It was sometime in Dec 1989 when I and my brother were travelling from Guwahati (Assam) to Shillong (Meghalaya). Before undertaking the journey we had to stay at the army’s transit camp (which was just outside the Guwahati railway station) where all defence personals take a break journey before proceeding towards Arunachal Pradesh or Nagaland or any of the north-eastern states by road. We had to stay at the camp till the fog cleared on the route to Shillong.
Once we got the clearance we started immediately by jeep. The distance being just a 100 kms, we were told that it would take about 3 hrs to reach Shillong. We started at 5 pm and in no time it was dark. The jeep started making jerks mid-way as we felt we were running out of gas. As the jeep slowed down we were over taken by a lorry who’s driver shouted saying that our jeeps silencer had caught fire. We jammed brakes, got down and ran away from the jeep. The driver didn’t panic but took out one of the water bottles and threw water on the silencer. The driver said that we couldn’t go further as the jeep had broken down and he needed to call the unit to send us a recovery vehicle. We were in the middle of a forest and didn’t have a clue on how to contact the unit at Shillong.
It was past 7pm, cold, foggy and pitch dark with no lights around. The driver said that he’ll try to stop any army vehicle coming or going for help, meanwhile my brother was searching for place to answer nature’s call when he shouted…“Hey! I can see some light coming from that hut downhill.” I told the driver to continue what he’s good at and we both will go down the hill to get some assistance.
I and my brother slowly walked down the hill and knocked at the door. A 50 year old chinky tribal looking guy opened the door…before he could ask us I asked him…“Chai milegi”? The man couldn’t understand. I asked him again in Hindi- if we could get a mechanic as our vehicle had broken down. The man was clueless, my brother started guessing on how to explain the man…as the man asked- “Why don’t you both come in?” in English…we were completely zapped!!! I asked him how come he knew the language; he said it was their local lingo.
We both sat down inside as the man went in to get us some tea. We looked around his walls which had a few paintings, arrows and a huge poster of the then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi and Amitabh Bachchan. My brother asked the man if he was more of a fan of the PM or AB. The man replied that he didn’t know who the posters were of but all he knew was that the right side poster was of a man who acts in Hindi films and got injured while shooting in 1982. Before we could ask why he didn’t know about our country’s PM, our driver shouted…“Sir, recovery van mil gaya!” We soon thanked the man and asked if we need to pay for the Tea, he said- “No, you are my guests!” We both thanked him again and left his hut to be carried away to Shillong by the recovery vehicle only to realize how much our Bollywood actors over power our politicians.
Ha ha. Good one.
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