BY THE BRAHMAPUTRA      

It's the time when day begins to fade out and evening slowly rouses itself from its slumber. The sun is done for  the day and begins dipping its way into the western horizon. All the while, the river Brahmaputra flows, its sway over the landscape never wavering. Lazily drifting across the Brahmaputra on a river cruise, a cup of hot coffee in hand in a vain attempt to ward off the growing chill having foolishly assumed that Guwahati in early February wouldn't require any warm clothing, it's a battle between sticking to the deck seat and going down to more confined spaces. The deck wins; after all what's a few puny goose pimples against the mesmerizing vista spread out all around. 

Starting out from the Kachari Ghat, it's  a lazy said heading towards the Umananda Temple located on a small river island, dense with forest. Even on a weekday the temple appears to be drawing copious numbers of devotees, all spewing out from rudimentary river boats.  There's no stopping for us on the cruise, a slow turn and its back to the ghat. Though not a water person, I have to admit that there is something trance inducing to be surrounded by gently lapping water while the boundaries between the water and sky disappear into a haze. But even in that never-never land the human mind has its own whimsical ways. Why is the Brahmaputra the only male river in India?Do rivers actually have genders? The river is said to be son of Lord Brahma in Hindu mythology. So if Brahmaputra is the son of Lord Brahma why does it originate in Tibet? The river is said to originate from the Talung Tso Lake in Tiber, enter India through Arunachal Pradesh and wind its way through Assam before entering the Bay of  Bengal. For such an impressive river, especially when it contains Majuli, the biggest river island  in the world, why does the development of the area around it seem a neglected affair? Forget attractive river front promenades, there are barely any inviting cafes or view points around. It's like fine we have this great river, so fine let it just flow on! 

And also why are the live singers below, all young men, belting out Bollywood numbers one after another? If the Brahmaputra ride is supposed to be one of the major tourist attraction of Guwahati shouldn't there be Assamese music, especially folk numbers and maybe some tilting Bihu songs? Strange indeed are the ways of tourist business! The magic of the moment however takes over and nothing else matter especially sniffing cynicism.  

Guwahati and I have always had had a strange relationship, like nodding acquaintances, suddenly running into each other and exchanging insipid smiles in the passing.There's no escaping Guwahati if you travel to North East India, especially Shillong. No one rejoiced as much as I did when they built the bypass from the airport at Guwahati to Shillong,  thus doing away with the need to enter the city at all, except for a brief skirting around the airport area. The best route to take is via Deepor Beel, the wildlife sanctuary with its huge freshwater lake buzzing with endless varieties of birds. One day I will honour the promise to stop there and check out the sanctuary! Looking back, I have always passed through Guwahati except for a few brief stays.  I love everything Assamese especially the food, but somehow I couldn't get myself to love or even like Guwahati.  

Liking or not liking the place became inconsequential because the occasion was something else. I have many sisters from other mothers and when one of them, Guwahati based, began preparing to become a mother-in-law for the first time with her older child ready to step into marriage, it was a yippee-yoo flight to the city. With North India weddings becoming flamboyant extravaganzas, the Assamese affair is something that goes to your heart immediately. Simple, traditional with the innate purity of the rituals intact. It actually feels like a wedding and not a 70mm dazzling event orchestrated to display the family wealth and standing. There's one ceremony that can be said to be unique and that is the juroon, a pre-marriage ritual where the groom's mother and other ladies of the family come to the bride's home carrying her main trousseau, ornaments and such. It's mostly an all women show and I loved the fact that it was also an occasion for displaying the best of Assamese traditional women's wear mekhela chador, almost all in whites and creams and pastels. 

 

The intimacy of the whole ceremony was evident right from the outset with the cocktail hosted by the bride's parents. The venue was the sprawling lawns of the family home done up aesthetically. There were no professional mini-skirted hostess attending to guests but family members and friends who personally looked after each invitee. If it is India, if it is a wedding then it cannot be complete with much music and dancing. There was, some Bollywood numbers too until the Bihu songs, which can be called you-just-cannot-sit-this-out whether you know the Bihu dance moves or not, took over. Amazingly, many elderly guests who had  been bearing up stoically with the Hindi songs and dance suddenly found their groove and the most crowded area was the dance floor! 

Naturally there was much feasting and gluttony too. I can say it with authority nowhere in India can you get pork as yummy as in the North East or smoked fish. The fish redolent with wood smoke was broken into little bits and mixed with minced onions and chili, salt, a dash of lemon juice and garnished with fresh coriander. One has to eat that to know complete happiness of mind, body and soul.  But the highlight of the evening for me was literally a high inducing humble looking wine. Into the wee hours, after the boisterous merrymaking was more or less done and those that remained began plonking into chairs and putting up their feet on the nearest tables, glasses with watery milky looking liquid began to appear in many hands. Yeeow, 'Lao Pani' someone said, rather derisively. That turned out to be the colloquial term for the local spirit and boy! it should be bottled pronto and sold all over. Light, a touch of tang and sweet, it was certainly the discovery of the  evening.        

Before we go anywhere, the main programme that we focus on is food and eating! It's like a family mantra, pet puja first and everything else later. Assamese food has always been among the top of the pops on my must-eat list but apart from some hurried meals in the passing or dining at some homes,  Guwahati was not the place that one had scouted around for the best eateries. This time we planned to remedy that but given the short time, it could be at best two places.  The endeavour began right at our doorstep. Call it an auspicious beginning or whatever but it was a pleasant surprise to walk in for breakfast and find a corner solely for Assamese Jolpan complete with Pita, Doi and Khoi at the Taj Vivanta.  The mekhela chador clad lady, manning the counter, did a nifty job of turning the delicacies one after another. The quaint little 'kettli pita' was also there. The freshly ground rice mixture is wrapped up in muslin and steamed on top of a boiling kettle. Reminded me of the childhood joke that we never tired of - James Watt figured out how to harness steam and invented the steam engine whereas all the Assamese did was make kettli pita!

Going to Paradise was the worst hell ride. Paradise is the best place for traditional Assamese fare we had been told by one and all. It is also one the oldest having been founded in 1951. So Paradise it had to be, but what we didn't account for was that it was also Saraswati Puja day, which is like the unofficial Valentine's Day in Guwahati. All educational institutions in the city were holding gala functions which meant students, from tiny tots to university goers,  dressed in their best attires thronged the streets. Traffic barely moved and a point even the Valentine's Day joke turned stale; if youngster wanted to 'make eyes at each other' in Indian parlance, did they have to bring everything else to a standstill? To make matters worse every member of our group seemed to have different ideas about where exactly Paradise was located. 

  

The ugly mood however evaporated fast. Dining at Paradise does that. First came the cup of gooseberry appetiser served with biscuit like savoury. It was in one word, awesome. The spouse couldn't believe when he saw pigeon and duck on the menu; he had struck mother lode! We all decided to go for the thali, but with personal options when it came to the protein. The Assamese can take a bow for the delectable fare that they turn up- no overload of oil and spice and amazing use of local ingredients. Try having tenga curry, fish in a tangy gravy with chunks of elephant apple (ou tenga) and you will realise how to marry unusual elements in a delicious way.  Or fish generously smeared with mustard paste, bundled up in banana leaves and steamed. As you open the leafy packages the whiff of mustard is enough to make anyone salivate. Taking on all  the heavyweight items in the thali, was a little banana leaf lined bowl bearing khorisaa or grated fresh bamboo, a slice of lemon (the local scented one), green chili and above all kharoli or little mustard paste balls.  

 

 

 

  

Once is never enough! The next destination had to be Heritage Khorikaa. That's Chef Atul Lashkar's restaurant where he showcases the best of North East India cuisine. This time we said no to the thali and opted for selections from the menu. The spouse couldn't understand why among other things I had to pick up alu pitika and baigan pitika (mashed potatoes Assamese style and egg plant bharta, simply fire roasted and not cooked to death as in North India) until he tried them out! Then there was pork with lai xaag (pork cooked with local mustard leaves, sans any spice whatsoever) The taste left no complaints but the service certainly needs shaking up!

No restaurants or chefs can however provide that ambiance, that feeling of unconditional welcome as when you go to an old friend's gorgeous home and find a loaded dining table waiting for you. What made it all the more special was that while the friend and I were gadding about town, her husband had supervised the meal right down to muri ghonto! That for the uninitiated is spicy fish head curry. There were my favourites - pork with lai xaag and steamed mustard fish too. Its at moments like this the realisation sinks in that if you have been friends from a young age, time, distance and intermittent communications cannot take away anything from the special bond.