Bishnu rabha graffiti

Bishnu Rabha was a pioneer of Assamese art and culture inspiring thousands of youth with his poetic verses. It was on this note that I decided to draw his graffiti on my interior wall.

CALL OF THE DZUKOU

Storms of water running downstream over the slippery aged rocks stacked from ancient times by the natural villagers through the green rainforest swept aside the conventional world throwing us to a different parallel universe. Dzukou meaning “cold water “ in Angami-Mao language of  Nagaland plunges into the heart for a trip into a vast silent world. The Nepali uncle of the shop at the bottom of the hill who provided great hospitality last time was somewhat hazy to remember but as I reminded him he became bright and greeted back. I asked him a small utensil where we can cook food which he provided with joy. Thus we started our climb with backpacks amidst the vocals of the welcoming birds. The first 2km can be accessed by car though the newly traced road was bumpy, full of rocks and boulders but the brother driver took the pain to drive us there.

 Dzukou is nearly 20 km from Kohima, the state capital Of Nagaland and its entry is from Zakhama village .One can also enter from Viswema village next to Zakhama. With each step climb the familiar illogical pains of the world bubbled out from mind and soul and made us closer to the creator step by step. The first half of the climb gave a spectacular view of the adjacent hill composed of grasslands where tall trees were absent with uniform green grasses making it look like a vertical green playground.

The path grew darker, trees became more crowded ,sounds of mechanical world became distant ,vocals of aerial elements became dominant and unknowingly we plunged into the dungeons of nature. Incessant rain made the thousand leaves shine made numerous tiny streams creating natural melodious sounds. The stairways made by stacking nearby rocks were evident of the tedious effort put on by the villagers from time immemorial on which nature also helped by asking the mighty trees to spread along its roots to provide natural stairs. Kokil and Hirok as always were merrily laughing often making pranks and it should be mentioned that Hirok shocked me by suddenly coming to station with backpacks and his presence made the trail more fun. Walk by walk we grew closer to heavenly elements ,our mind was bathing in serene enlightenment and confrontation with the mighty phenomenon of nature that has been existence since millions of years. After an hour walk we reached the first makeshift camp. It was two roomed abandoned cottage used by travellers to take rest or shade from rain. The inner room had a naked wooden bed and places to light fire. We encountered some local travellers and they wished us luck .

We departed from there and the next half was steeper than the earlier. Powered by the monsoon the stream dissecting the trail tried to swept our feet and we carefully crossed them feeling its coolness that travelled from bare foot to the brains .

Finally we reached the second makeshift camp .We halted for a necessary joint that could take us more deep into the nature. The camp was just a shade with wooden logs scattered here and there.

The next uphill climb was very steep and we toiled and crawled up hoping that the top was near and to our utter dismay everybody coming downhill telling us we are almost atop only to see another chunk of vertical hill above us. Suddenly we saw tunnel of light tearing down amidst the wood .Hirok was ahead and screamed that we have reached upon which I hastened my way above and emerged from the darkness into vast silent valley dotted with small hills one adjacent to other. Kokil followed and we sat at the nearby rocks .The cold breezes slapped our faces silencing and forcing us to feel ,hear, smell the millions of joys, sorrows ,emotions and pains, the healings of the world that had been trapped in the valley. From there it was a track downward through the light green tall grasses and we could see the guest house at a distant.

Reaching there we unstrapped our backpacks on the open varandahs, mind rejoiced by the laughter and songs of the inmates there. They caretakers asked us to put our tents nearby but we asked whether we can put our tents on the valley where flowers blossomed ,on which he plainly refused. It was understandable because the majestic flower beds will be disturbed by the presence of human existence and waste. The valley of flowers can be accessed walking without putting tents there so decided to go by the caretaker’s words and thus showed the place where we can put up our camp which was in near vicinity of the guest house. The guest house had the provision of dorms and we noticed that large group of local tribes shall come there and stay for considerable times and enjoy singing and dancing staying at the dorms. Nevertheless we were not happy with the space for provided for camping as it was too near to the guest house and hence crowded and perhaps the caretaker noticed our discomfort and allowed us to put up the tent on the helipad at the distant.it was a perfect place and was located away from the crowd and also atop a separate hillock. Merrily we rushed to the spot and put our tent and then started enjoying, discussing and laughing within our tent.

As it was raining outside there was no possibility of lighting fire to cook food and it was already dark ,so we ordered food which is costly but justiciable owing to the fact that raw materials have to be carried on back from bottom of hill. The striking sound of rain over the skin of tent, the rushing breeze oscillating the walls of tents, the sound of the whirling wind and distant animals and the realization of the vast green valley made the night sit on a cloud nine. The morning was grand and resounding and we looked at the cosmic valley with its patches of small naturally gardened hillocks at the distant with stretches of white dzukou lily waving back to us. All the travellers were passing by us from the guest house towards the valley and they took notice of our camp ,often posing photos with it. We had morning tea and all the groups were singing and dancing their traditional folk dance .There are separate compartments or shades where people or groups can cook food and utensils are provided by the caretakers in exchange of a humble some of money. We head out to the valley and were lost, bewildered amongst the dwarf bamboo trees which looks like grassland from distant and patches of white lily now so close even to smell them.

The Dzukou river flowed in a zig zag way down h valley over some cave structures nearby. The cave or rock structures are an interesting place to camp and nearby plains have several graveyards of local elderly Angami people immaculately positioned giving a feeling that their soul still plays there. The river forms the boundary of Nagaland and Manipur though the Angamis refuse to accept the territory of Manipur.

The distant hillocks provide a superb camping ground each better than the other while the Dzukou river waving its hand nad giving goodbye before its starts its journey towards Peren district.

STREAMS THAT WENT APART

I see you my brothers

Once we were frozen together

On the womb of the mighty glacier

Prepared to flow in the streams of time

Through the whistling woods

Down the narrow valleys

Striking hard on the rocks

The rock of circumstances

There you disappeared my brothers

Onto some mysterious paths

Here I am now on the river of societies

I ain’t transparent now

Musk of dirt surrounds me

And I can’t see straight and clear

But sometimes the mountain breeze

Passes silently stroking my hair gently

Sharing love of my long lost brothers

Love that fore ever hover in the spectra

And we all shall finally dance

In the gigantic ocean

Waiting for turn to jump in sky

Relieved of dirt and sins

To fall like rain crystal and clear

Or glide as snow on to the mother glacier