[Vijaylakshmi Nagaraj]
Itanagar was home. Our house in Sector D had evolved into a beautiful home. It had a beautiful garden and a spacious backyard moving onto a hill behind the house. Mother had planted pineapple and potatoes on the slopes and we never tired of eating home grown juicy pineapples and potato fries.
Our visits to Itanagar had to be planned as we could not enter without an inner line permit. Father would organise this and come to pick me and my family from Harmuti station. How can I ever forget the train halting at the station past midnight for just two minutes, my husband throwing down the luggage to the side of the rail track as there was no platform, then quickly helping me and our little daughter down. From the train to the ground, along the track was a steep climb down, to be manoeuvred very carefully.
It was pitch dark with only a dim light from the chai wala’s pushcart. Father would receive us with a torch in his hand. We would go up to Doimukh and sometimes halt in a guesthouse to be safe as there were elephants moving around.
Our stay in Itanagar was always so memorable. When TL Rajkumar was the speaker, we had the privilege of meeting him. He had studied at the Military School, Bangalore; my husband was his senior.
It was wonderful to meet all the friends of my parents. They were like one big family, caring for each other in times of need.
In 1979, our second daughter Aarti was born in the Itanagar general hospital. Dr Das was the gynaecologist. It was past midnight and the electricity went off. I was lying on the labour table, no lights, and my parents were very worried. Father being who he was, spoke to some official to start the generator at the hospital.
Lights came on and our little one arrived at 3:05 am.
I remember Jikim Riba aunty, who was a dear friend of my parents. She too was expecting her child around the same time and one afternoon she walked past our house, telling my mother that she was going to the hospital.
After two hours, she was back home after her delivery. My mother soon went to see her taking some sweets and food. This was the bond they had.
Memories like these are so precious. Both our daughters loved the visits to their grandparents. Open spaces to play in the garden, eat juicy pineapples grown at home and run around happily.
Just a few days before our second daughter was born, our three-year-old daughter Anuradha wanted to see the circus which had come to Itanagar. She was very excited as my father had promised to come home early and take us all to the circus, the most loved entertainment of those days. She couldn’t wait for her grandfather to come from office. So, when my father’s peon Nora came home around 3 pm to keep father’s tiffin carrier, as lunch was sent to him in the office, Anu insisted on going with him on the cycle to her grandfather’s office to tell him to come home soon.
Father came home at 4:30 pm to take us to the circus. When he came, we were surprised that Anu was not with him.
On being asked, he replied that she had not come to his office.
We all went into a tizzy as we just didn’t know where Anu was. We checked with my younger sister and her husband; she was not there. I was very upset, so also my parents.
We all went in different directions to look for her. Father and I walked along the only main road and, as we neared the Barapani area, we saw some women collecting water. We asked them and they pointed towards the hospital. On reaching there, we saw our daughter sitting quietly as the doctor was dressing the wound on her heel.
The incident that happened was that our daughter was sitting on the back seat of the cycle as Nora was taking her to my father’s office. Her leg got caught in the rear wheel and there was a deep cut.
Nora had great presence of mind and immediately took her to the Itanagar general hospital, where the doctor gave her an injection, stitched and dressed the wound.
The doctor told us how brave our three-year-old was. She just quietly sat through the whole procedure. We appreciated Nora for his prompt action; he was like our family. He did feel bad but we told him it was just an accident. He was with my parents till they left Itanagar. My parents were very fond of him.
My sister Uma was happy teaching the young tribal children when she met Jayaram, a journalist working with the UNI (United News of India). They decided to get married, and it was the first civil wedding in Itanagar. My parents were in House No 43, Sector D, where the wedding was held. This was in 1977.
My husband and I, with our two-year-old daughter, came from Kanpur. My husband was a defence officer and retired as a lieutenant general.
My mother organised the wedding single-handed, supervising the little help that she had. It was friends, our extended family, who pitched in to make the wedding so beautiful. The backyard became the main hub where we were chopping vegetables and cooking. All arrangements were made by the family. It was the talk of the town as everyone knew everyone.
My sister and her husband have now settled down in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu.
Oomen Deuri aunty, Namchum uncle and aunty, Padi Yube, PK Thungon, late Tomo Riba, and Gegong Apang were well known to father. He had great regard for them and was proud to have served with them.
The list is long and I am able to recollect these few names as my parents remembered them very often when they were around.
Mr Rao was the first chief engineer of Itanagar. His daughter and my youngest sister are still in touch with each other.
While in service, my father had taken all the legislators on a tour to different states and their legislative assemblies to understand governance. He would guide them with sincerity. He took great pride in his work. Father was in the Northeast from a very young age, worked hard, had very good knowledge about that area, made a name for himself, and was respected for his commitment to work. Our mother was beside him, without a complaint. It was not easy as life was tough, but they both became one with the people there. They loved and respected their way of life and were very happy. When my parents settled down in Noida with my brother, they often visited Arunachal Bhavan, New Delhi to meet old friends.
His conversation always went back to his life and times in Arunachal Pradesh. He would say, “I spent my best years there, my work and the love I received from the local people and friends is priceless.” Mother passed away in 2010 and father in 2016 at the age of 94.
Today, my home has many memories of Arunachal Pradesh… the beautiful Bomdila carpet, the carved wooden fruit bowl and bamboo mugs, the traditional cane and bamboo baskets and modas, beautiful tribal jewellery made of feathers, beads and bamboo. A carved Buddha head made by the Mompa tribe has a pride of place in our drawing room.
I would love to visit this amazing state again and walk down memory lane.
We as a family send our best wishes to the people of Arunachal Pradesh for peace, prosperity and wellbeing. May the Land of the Dawn-Lit Mountains shine on.
Happy golden anniversary! (The writer is an educational consultant, author and storyteller, based in Bangalore.)
