatuation and apparently he shared the same towards her. But they never expressed that to each other. They got reconnected over Facebook recently and started exchanging notes.

She did acknowledge that in her weak moments – when he was not the most accommodating and understanding companion that she had always expected him to be  - they did exchange as few notes confiding the feeling they had for each other during the college days. It was nothing but reminiscent of the moments of infatuation they shared in the distant past. After all, she was just seeking some emotional support that she did not receive from her own husband – but with no other ulterior motive. In any case, there was nothing serious going between her and the “unknown gentleman" and it was just an avenue for letting her steam off.

She did retain hope that time will fade away the "cloud of doom and gloom" that is casting over their marital bliss. The “other gentleman” would no way come in disturbing their marital bliss - it solely rested on their own hands. That incident would have never happened had she not lost the faith and trust on him - for not standing up for her.  

His mind knew she meant every bit of truth. And he did acknowledge that such an incident is quite a normal reaction from any individual with wounded heart.


But his heart failed to accept it. His heart could not bear to see his position in her life overtaken by an "unknown gentleman".  

A shadow of doubt started haunting his mind over his wife's faithfulness towards him. He was not sure whether it was jealousy or the suspicion - but he realized the incident had contributed in drifting them even more.

That's when he decided he needed some time to get away from home - alone. Some place where he could go and explore his soul and listen to what it had to say. Some place that will rejuvenate his heart and fill with resolve to work on restoring his mind. 

He filled up his back pack with some late fall clothes, some dry food, a flash light and a hunting knife. He decided to carry his tent just in case he decided to do some camping - a favorite summer time activity of the family


He announced that he will be gone for a couple of days - for a voyage of self introspection.

He could see her eyes turning moist. She inquired with genuine concern if he had carried everything that he needed. But, thankfully, did not ask where he was headed. He was relieved that she did not - he himself did not know where exactly he would be heading for. 


She softly said - "Take care of yourself when you are gone. Hope this trip of provides you with all the solace you need".

As he started his car, he caught the glimpse her glancing through the window. Can a short trip of solitude really succeed in cleansing a mind clouded by the mist of suspicion? 


He wasn't sure. Neither was she.

After a good 2 hours of driving aimlessly in the back roads of Pennsylvania -- he decided may be Mt. Washington would not be a bad destination after all. Even in the middle of the Summer, it was by no means considered an easy climb. In the Winter it would  be certainly an even more difficult for novice climbers like him. But that’s exactly what he was looking for - an ardous expedition that perhaps would  offer a life altering experience.

He concluded - a life altering experience is what he needed - something that would help restore his soul and reassure him of the sole purpose of his existence - a blissful existence with his wife.

He realized the 'devil was inside his mind, not inside his soul'.

He had reached the Mt Washington area of New Hampshire after a good 9 hours of overnight drive. 

As the first light of the day appeared, New Hampshire greeted him with wonders of nature in abundance – picturesque rolling hills, snow capped peaks, streams with crystal clear water and colorful rock bed winding their way down the mountain slopes, lush green meadows, mesmerizing woods that have shed their leaves in preparation for the winter snow yet preserved their pristine looks. This was the same area where they had spent a wonderful one week in their much happier days. Both of them were ardent lovers of nature. Visiting the pristine national parks – far away from dins of human civilization – used to be their favorite vacation destinations.

A stream in particular had such mesmerizing appeal on him that it almost aroused his most primordial urge to seek its source – as if the source of the crystal clear water will also succeed in cleansing his mind. Upon consulting the GPS device in his Android phone, he figured that it will be one night and 2 days hike to reach its source and come back.

He parked his car in a nearby strip mall and started his hike along the stream. He carried enough supply of energy bars and waters to last through the hike. He planned to seek it’s source – camp by it over the night and then return to the parking lot for a homeward bound journey – hopefully with a fresh mind.

As he started his hike, the sun was slowly ascending to its zenith. Silver-grey boulders lay tumbled along the track. There was no sound of civilization but of the whispering winds and the monotonous yet gentle sound of the stream winding down the mountain. Underfoot the stones glistened with quartz.

The hike offered a raw exhilaration for his tormented soul. The arduousness associated with the steep climb was what he was looking for. There were times when the climb was almost at a gradient of 70 degrees. Then the gentle sound of the stream would change into a deafening roar. The wind, as was expected in the slopes of Mt Washington, was erratic, strong and chilly. As he reached the higher elevation of 5000 feet, the vegetation gradually changed from Alpine to Tundra – with bush type vegetation. Given the latitude of Mt Washington in far north, Tundra like vegetation appears at a much lower elevation than what you would expect in the Himalayas. The view from the mountain was astonishing – a landscape with rolling hills all over, deep gorges and small lakes bearing the legacy of the glacial activity from the last ice age, meadows spread over acres, alpine forests of the lower elevation.

It was almost evening when he finally reached the source of the mystical stream. It was a small lake which was perpetually supplied with water from the underground natural reservoir and snows that adorned the mountain.

He decided to pitch the tent before the nightfall.  As he unfolded the tent and was about to secure its strings on the ground, suddenly a strong gust of wind lifted up the tent and blew it over the deep gorge!

Luckily enough he still had his sleeping bag and the back-pack where he carried the dinner – few packs of energy bars and a bottle of brandy to keep himself warm.

Slowly darkness descended on the mountain and the chilly wind picked up its erratic velocity. As the darkness grew, the clear night sky adorned itself with bright twinkling stars but engulfed the mountain with a chill that he was not prepared with.  His light fall time clothing was certainly not warm enough to protect him from the chill and wind of Mt Washington.

He checked the thermometer app in his phone and it read 21 degrees Fahrenheit – well below the freezing point of 32 degrees Fahrenheit. He realized at that temperature when he is exposed to strong wind without the shelter of a tent,  it was imperative to stay awake if he had to survive through the night. If he fell asleep, he would almost certainly go into hypothermia and freeze to death.

He realized the need to stay awake and warm – though it would be a challenge after a tiring hike throughout the day and the long overnight drive. He flashed his flash light and looked for some dry branches and bushes to light up a much needed fire. He collected some dry branches and bushes and tried in vain to light a fire for nearly an hour or may be more. To his utter dismay and horror, he only managed to damage the cigarette lighter in the process. And that was the only instrument in his possession to light up the much needed fire for survival on the freezing mountain top.

He huddled tightly under his sleeping bag but was afraid he might lose his battle to stay awake. Hypothermia was a certainty if he fell asleep. He sipped some brandy to keep warm. But he realized he should not drink more than a sip or two.  The last thing you wanted was to get drunk and fall asleep.

He started to gaze at the stars and think of his wife and the kids. How he wished he could call his wife or send her a text expressing his love for her and the kids. But there was no cell phone signal in that area.

He proceeded to the stream to splash some cold water on his face to stay awake. 


As he was about to stoop with cupped hands to scoop some water from the icy stream, he suddenly felt the presence of a person standing in front of him.

He was startled. A person is the last thing he expected at that hour and place.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” – he inquired while reaching out to his hunting knife incase of any adverse eventuality.

“I am Aha-ka-toon-ka – The Whispering Wind – of the Abenaki Indian Tribe. I am the medicine man and I have come here to look for certain plants that need to be collected at this hour of the night. I saw the flash light and realized there was some one who might need my help. You have nothing to worry from me – my son” – replied the man with a soft, assuring, kind yet a firm voice.

With his long hair, weather beaten face with a reddish tan, an aquiline nose and the traditional costume – he looked every bit of an elderly native American chief – the ones he had seen in doing powwow dances in the native American festivals and museums.  

Aha-ka-toon-ka presented such an aura of composure and kindness that he did not feel much threatened by the sudden appearance of an unknown person almost out of nowhere. Or perhaps he was in such a state of despair, he could not be threatened by anything anymore.  

“Excuse my ignorance. But I did not know there are native American reservations in this area” – he added.

“We have been always around and our spirits will always roam around these mountains – my son. We will always be around – physically and spirituality. In the great circle of life – no one enters and no one exits” – replied Aha-ka-toon-ka.

“I can see that you are struggling to light a fire to keep yourself warm. My son, you will definitely not survive the night without a fire and our native American skill will definitely come to some use in this regard.”

He watched in amazement as Aha-ka-toon-ka proceeded to light up a much needed fire using the tools his people had been using since time immemorial. As the medicine man was lighting up the fire, he started to recite an Abenaki hymn:

          Kassiwi  Niona  Enna  Odakozik  Chibaio  Agaskwikok

          Kizos   Aalakws   Nionakiya   Alnobanogan   Nionakiya

          ……

In the heart of the still dark night, the Abenaki hymn combined with the perpetual sound of the strong mountain gust created a mystical aura that pervaded through the deep gorges and ridges of the mountain.  “It is almost eerie yet a strangely wonderful feeling” – he thought.

Soon there was fire that provided the much needed comfort of warmth.

He offered Aha-ka-toon-ka some brandy which he politely refused saying – “My son. You do not need intoxication to keep yourself warm. The strength and conviction of your heart can provide you with all the energy you need to keep your mind strong and warm. Conviction alone will provide you with all the warmth you need in your mind to fight this chilly gust on the mountain top or the gust that is tormenting your soul. Just listen to your heart and act on it.”

“How would he know? Is he reading my mind or something?” – he wondered.

“My son – consider me as a reflection of your own destiny and inner thoughts. Your thoughts are what that makes your world. You are a slave of your thoughts. You need to listen to your heart to free yourself from your thoughts that is blinding your mind.”

He was taken aback. “This medicine man definitely is definitely reading my mind.” – he thought.

“When in times of trouble, we native Americans, have always looked into the nature for answers. Look into the stars, listen to the rhythm of the winds, the forceful flow of streams winding down the mountain slopes, the flight of the great eagle. Wah-kan-taw-wah has created all elements of this great nature with a perfect harmony and the book of nature is the greatest source of all wisdom – my son. This book of nature has undergone countless revisions since creation and if you try to read read the signs in this wonderful book - you will find answers to all your troubles”

He wasn’t sure how long they were engaged in conversation.  They talked about the Abenaki tribe, the history of New Hampshire, the arrival of the Europeans, the traditional medicine of the native Americans , the age old wisdom of the native Americans to look for signs in nature to seek solutions for any problems.

“Look my son”- Aha-ka-toon-ka pointed to the northern sky.

There he saw the beautiful northern lights – aurora borealis – lighting up the mysterious and magnificent light that was more spectacular than any man made light work he had ever witnessed.

He continued to watch the splendid marvel of nature in utter awe and appreciation. The splendid sight filled his heart and mind with such an ecstasy that he felt as if he has been bestowed with a new and profound enlightenment –to learn from the greatest source of wisdom - the book of nature. Look for signs in the nature. And clearly he is seeing one now – the colors of hope as reflected in the beautiful splendor of the northern lights.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been watching the wonders in the sky, but when he turned to thank  Aha-ka-toon-ka for the most wonderful words of wisdom he had ever learned – he realized that Aha-ka-toon-ka was gone.

Aha-ka-toon-ka disappeared as mysteriously just as he had appeared. From nowhere into nowhere.

By then, the dawn had broken and the sun appeared in the eastern horizon.

Elated with a sense of enlightenment and hope, he started his descend down the mountain to get to his car and the drive back home. He could not wait to get home – to his family which was always his greatest source of joy and love. He almost felt the same feeling which a teen ager had when he was going out on his first date.


All these while his cell phone had been switched off as he was outside the signal zone of the provider. When he reached the signal zone, he turned his cell phone on and found several text messages, emails and voice mails from her inquiring about his well being. But he decided not to call back. But get to home as fast as he could.

It was well past late evening when he reached his home. As he used the key to open the door, he found the house was engulfed in total silence. Heis son was already fast asleep on his room.

He saw the door leading to the master bath room was ajar and she was staring blankly at the mirror emerged in some thought.

He silently opened the door and offered her the most sincere hug. She reciprocated with an equal intensity.

They stood several minutes silently in each other’s arm. There was no need for any verbal communication. The deep and rapid breadth, the language of solitude said it all.

Two hearts rhymed in unison once more.  Or perhaps the rhythm had never ceased, it was only "his mind" that had blinded his soul from feeling it in those dreadful months.


Agiocochook  - "Home of the Great Spirit" – revived their spirits once again .

                                            --- The End ---

                                      The Abenaki Hymn

Kassiwi  Niona  Enna  Odakozik  Chibaio  Agaskwikok (With  We Who Visit Ghosts From)
Kizos   Aalakws   Nionakiya   Alnobanogan   Nionakiya (The Sun Star of Our Birth and in Our)
Awazsiswogan   Enni   Taolani    Agaskwikok   Noesal   Niona (Infancy   Which   Is   from  the Land  of)
Kizosaltoalakws  Taolawisi  Maskozisis  Taolwisi  Nolka  Moz (The Rising Star as Long as the Deer  and 
                Moose Shall Run Free and the Grass Shall Grow)
Sibo Ikok Pon Tekw (And  the Rivers  Run Swiftly  the Abenaki Shall Survive)
Wobigid Sanoba Magigwogan (The Wicked Spirits Treason)
N'mahomios Chibaio (Against Our Grandfathers Spirits)
Amikimek Pmegamek   Agakidozik (Have Given Us Guidance and Wisdom to

Rise and Come Together to Dance  We Have Been Taught)

Kazaldozk  Nigawes  Spemki   Toldalozi  Nosokazik (To Love  Mother   Earth   and to Respect Her)
Niona Aho Wobenakiak   Kizos Posiwaganogan (We Are the Children of  the Dawn the People)
Wobenakiak    Mozmozik Odiozon (Of the East  May the Great Spirit and)
Kinikinik  Volcanda  Kottliwi   Kwahliwi Tapsiwi (The Great Creator Bless  Us and Smile upon Us)