This was my trip for 2 days, I went there to attend my cousins wedding but ended up staying 4 days although I had targets to meet in my way back home. On 14th July evening I went to my maternal uncle’s place in Khetri. I stayed there the night.....I mean: i just slept there because the moment I reached there I took my uncles daughter and strolled all about the place ...I just loved visiting peoples places....I had the urged to eat my favorite "malpuwas" which I got without any request from one of my visits ...the next morning one of my uncle came to take me to the wedding. It was a two hours journey. Although we had taken the wrong road we manage to get there safely… it was in Nogaon, a place in upper Assam. Literally we enjoyed the wedding and I cancelled my plan to go back to my uncle’s house instead I went with the marriage party (without any extra clothes) to their home after the marriage ended with so called "pomp and pageantry" .It was late at night when we were returning to MIKIR BHETA, a small village in Morigaon I found something enthralling, the road was nice, fine and curvy….and above all a slight breeze was blowing with the beautiful moon looking at us. The place was very lonely, vast, green open fields adorning the sides of the road and suddenly the vehicle were all we “bride’s family” were coming went real silent. We all were soaked in the rays of the moon …it was so luxurious .Time passed by, we reached home ,after some refreshment we all sat in the lawn …where I have above me not tall buildings like in Guwahati but the open sky …all open only for me …..The only delight for me. I thought this is now or never and at the same time I made up my mind to stay longer. I waited till the next morning to inform my parents about my decision.
The very next morning as I was having morning tea with my jetha and family in the courtyard .I suddenly had a feeling about something known….déjà vu….no it was not that, because I have visited this place 8 years ago. The weather suddenly became cloudy and I sensed the feeling of something orient. All were chatting but I was immersed in the feeling …I wanted that feeling ,that surrounding to go on and on until it lasted …it made me feel something related to “Shangri-la”. A thought all in my mind that yearned me always after I read the book “The Lost Horizon” by James Hilton in 2002.It made me think of that monastery of the far east but I was interrupted by my sweet niece.
“Let’s go for a ride” she said excitingly so what I did I took my dada’s Activa and both went for a ride. And as usual people start staring at us because in that village girls rode only bicycle not two wheelers and that too in “mekhela-chaddar”. We rode in 60 kmph. The road was sleek and fine but too many speed breakers. According to my niece every household asked for a speed breaker. I smile and thought that was pretty amazing..And the PWD people didn’t denied too.
The road was long, we rode, gust of wind brush our faces, we enjoyed it specially my niece who was standing in front of me holding the bars of the handle. The roads were adorned by green green fields far and wide along with the beautiful blue skies .Its so contrasting with the city life ,people here are running for money ,so hectic life .Unlike in villages, people are so much at ease, so simple there life is, no facebook ,no twitter neither orkut.serene calm. We stop the bike on the side of the road and sat in the grass along with some cows grazing. During that time I found peace .I don’t know what kind of peace that was: but it was peace, serene………..
That very evening we had an appointment with my second cousins: Jyotiprasad and Bisnuprasad although they were not those “great men” of our Assamese History but they had great hearts .Jyotiprasad was the shy one but Bisnuprasad was our tour guide for the evening .The last time I visited Mikirbheta, we were kids then we used to ride cycles all over the place and we would visit some abandoned Shiva temple beneath the trees. Those were some days J…
He was very excited to take us to that ashram that still holds some spiritual power. But the route to there was real tough. The genuine route was blocked by rainwater, shrubs and now we had to take the less travelled once : it was through the cultivation of jute plants we have to get there ….we all had to scratch those spider webs..uuhhh all plants, insects all over our body. The moment we to reach there we washed ourselves with the water from the well, it was so cold. Suddenly the place was calm and “santi” seem to prevail. We went to the place where a man or the guru who discovered it was now resting in the grave .It is said that the guru puts his “khorom” and take a walk of the whole ashram at night .People staying there hears the sound of his “khorom” every night. I was amazed that people in Hindu culture are burned in pyre but this man was not ,he was just buried (maybe for some beliefs).
We went to see the pond and my God! It was full of lotuses. There were trees surrounding the pond .Actually we came through the backside of the ashram and when we went to see the entrance I was shocked it as so so “antique” , broken scriptures, huge trees welcoming the people and as the sun was almost setting we saw people coming from the fields with “jakhoi “ in their hands .
“What a lovely shot that was?”
After that we meet the supervisor there who is looking after the ashram since 30 years .He told that no one knows who made this ashram or the mandir. But the art of sculptures that one sees is very amazing .It is said that it is a “jagrata mandir” because when one gives “Saki/Deepak” in front of a specific “shiv-parvati idol” it glooms itself. There a kind of light that emits from the stone idol itself. I was very amazed. The whole experience was awesome until a phone rang: our relatives asked us to hurry as it was starting to become dark and there are “evilspirits” in the fields so we have to run home through that jute cultivation that literally hurts our faces.
The next morning I have to reach my uncles place so that the very evening I return home. Although I reached my uncles place I decided not to go home. Me and again my cousin we went for a walk in the evening and while returning visited a relative place. There I came to know about “The History of Dimoria”: the very place where my mother was born and which I will continue in my next post. The next morning I returned home …and was very tired as the whole journey I didn’t get any seat to sit. A journey from Khetri to Guwahati: 50 kms which means to be 1 hr journey but because it was under construction I had to feel heaven…..and that is how I ended my planed and yet unplanned journey……