Journey into Arunachal Pradesh

And so it came to pass, in the two thousand and fourteenth year of common era, that a graduate engineer trainee (hereby referred to as Young Technical Leader™ (patent pending)) of the massive juggernaut of Bharti Airtel was allowed to venture in the mystic forests of southern Tibet™ (hereby referred to as Arunachal Pradesh (Chinese takeover pending)), domesticated by months of servitude in the fastness of Bharti house Guwahati, unwashed, unwed and suddenly run out of JRR Tolkien spirit will revert to the common tongue of a millennial, namely B1tch please, wanderlust!.

Assam Trunk Road

So I leave for Bomdila at the strike of dawn with a pitstop at the office. You see this was a partial office work trip as well. So my *primary* task was to pick up some equipment and rush it across the Assam Arunachal border to Dirang. First step: food and then proceed to the ATM. Arunachal has the unique quality of not having the more modern feature of accepting credit or debit cards in most establishments, nothing to say about the state of the ATMs there either. So with my bank balance going half, I head away from my bastion, Guwahati city, the maximum city of north east India. 

The plains of Brahmaputra follow by as my courier rockets along the Assam trunk road. Winds pick up and a slow sheet of spray sprinkles our windshield as we span the river himself. The river is wide, it has cut great mountains and drains them into its vast body. Anticipation for Himalayas rise. Whoosh! Then a green blur. Clouds rush to cover the nudity of the sky as we head past the other bank. The driver is now focused. We are entering armed and insurgent lands. The pits stop of Bhalukpung is nearing, it is the only safe haven for docile folk (i.e. me).

Vanra Sena

Monkeys in the forests rushing past, bamboo slowly gives way to deciduous greens and browns. It is, after all, the edge of autumn and precipice of winter is close by. Then we enter the border town. Bhalukpung, a place where our passes are checked. The whereabouts where the sole way to the upper reaches of Tawang, Himalayas and crossings in to Tibet east of Ganga start. The people know about that fact here, they express it. Ornamental gates span the highway, in scripts indigenous and fluid. They welcome us and thank us for undertaking the hardships they partake every day, or maybe it is thank you for leaving -_-.

Entrance to Arunachal

Then the ramparts of Himalayas hit you. The mountains are not gentle and old like their counterparts in peninsular India. No, these are the fury of Indian plates subjugating under the Tibetan monstrosity. They are raw and steep, designed to hold all that is natural at bay. It is the impassable objection to the indomitable artic winds. The northern wind, Dong Feng as the Mongolians and Chinese call it, has harassed and become a name of strength in northern Asia. The nuclear dream of total annihilation is carried on the missiles with the same name. Yet it evokes no sentiment in the subcontinent. There are no gentle peaks in Himalayas, there is no room for any.

But when nature fails, man will have to make do. BRO (border roads organization) has metaled a road on these winding mountains and you feel the enormous work they carry out as you cross the first major checkpoint- Tippi. The roads become a 2 lane affair and are blasted in mountains with near vertical walls. Yet these are only hills (same height as alps), the Greater Himalayas still have to prove their naming.

Cold waterfalls photobombed

The mountains are beautiful, it looks straight out of fantasy novels. You have the same feeling you get when you go to Himachal Pradesh. These views will stun you. You will be numbed by the purity of air and the sweetness of the wind. Even the cold water spring and falls will seem purer than the bottled water that are provisioned in Guwahati.

Thus we climb. Higher and higher. In a symphony with cars in front and back. Just watching the scale of engineering it takes, to tame this feature of nature. All music goes off, in this area, every turn is a blind turn, plus we must hurry too, the steep gradients ensure that only a few brave souls reside in this stretch. Any accident at night would not find a relief till the next day.

Then we cross valleys and enter the military bastion of Tenga. There is another wonder, an entire cliff side covered with bees’ hives, forming a huge colony or empire. And we climb higher.

There are very few railing on this route, this region is positively dangerous. But you want to go further in, charge along a road littered with the sweat of progress of Indians. You climb higher.

BRO engineering

So far the sky had been confined to a narrow strip framed by dry rocks, but now the sky begins to expand, and conifers tinge the frame, because now, we have enter the approach to Bomdi-la. 

Entrance to Bomdila

There is only one comparison for Bomdila, it is Minas Tirith of Tolkien. This place marks the entry point for the lands populated by Munfa tribe, who were originally Tibetans but post the cultural revolution, decided to be integrated into India, though I believe, the way they accommodate people, it more like they allowed India to integrate with them. Very peaceful people. Vegetarianism and dead animals only (animals that die of natural causes). These guys buy fish from vendors and release them in streams.

Bomdi-la is majestic, surrounded by hills on three sides and actually strapped onto a hill, it looks at first glance, like a beehive clinging to a near vertical structure (I can’t get that image out of my mind). It is beautiful. You keep on climbing the levels and the twisty roads to reach the top and suddenly, you are at 9k feet.. This place was the last stand of Indian army against the Chinese invasion of 1962. People here remember. They remember the dead and the heroes who were immortalized. Army is respected. And it shows.

Luckily for me, this place had a festival going on in the night. It was to be a congregation of tribes in Arunachal Pradesh. Bloody good timing I say. In an open field the performances were held, and a great many people were in audience. This is but a series of festivals taking place in north east. Such congregations before winter take place in Nagaland and Manipur around this time as well.

Fire and Food

This place is not quiet the tribal meet of movies. This was a hardcore mela. It looked so normal and completely normal, even the stalls were built frugally like those in an outdoor event like duga puja, auto show, new year party, whatever.. the people were chilling out and enjoying the festive dances.. there were bonfires going on the side with people barbecuing chicken and drink local liquor. Nice food stalls, variety of tribal cuisines… all that stuff. A couple singing and some cheesy lines belted by the PA system made this place look just…. normal. Fuck this! I am going to eat all I can and sleep on it.