It is 14th October and I am back in Guwahati from Binnaguri in North Bengal. Binnaguri is an army cantonment an hour away from the Bhutan border. There is an airforce station at Hasimara half an hour away from Binnaguri. MIG 21’s lined up to serve Bhutan in case of Chinese aggression, or so the dominant thinking states.
To get to Binnaguri I had to catch a train at 5 am from Kamakhya station in Guwahati. The train goes over the Brahmputra crosses several river islands (all submerged now) and gets to Binnaguri 7 hours later.
Binnaguri station is tiny, more like a bus stop. And maybe five trains in all stop there. I got there and called my sister who said she was stuck at the railway crossing. The station was so tiny I could see the crossing and my sister’s car. I almost walked over across the tracks to her. But due to my heavy duty baggage I couldn’t.
Binnaguri does not have a middle class. The only middle class that exists is provided by the Indian army. There is only one street with extremely tiny stores which is the only shopping district there. Most hired help in the cantonment comes from Bangladesh. The place is full of immigrants (legal and illegal). My sister’s maids Amina and Hamida are two Bangla women. They are not allowed to live within the cantonment. They must leave by 4 pm. This restricts their earnings since they do not work the evening or night shifts.
The town is surrounded by tea plantations, owned mostly by Duncans. The tea estates have their own social dynamic between poor migrant workers and the managers who do not hail from Bengal. Needless to say the managers do not form the middle classes either, falling effortlessly in the higher income groups.
To go out of the cantonment jawans (privates) in the army must obtain an out pass from the authorities. Every vehicle is searched before it reenters the cantonment. The reason why jawans are not allowed to go out alone is because of the purported presence of the ISI in the town. Apparently, where there are huge numbers of Bangla immigrants, there are also ISI agents. Unsuspecting jawans are apparently at risk if they step out. They may unknowingly part with information sensitive in nature about the cantonment or its officers.
Like most army cantonments, Binnaguri is surrounded by miles of jungles. It is impossible to go for a walk though. Even on the trails there are tiger leeches – creepy living things that jump up at exposed flesh and suck suck suck your blood, and fall off when fattened. My sister’s dog, Daniel, often has to be de-leeched when he comes back from his morning and evening romps. Luckily he is a furry creature and the leeches have trouble finding flesh on him. But a couple of times they had managed to stick to the area around his nose, which is usually found sniffing in the bushes. To de-leech all you need is some salt. And in front of you, the leech starts shriveling and falls off with all its blood on the floor. It’s pretty gross and the damn leeches don’t give up without a fight.
Phone and GPRS services are limited; the most reliable networks are Vodafone and the army communications system. The theory about Vodafone domination in West Bengal is that the Vodafone signs are all red and resonate very well with the ruling party’s left ideology. Quite obviously, there are no coffee shops or eating out joints apart from roadside vendors.
An hour away from Binnaguri is the Bhutanese border town of Phuen Tsholing. One only has to drive north cross the Indian border at Jaigaon and take a right turn into Bhutan. The only thing we see on the drive are tea estates, mountains (all foothills of the Himalayas) and Gorkhaland agitators (we saw tons of them on the day we drove). The border is friendly and porous. Bhutanese people come and work in West Bengal in Jaigaon, Binnaguri and Hasimara and leave by the evening state transport buses which run between the two countries. Similarly Indians work in Phuen Tsholing and return in the evening. Safe driving is facilitated by the Indian Border Roads Organization, which has zen signs on the highway, which say silly things like
" It is better to be Mister Late than Late Mister..."
"Speed thrills, but kills"
"Slow down, slow down, slow down"
Interestingly, in violation of all rules of market societies, the informal currency contract between people on both sides of the border is at par. So when I went to buy some “Made in France” Longchamp crystal champagne glasses (at this tiny dingy shop –all smuggled goods store) I got change back in Bhutanese currency. I was pretty stunned till the shopkeeper, Manoj, explained to me how this was the norm. So it doesn’t matter what the international exchange rate is (right now the Bhutanese Ngultrum equals the Indian rupee), for the people at the border the two currencies are interchangeable and used as legal tender.
Phuent Sholing is a pretty town surrounded by pretty mountains on all sides. Looks a bit like Frisco. When you drive over through the gates into the Kingdom, The Bhutanese border guards spray the wheels of your car and wave you through after peeking in and doing a head count. On the way back the lone Indian guard on the opposite side of the street just scratches his head while you drive back into India. The Kingdom is beautiful. And I love the cute little outfits the men wear. Stockings and a short tied robe (called a gho) hitched above the knees and held in place with a broadish belt called a kera. Strangely the first thing one sees once crossing into Bhutan is a huge Bharat Petroleum gas station where the prices are ten rupees lesser than what you get in India. No wonder then that most Indians prefer driving into Bhutan to fill gas. It works out much cheaper.
Druk is the biggest company in Bhutan and makes everything from alcohol to soap to foodstuff. But you do get most Indian products and of course Coke and Pepsi.
Tomorrow I am flying to a place called Lilabari in Upper Assam, from where I will cross over into Arunachal Pradesh and stay in Itanagar. I am going to be interviewing a minister in the state called Dorjee Khandu, whose portfolio is, "All departments not allocated to any other Cabinet Minister"... :D. I am not joking.
Very Monty Python portfolio.. like the Ministry of Silly Walks! :D :D
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