After every meter there was a 10 feet long crater. You either hopscotch or walk through the muddy fields that ran alongside. These were the notorious roads of Jorhat, which even the most seasoned Rickshawalla and fighter jet Autowallah feared to venture. You could see females of all ages standing near the mouth of the street called Borbheta Charali, with loads of grocery and shopping bags, pleading the rickshawalla to drop them home. The autowallas don’t even dare to stop lest a girl manages to convince them to do the dangerous.
“Dada bolok, paribo solabo” (Dada let’s go, you will be able to drive)
You could see the dilemma in the eyes of rickshawallas – first eyeing the money that is being offered and then the treacherous roads that lay in front.
Some take the bait and return back howling in terror and pain.
That was in 1997 when we first moved to the city. The horrors of walking those broken roads still makes my hips ache. But the roads were mended in 2000 and the people of Chewnigaon collectively rejoiced by drinking and singing Bihu songs.
You can see the road in this screen shot from Google Map. 😊
But as the fate maybe, the roads started cracking again. Imagine the kind of construction materials the contractors must have used.
And going home looked akin to Starks going back to Winterfell. We have fought a thousand Wars on those roads, our feet blistered and arms sore from carrying heavy bags because at that point going by an auto was more catastrophic than walking with a load of shopping bags.
This is the road where thick snakes have crossed my path, leaving me shocked for life. The darkness that befell on that street without any street lights, was darker than Kings Landing.
Years have passed by but what I wouldn’t do to go back to those days when we all lived under one roof and fought and played with each other. I haven’t seen my siblings in years. I have missed so much of their adult years.
The Starks are slowly getting together in Game of Thrones, it fills my heart with joy because I want the brothers and sisters to reunite.
I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words #6‘
The apathy of the authorities is such a human tragedy to this beautiful place. You have painted the description of your home town with so much beautiful and can visualize the way of life and culture. Love the google image too. It shows the simplicity of life.
What the hell of a road! It is hard for me to imagine what kind of a road it must be to incite such terror among the people of Jorhat. Tread bravely looks apt to describe the hardships.
Whoa… is this story for real! Wow man what people in India suffer in the name of government apathy! Hats off to the people of this town for bearing with something like this in their everyday life. Raj I loved the way you have intejected humour and wit into an otherwise dreary tale!! Kudos!
When I was a child, the road from home and to the main road was just a muddy path. When monsoon comes, we literally used to walk with water upto our knees. So much of nostalgia and memories even in broken roads. Loved your post.
I could totally feel the nostalgia, that you have for those days, and the roads of Jorhat. You are a gifted writer. 🤗
Aww.. I love it, Raj. The way you used GOT especially the Starks makes me so so so happy. Yay! Cheers to another Stark fan <3
Its always the case isn’t it- we move ahead and make a life of our own and are content with how we have progressed but a tiny part of us yearns for those good old days when we were young and created some priceless memories with our near and dear ones
I feel the longing in this post. Atleast, I have my sister in the same city for the last 3 years before that I used miss her terribly. I hope you too get to be with your siblings in the same place once more for a longer time and not just on holidays.
May the best Stark win.
I’m not into Game of Thrones or Harry Potter but I do hope you find your way back home soon….
Wow! What a place to be in:)
So much love and longing in this post–for siblings to reunite is a joyous and painful thing– joy because you meet, and painful, because you’ve been parted, and might yet part again.