It was many moons ago.
Yet, this memory unfailingly visits every
winter.
The fire crackled deliciously against an inky
blue sky. Lured by the promise of heat, I’d move in too close, only to have a
delinquent strand of wool from my sweater singe with a hiss, pushing me back in
alarm.
Amma - the matriarch of my Lepcha host family - and I were having a conversation.
We paused often, to sip some potent chaang and nibble on hot pakodas.
Her arthritis bothered her, she said; the cold weather
didn’t help. She was disdainful that she now sat on chairs. A rug on the floor
had been her favourite perch. "I felt connected" she said.
I spoke about my visit to Gurudongmar Lake, a
spiritual journey for the locals. Amma
wondered if the weather hadn’t been too inhospitable. "Even we don’t visit in
winter."
"Did you pray for a son?"
I burst out laughing. Amma joined me with a full-throated laugh, her crinkled skin folding
into an intricate origami. The rarity of her laughter brought one of her daughters running. She
smiled and placed her palm on amma’s
shoulders, before returning to the kitchen.
Amma spoke the language of the
Lepchas. And only that. I, the traveller, spoke English and Hindi. And only that. Yet we conversed each evening, by the fire - the
only time she allowed herself a break from chores. Mt. Khangchendzonga, benevolent to her children and
ruthless to those who trespassed, towered over us.
Yes, this memory unfailingly visits every
winter.
Dzongu - a region ravaged by the construction
of a hydel power plant, yet, tenacious.
Khangchendzonga - the guardian mother of
Dzongu, and the Lepchas.
Dzongu, whose river was soon to be silenced,
disappearing underground to provide electricity for bustling cities far, far
away.
I, living in one of those bustling cities,
often wondering whether Dzongu survived.
Unfailingly, every winter, it comes back to me.
Lovely write-up, Raji. Loved reading your communication with 'Amma'. Some memories always come back, to remind us of a beautiful time spent, a beautiful moment, a tender moment. That's the beauty of memories :)
ReplyDeleteYour mention of Gurudongmar Lake brought back memories for me too. I can still feel the cold in my bones, the beauty and stillness of the lake, so crystal clear, the dizziness in my head - my first visit at that altitude,. And oh! I can never forget the beauty of the snow clad mountains around.
Sheila, thanks :). Yes, memories are my most precious take-away from any trip.
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