Thursday 29 August 2013

Far Away Land




Part 1 

How I wish I was a writer and not a filmmaker!

If I were a writer every time there is a desire in me to communicate something all I have to is just  pick up a piece of paper and a pen and  not look for funds to make my film and tug along a whole paraphernalia with me to express what I wanted to communicate! Maybe not even that, all I have to do is to just open the desk top in my computer and start writing. That is precisely what I am doing now to describe my incredible trip to Jhamtse Gatsal Children's Community School in the remote mountains of Tawang District in Arunachal Pradesh in India.


All it took was a simple invitation to visit this community late last year by a family friend who is part of the community. All I was expected to do was to go there for a month and introduce the children there to the medium of cinema. A trip to the far corner of the North East of India on the border of Bhutan, Tibet and China was not an opportunity to be missed even if one had had the good fortune of travelling extensively in India and abroad by the sheer fact of being a filmmaker. All I had to do was to reach Guwahati, the capital of Assam, and the rest was to be taken care of by the organizers.






North East! Right across the width of the country from where I live in Mumbai. So why not take a train and see the country in all its length and breadth, from west to the far end of the east! I booked myself on the solitary train which connects Mumbai to Guwahati, but only thrice a week. I boarded the train one fine morning in early Oct, 2012 knowing full well that it will reach its destination after more than 48 hours! How romantic! Travel across the county on a slow train to nowhere land!

North East turned out to be a far away land. As the train trudged along the states of Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Jharkhand, Bihar and Bengal and then Assam  my enthusiasm and patriotic feeling diminished as  hours passed in that much neglected train going to what is referred to as   ‘neglected states of the North East of India’. Even though I was supposed to be in an elite class of the train, the train seemed to be a free for all for everyone: hawkers of all cultural hues of the states the train passed through and anybody and everybody on the train no matter which compartment they were in, kept walking up and down the aisles of the train all through the day and most of the night with or without reason. And as the time passed the train accumulated garbage in the same proportion as the number of passengers who kept discarding anything and everything from fruit peels to chocolate wrappers and the toilets became  filthier and filthier as the journey progressed with no respite at any station or any form of cleaning.


One day and one night then another day and another night with some over enthusiastic co-passengers on a pilgrimage oblivious of the unpleasant surroundings challenged my patience as a tolerant citizen of the country every now and then. Yet I held on. With some polite conversations with co-passengers and some nationalistic talk with a reasonably sensible co-passenger who was fortunate enough to reach his destination much before me with a pledge that he would never travel in that train again! I too took that pledge in my mind. I sustained myself for one more night and day. The enthusiastic pilgrims got down somewhere in the middle of night and finally the train reached Guwahati two hours later than it was supposed to—fifty-two hours from Mumbai! Two others passengers and myself were the only ones who had travelled right from Mumbai to Guwahati! Bravo!







A day’s halt in Guwahati was a relief as my host was to pick me up the next day as she had missed her flight from New Delhi! Then began my next assault in my journey to the North East! From Guwahati to Tezpur and from Tezpur to Tawang and from Tawang to Jhamtse Gatsal beyond Lumna with two night stays on the way. It was another chapter of my travel to the North East! The vehicle I was travelling in was moving on virtually non-existent roads devastated by landslides and post monsoon waterfalls overflowing over the road at times and the slush made you shudder as one looked at the depth of the valleys on the side of the roads with no protecting walls. On the one hand I was looking at the sheer beauty of the landscape and on the other hand I was shivering inside hoping the driver won’t take a wrong turn or take a cat nap while driving!



                          



All through the long bone-breaking journey of 20 hours I was wondering at the apathy of governance that had had left the entire stretch of the road in a state of neglect. It is on the frontier of our country on the border of Bhutan, Tibet and China, a very sensitive area full of army deployment and constant movement of the army convoys and what is more, people use this road to go from one place to another. When I compared the border roads of north India to what I was seeing I wondered why the disparity? Was it sheer apathy of the government at the center and the state, or corruption of the highest level or just incompetence of the Border Road Organization which is managing these roads? The answers have to come from somewhere. The fact was that I was traversing these treacherous roads and maybe spending twice the number of hours reaching my destination than it should have normally taken raised some questions in my mind. What would happen if there is some kind of trouble on the border, how fast would our forces move to reach their destination? I was told that on the other side of the border in China there was a four lane road right up to the border where tourists drive up in their posh cars! And I also wondered if any central minister had ever travelled in these conditions from Tezpur to Tawang in the recent history or if the Prime Minister or Defence Minister for that matter is even aware of this state of affairs in the North East which the central Govt  is often accused of neglecting.


                                  


Finally I reached my destination! After two days of travel. I was hoping although I was broken in my body, I was not broken in my spirit.

                                     





                                     



                                   
                  


                                                                                         Photographs and Text

                                                                       Vishnu Mathur. 
©

                                                                       August 29, 2013.

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