Blocked by a landslide

This is a fascinating tale about a journey, where we ventured out into the wilds of the Jaintia hills during monsoon.
Blocked by a landslide

Kamal Baruah

(The writer can be reached at kamalbaruah@yahoo.com)

This is a fascinating tale about a journey, where we ventured out into the wilds of the Jaintia hills during monsoon. When the region has endured months of incessant rain, the people have been cut off by floods and landslides. The so-called roads probably exist only on surveyors' map while no outsiders are daring to go into the valley. I saw a land of possibility but soon discovered that there was adventure beyond those frightening moments that came over in a jiffy.

We boarded a chartered bus for a quintessential town of Barak Valley for a conference. It was dark at Umiam, while we were bypassing Shillong. Soon another road joined at Ummulong, the dhabas started at the strip of land alongside the road. The dinner didn't impress us by the spectacle of half-cooked chicken and boiled rice. The Pnar (Jaintia tribe) manager wasn't expecting such a huge order even though the hotelier was very cheerful.

We had journeyed at a snail's pace because the National Highway-44 was in a dilapidated condition. The frontier route is considered India's most dangerous road to hell. The traffic remains suspended for frequent landslides which results in Manipur, Tripura and Mizoram being cut off from Assam. After much local gossip, we fell half asleep.

The relentless rains hadn't stopped for that night. It was at Umkiang after Sonarpur under Narpuh Reserve Forest, all traffics came to a grinding halt, leaving hundreds of vehicles stranded. The road was so slippery and running sharp curves.The top of rugged cliffs of mountain was hanging over steep head. There was massive earthfall that blocked the road. We passed the night inside dense forest surrounded by deep gorges.

In the morning, there had been no let-up in our suffering. Alas! The signal strength of the network showed zero. We were afraid; we had no alternative but to hike across rough terrain to see small streams to fulfil the need of drinking water. After hours of search, we found water plunging into a pool. We couldn't hear anything over the thunder of the waterfall. Yes we reached deep in the forest. The daylight soon appeared beneath the trees that boosted our energy. Hurrah! There is a tea stall. We grabbed some tea & biscuits.

Local tribes are probably happy with such incidents and thronged out as they were finding it hard to make ends meet. I appreciated that, "when neighbour suffers, localities earn". Overcoming all hassle, the road brought us down to earth with a bang. The huge mass of earth/rock from a cliff collapsed over a massive area. The incident triggered by continuous rainfall while passengers of several vehicles escaped from the jaws of death. Rain created artificial falls, making us realize how nature could create such disaster for humanity.

Tea stalls were packed up as stocks were drying up fast. Since the scarcity of drinking water made it worse, people forced to apply extreme survival technique by boiling rainwater to purify from dust, pollen and mould. Incidentally, small rivulet streams gave us some respite. The thick jungles sheltered us from pouring rain while the tall trees pushed away the daylight hours. We were expecting another night halt and so we arranged some firewood to have some light. The possibilities of wild animals were threatening. We looked devastated and hungry too. Hundreds of sufferers walked out that night causing the worst travel snarls for two days.

There was rolling noise echoing from the hills. We could hear people screaming in hope. As the JCB excavators arrived, Khasi cowboys started working on bulldozers like demolition men. They pressed into service to clear the debris after a couple of hours.The next difficulty was for traffic to move on the congested road. There was enchanting views of a suspension bridge over the river Lukhaat Lumtongseng. The river broadens out to the plains of Bangladesh after a kilometre away. The worst patch of the flooded road at the plains of the Cachar district turned into mud pools, throwing traffic into serious danger of skidding. We finally reached Silchar the next night.

After a decade,where a road that halted us inside the hills of Meghalaya, today I sing my way along with Robert Frost's lines - "the earth falls are no lovely but dark and deep, But I have promises not to travel over bump and mud, and miles to fly before I visit again", because I was stopped by devastating landslides over a treacherous journey on a drizzling day.

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