Was It A Dream?

 by Nandita Tiwari

Hello again, friends! Here's another story by Nandita Tiwari for you to enjoy. Thanks for the laughs, Nandita. This is a story from her husband Akhil's bachelor days, and the writer narrates it in his voice.   Got your cup of tea ? Read on!

Two colossal pinkish-grey pillars were hit by my Yezdi at midnight at the slopes of Aibheel. A deafening sound followed, piercing the silence of the night. Was it a dream?!

Pix by Akhil Tiwari

A stag party was being hosted by Shashi Menon at his bachelor bungalow in Satkayah division of Aibheel T.G. where the food was rolling and the liquor was flowing. Needless to say, the stags turned wild in due course of the merriment. Mahesh Moktan, Kevin David and Suresh Kartha were among the few party animals. As the party was nearing its end, I thanked my host slurring a bit and that’s when my host offered, “Why don’t you stay the night, Akhil?” But I decided to carry on. So I mounted my bike fully clad and prepared for the chilly December night. 

With the woollen cap covering my ears, bike gloves snug into my palms, my fleece jacket buttoned up to the collar and my practical winter boots, I vroomed my bike, feeling no less than a hero in my tipsy state. The next day happened to be a kaamjaari day, which would begin sharp at six a.m. As I sped on my bike from the warmth of the bonfire party of the bungalow into the cold night air, my breath became visible in foggy wisps. The ice-cold wind went through my jacket like a hot knife cutting through butter.

The blackness of the night made for an eerie uncertainty. I sped along the rugged pathway, meandering, mounting and dismounting through the valleys and the peaks of the hillock. I felt no lesser than an invincible F1 racer. The speeding shadows of the trees and the rustling of the leaves was alluring which added to the surrealism of the night. Suddenly I froze. It was hard to shove aside the worries that something creepy lurked around the corner. Was it my muddled state of mind or the squally weather? I was sozzled after all. Nevertheless, I carried on.

However, the uncanniness of the night magnified when a little away from me, right in the middle of the road there emerged two huge pinkish-grey pillars. I jammed my brakes hard but because of the wet sloping road the mo-bike skid and crashed right into one of the pillars. Screeching, the bike came to a halt and a deafening sound followed, piercing the silence of the night. Was it a dream?! I pinched myself and knew that I was in the middle of the road on a dark night. Bleary-eyed I reversed back wiping the cold sweat dribbling down my chin. I decided to retreat to the safety of one of the nearest bungalows.

I reached the factory bungalow occupied by Mahesh Moktan and called out seeking shelter for the night in his bungalow - narrating the incident of the collision to him. He gaped at me with disbelief! Saying that the cocktail of fire, the windy cold night and lots of booze had fazed me out, he was kind enough to lead me to his guest room and I plonked on the bed, thankful for the warmth of the blanket!

The next morning, a knock at the door woke me up. I drank in my surroundings along with a hot cup of tea, a tad surprised due to my heavy head. I was ready to take the day head on! Yet again I saddled my Yezdi with a different mindset and rode on. Now the same curvy pathways which looked rugged and savage at night were lush and verdant in the lights of the dawn. 

The sky was glowing even though the sun was still below the horizon, getting ready to peak out. The colours of the tea bushes returned to golden green which had been dark and velvety at night. The morning breeze was fresh on my face. Birds twittered on the treetops. As I rode down the path I could hear the rapids of the stream flick against the boulders. The gurgling of water flowing was like music to my ears. Aware of my surroundings, I vroomed on the camel-hump like roads of Aibheel which lead to the highway.

Suddenly my eyes met elephant droppings at three places. So I got off my bike to inspect them- as the incident of my mo-bike colliding into pinkish-grey pillars at midnight seemed rather unnatural. Now as  I looked around lighting a cigarette, everything was fresh and pristine. I also noticed the muddy tyre marks of a bike. But I had to reach my destination so I rode on. Just at the intersection of the crossroads of Aibheel and Indong Tea Estate, a few of the elephant squad Chowkidars huddled, immersed in serious discussion. Yet again I had to stop to enquire what the discussion was all about.

They told me in their words, “Gazab ho gaya saab kal raat ko”- (the unbelievable happened last night). From the valley where the squad stood, through their mashalls and flashlights they had seen a single headlight of a noisy motorcycle which had probably hit an elephant. They guessed as much because suddenly there was a loud trumpeting in the silent night. They went on to add that the noisy mo-bike and the collision had made the Ganesh Maharajas anxious. They said that there were eleven Ganesh Maharaj (elephants) out of which eight had gone towards Mattelli (another tea estate in the vicinity) and three towards Aibheel. After the incident, these three Ganeshjis ran towards Indong and trampled their paddy fields.

That’s when it hit me that the pinkish-grey pillars which I had hit at the stroke of midnight were indeed colossal legs of an elephant! The deafening trumpeting which I had heard last night confirmed that they were indeed Grand Maharajas. It wasn’t a dream after all. I thanked my stars that I was safe and alive.

Then I quipped, “Do you know It was me on that motorcycle at midnight”, and the elephant squad retorted “Kyu dillagi kar rahe ho saab?” (Why are you joking around with us saab). Without another word and a wry smile, I continued to ride on gliding along the beautiful Chulsa tea estate!

Pix by Ashish Sanghwan

Pix by Akhil Tiwari

Meet the writer: Nandita Tiwari

Nandita joined the tea fraternity in 1991 when she arrived in Danguajhar in the Dooars. She and her husband Akhil were in various gardens in the Dooars for over 30 years, and also in Amgoorie (Assam) for a brief period of time. They are now settled in Siliguri.

In 2019, Nandita decided to start penning down some of the unique experiences that came her way.

 You can read her stories on her own blog, here: https://nanditat6.wixsite.com/rosee-t

 

 

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My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale; maybe long, short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. You will find yourself transported to another world! 
 
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