SHORT SUBATHU SOJOURN

                                 

Can the term 'Dickensian' be used in association with a market? Literary purists might shudder and maybe others might find it pretentious, but for reasons I don't know walking up and down the main market - don't go by its size please - of Subathu, the small cantonment town in Solan district,  Himachal Pradesh, Dickensian is what I was stuck on! Was it because one had heard it being described as an imperial legacy which, the British had annexed from the Gurkha kingdom of Amar Singh Thapa, who was said to have built forts to keep away the very same British? Could the colonial connections be the reason?

No, not exactly to be honest. I think it was more to do with the fact that the entire market was paved! It was a cheek-by-jowl affair with decrepit ancient wooden structures heaving and gasping to hold up alongside newer concrete affairs put up without much attention paid to any architectural elements forget aesthetics. Everything looked somewhat run down as if in desperate need of fresh oxygen despite being surrounded by hills and greenery all around.  To me it was somehow very Dickensian.

Beginning from the temple, clearly dedicated to Krishna going by the paintings all over the walls, the market rolled downhill, branching off into narrow gullies here and there. Interestingly, the temple lies above two shops, both with shutters down, one announcing a cement brand and the other a mobile service. Did that signal direction communication with the one above? The shops too were a mix of relics from the past to ones like those in any other small town market. Then suddenly it was there, a tiny jewellery store  bearing a board announcing its name as Nepali Ganesh Jewellery,  followed by everything else in Nepali!

With a Nepali cap perched on his head, the proprietor-jeweller, Ganesh tinkered away bent over a small cauldron of dying coal embers with tools that appeared centuries old. In the glassed display box were an array of typical Nepali jewellery right down to khukri shaped ear tops. He is more than happy to chat insisting that we sit down for a cup of tea, which we politely turn down keeping in mind the time factor. The usual where are you from and what are you doing here conversations follow. Ganesh is someone who clearly lived an itinerant life and suddenly he mentions Shillong, as one of the places he had lived in for sometime and breaks out into a sentence or two of Khasi as if to substantiate his claim! Still to get out of my recent Shillong visit mode, it certainly was an Alice in Wonderland moment with me fumbling with my forgotten Khasi and he throwing in more sentences.  On the way out of the market we actually lost our way and had to retrace our steps to find the exit.  We had meandered off to a section that contained tiny little houses on both sides of a lane, yes paved to eternity!

 

If Ganesh had a traditional Nepali jewellery shop, it is because of the substantial Gorkha population in the area. Subathu's link with the past remains and today it is home to the 14 Gurkha Training Centre. That's also the reason why we took a sudden on the whim detour to Subathu on the drive down from Shimla to Delhi. The locals around will tell you that's where the majority Gorkhas are in Himachal Pradesh. Or rather 'Gorkhe' as they say. Considering my roots, the plan had been to visit it someday and that someday had finally arrived, though the time available was less  than half a day. The drive to Subathu is like a drive in any hill station, winding roads, greenery around, though more brown than green considering that winter was still not over in the hills. The atmosphere suddenly change as you approach the cantonment area. It's spiffy and clean,  all bright paint, everything and everyone in its place. They say there's an army joke that goes, if it moves salute it and if it doesn't, paint it! The entry checkpoint bears a board that says, 'Roko aur Toko". If you check up Google God for English translation, it reads, 'Stop and Interrupt'.  Love the army humour.

The smile however vanishes as one sees pictures of martyred heroes, really young jawans, along the road. Remember the famous inscription at the Kohima (Nagaland)War Cemetery that says:
When you go home
Tell them of us and say
For your Tomorrow
We  gave our Today
Do we do that? Do we honour the tragic loss.....

There seem to be lots of youngsters in olives and camouflage, with a no nonsense air about them. Naturally so, after all their motto as boldly painted all over is:  Kayar Hunu Bhanda Marnu Ramro, which translates into, ' better to die than be a coward'. It is not for nothing that the Gorkha's battle cry is the simple but chilling, "Ayo Gorkhali'.  

There's also a Gurkha Fort, said to be have been built by Amar Singh Thapa and a Gurkha museum, but unfortunately that had to be put on hold.  Maybe that will be reason to go back.