Island of enchantment
@PrimroseDSouza
@krishnaprabakar
LIFE BECOMES SIMPLE WHEN WE STEP OFF THE PLANE IN JORHAT…
We walk out of the Defence airport into a world of bamboo fences. On the way to the ferry point, we drive past dry paddy fields, the playground of short-legged goats and an unidentified avian character that looks suspiciously like Big Bird. Under a powderblue sky dotted with fluffy, very white clouds, we crawl behind bands of straggling cattle. And, then, suddenly, the Brahmaputra is beside us, with massive sand bars putting up a last stand before the annual showers will force them to disappear under the surface of the mighty river.
A FERRY WAITS AT NEEMATI…
We must share it with two-wheelers and cars. There’s a good-natured party going on in the hold – mothers and children, couples, guys in identical tracksuits all crammed together. It’s chilly on the river, but refreshingly so. The sun glints on the wave caps as we chug away from the bank and toward the centre of the river. A little boy shares his snack with us. The 70-odd people on board spend the one-hour ride to Majuli without digital aids, entertained by babies who charm everyone, blowing flying kisses at virtual strangers under the indulgent eye of their parents.
MAJULI WELCOMES US BY TESTING OUR IMPATIENCE…
Our car is the last to roll off the ferry. After the 75 passengers, the (seemingly) 3,000 bikes, their riders and the rest of the world. We smile as we wait and mean it. Then, Jagat speeds us to , sitting like rustic jewels topped with the pink illumination of the coming night. The monkeys pound on the tin roofs, the crickets set up a chorus; in the distance, I hear the shouts of men and boys enjoying a last game of cricket in the dying light. Loath to waste any chance to soak up the atmosphere, Krishna and I walk down to the market. The trees form an unthreatening canopy above us, older children are
