Assam -1 Unexpected Kannada Speaker

I knew that I had not written anything on this blog, Peripatetica, a blog about my travel experiences, for quite some time. I did not, however, realise that it has been nearly a decade since I wrote last! A recent trip to Assam and Meghalaya has given me an impetus to write.

I had an uncle, one Major Gururaj of the Indian army. My sisters and I called him Guranna Maama. He was a handsome charismatic man. I had the young boy’s fascination for the armed forces. My father and he were very fond of each other. All these things made me looked up to him.

When he was visiting us once, we were in Shivamogga (Shimoga) then, he invited our family to visit him in Shillong, where he was then stationed. The very sound of that name was very attractive to my ears and still is. When my father declined because of our financial circumstances, I was deeply disappointed. When my father explained why we could not visit him he said “If we come all the way there and don’t have enough money to return, what will you do?” His answer was a nonchalant, “How can I keep you there forever! I will find some way to get enough money to send you back!” But that was not to be. My father would narrate this story once in a while, with great pleasure and affection for Guranna Maama, reinforcing my wish to visit Shillong. It eventually happened 65 years later, on the 17^th and 18^th of November of 2025.

My son. Maitreya, was between jobs and wanted a holiday. I wondered why I should not go with him, if he had no objections. He had none. So we planned a weeklong visit to Assam and Meghalaya. Even though I say we planned, almost all of the planning was his and I helped him by getting out of his way! Here is an account of some interesting stories from that trip in multiple posts and it is not a detailed ball-by-ball account. They are accounts of what I found interesting. That sporty idiom reminds me that someone asked me if I was going to Guwahati to watch the test match. It was only then that I came to know that a cricket match was scheduled to be played between South Africa and India in Guwahati between 22^nd and 26^th. (India lost badly)

Mawnianglah Village

 For all that long standing dream of mine about Shillong, we   just passed through Shillong on the way to Cherrapunji and   on the way back. We stayed in a hotel outside Shillong in a   village called Mawnianglah - not that it means anything to   me other than just as a memory of a sound that I liked.

 

 I was fascinated that while visiting the Khasi hills and   Cherrapunji, we could see Bangladesh down below. That   was the second time I was seeing a country from outside its   borders*. What is also fascinating is the number of waterbodies, large and small, that seem to dot as long as the eye can see!

 

 

 

 

View of Bangladesh from the Khasi hills.

 We visited the sacred forest of the Khasi people in Khasi   hills. After buying our tickets, we were assigned a guide. As we waited, a group of four ladies joined our group so we became a group of six. I learned that the ladies were all originally from Orissa, were employed in a bank in Bhopal. After a short wait, we got our guide – a sprightly young man. He gave a brief but clear introduction to the history of the forest and its significance, while standing at the gate to the forest. And as were entering the forest, he asked me where I am from. When I sad that I am from Bengaluru, he asked me if I knew Kannada! When I confirmed, he said, “ನಂಗೆ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಕನ್ನಡ ಬರತ್ತೆ” (nange

At the sacred site 

swalpa swalpa kannada baratte – I know a little Kannada) and continued to speak fairly good Kannada whenever there was an opportunity.

 

There are places in the forest which are sacred where photography is not allowed. However, at one such spot, he volunteered to take a picture of us though making sure that the sacred site and articles themselves were not visible. Here is that photo. 

 

 

Our guide’s name is Wishbanroy Rani. He explained that he carries his mother’s name, Rani, because of the matrilineal tradition of the Khasis. He had a good sense of humour too. Someone asked him if he was married. “Oh no! I am only 23. I have to experience life, make good memories and then only marry. Ours is a matrilineal tradition and I have to lose my freedom! Not ready yet”, he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. He told me had studied for a few years in Bengaluru and had picked up Kannada. Perhaps his profession gave him some opportunities to stay in touch, once in a while.

It was pleasant to come across someone from so far away speaking Kannada when we have many in Bengaluru who have lived and worked here for decades and have “managed” not to learn even a smattering of Kannada! Here is the picture of Wishbanroy and us outside the forest, after the tour inside.

We visited the famous Seven Sisters Falls which, unfortunately, did not even have a trickle. On our return journey to Guwahati we visited the Elephant falls and the Airfoce Museum in Shillong.

The Seven Sisters Falls

We also passed the reservoir formed by the dam across the river Umiam which means "water of tears" in the Khasi language. The name is linked to a legend. Two sisters journeyed from heaven to earth. One of them got lost, and the other's unending tears formed the river. The Umiam Lake was formed after a dam was built across the river. The lake is also called Bara Pani (Big water?). Here are some pictures from that visit

 

Umiam reservoir - Bara Pani

 

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A view of Shillong from the highway.

 

*The First time was seeing Belgium from The Netherlands. A friend and I had walked the small town of Vaals in The Netherlands from Aachen in Germany. Perhaps a story for another day. As we crossed the international border at a gate I was reminded of a story connected with that gate, a great aeronautics expert Theodore von Kármán. I shamelessly plug my book in whichyou can read that story.