Independence Day is nearing and patriotism has reached its crescendo across the country. There will be celebrations, songs, flags and speeches rousing nationalism. But is this all that we get from our independence or did our great leaders dream of a different India? With time many things have changed, even our dreams. In the small hill town of Shillong, the change is starker and not many senior citizens could welcome it. Their paradise is lost yet they hold on to the memories of yesteryears which are fading too.
Sunday Shillong spoke to a few senior citizens who had witnessed the metamorphosis of the city over the last few decades and tried to find out whether the change was for good. Though for many, Shillong’s new avatar is saddening but some have taken it in true spirit. “There’s always two sides of a story, isn’t it,” someone had commented. And we take heart from the brighter side of it.
The Assam-type house surrounded by concrete structures in Lower Lumparing shows signs of ageing. So does Hynret Dkhar Wanlang who, sitting at the door, gazes at oblivion, probably trying to make sense out of the rapid change around her. The 93-year-old “grandmother” finds it difficult to come to terms with the new face of Shillong, which has experienced a transformation that is unfathomable to most citizens of Wanlang’s age.
Wanlang was born on February 14, 1926, and grew up in a Shillong that was part of the undivided Assam state under the British government. When asked about the city back in her young days, Wanlang got nostalgic. At 93, her memory might not be the best friend but Wanlang tries her best to share her memories.
“It was a different city. There were no cars and no honking, forget about traffic snarls. We had to walk from one place to another,” was the first thing that she said. Wanlang grew up in Malki and studied in St Mary’s School. She took up a job as nanny with a British family before independence. Three years after the country became free, she was living in the tea gardens of Karimpur (Bangladesh) with the British family. “The English people knew how to treat their employees. They were like family,” she said.
As the causerie continued, Wanlang tried to weave together her fading memories. She remembered an incident that happened before 1947. “I was travelling with the memsahib in the family’s car in Nagaon and suddenly it started to pelt stones from all sides. We were scared but escaped unscathed,” she narrated.
And how does she remember Shillong? By its good people, was the prompt answer. “People were friendly and loved each other. There was no hatred and one could trust even strangers. It was much like the pristine nature of the state,” she said in a muffled voice.
Wanlang has seen a lot — the change in the people in Shillong, the bloodshed, the riots and the urbanisation. “Now nothing is like the old times. There are no old neighbours too,” she said.
Wanlang refuses to leave her old house and stay in an RCC building. “Mother says she feels claustrophobic. So she stays alone in this house and we stay in the nearby building. She is old but has no ailments and does not believe in new-age medicines. Her only medicine is prayer,” said Wanlang’s 72-year-old daughter Margaret Rose Dkhar Wanlang.
“So far so good,” said the grandmother. The diminutive figure rose up to go inside as the evening chill grew.
He is only 82 and much younger than Wanlang but age has taken a toll on Noren Bareh, a resident of Lawsohtun.
Bareh, who was born on July 1, 1937, was more than keen to speak about the changing face of the city, especially its politics. He worked in the Army’s artillery division from 1956 to 1973 and was “probably the first Khasi to be there”.
Bareh was a child when India got freedom but he still has memories of the pre-independence period. The first thing he said when asked about the Shillong in that era was that there was no dirty politics. “People were straight and peace prevailed,” the wrinkled face brightened up. Indeed, when the inferno was blazing through the entire country, Shillong remained cocooned in its peaceful abode and hardly experienced the freedom struggle.
However, Bareh mentioned about the rulers’ partiality and discrimination against the coloured skin. When freedom came, there were cheers and people gathered in Polo. “There were fireworks but most of the celebrations were in Polo,” he recollected.
But what did the freedom bring for the people in Shillong. “Not much. The Indian government started politics with its own people in the North East, which remained poor and ill-treated,” said Bareh as he vigorously nodded his head.
At times, “I feel the British rule was better than what we are seeing now. There are too many political parties and much politicisation of issues. Those were innocent times”, he said and felt quiet, his brooding eyes could put anyone in a dilemma — is this freedom for real?
K Sohtun does not remember her date of birth. “I am nearing 100,” she laughed showing her almost toothless gums. The pink sweater worn carelessly over the jainkyrshah, Sohtun’s milk white hair and the numerous lines on her face made her look ancient. But there was something in her countenance that no one can miss — her eyes, which have not lost the youthfulness.
Sohtun has a completely different take on the changing face of Shillong. In fact, when asked to share stories of pre-independence Shillong, she blatantly said, “I am embarrassed to talk about those times.”
After cajoling for some time, she agreed to talk. Sohtun said there were no facilities in those days. There was no transportation and one could not travel everywhere. There was no electricity and people lived in darkness. “What was so great about those times? True, people were good but it was not that there were no bad people in our time,” said the grandmother who is known in the neighbourhood for her prudence and straightforwardness.
She also told stories about how army men would roam around the city and showed high-handedness. They even outraged the modesty of women without qualms. “A family with a beautiful girl had to be cautious,” she said, adding, “Can one think about doing such things these days without getting punished?”
Sohtun loves the post-independence time because people can travel to wherever they want and need not live in darkness, “all thanks to science and technology”.
“The point is, there is good and bad in all times. The city has changed a lot and I feel it is for good,” she said with a conviction.
Sven Majaw, 95, does not feel comfortable when asked about old times. “I don’t remember anything except a few things from my childhood,” said Majaw sitting in her field. “I remember when we were children, British army would go past our neighbourhood and throw candies but we were too scared to pick those up as we thought there was some kind of magic in them,” she laughed and excused herself as she had too much work in the field.
Nilima Das Chaudhuri, 96, of Rilbong has faint memories of Shillong in the pre-independence period. All she could remember was her childhood in Sylhet. Chaudhuri came to Shillong in 1946 with her husband, who was in the police department. “Shillong was different. The weather, the air here, the people… everything was different. There were not too many houses. That’s all I can remember,” said Chaudhuri, who is from Sadhuhati Satrosoti village in Sylhet district in Bangladesh.
The only source of information was the radio in those days.
She said unlike today, women in those days would not go out all the time and “I only went out with my husband or with the family”.
Though she could not recollect much about Shillong, she could remember, albeit vaguely, some personal incidents.
“Once my husband crossed the Tamabil border in boat and was arrested in Bangladesh. I had to take special permission to go and meet him,” she narrated.
Chaudhuri had nothing much to add and had no opinion about the change yet her countenance changed every time she spoke about the pre-independence day in Sylhet and Shillong. Perhaps the segmented memories of the good old days work as an elixir for the 96-year-old who has no ailment and leads a healthy life.
(Contributed by Marbah
Kharsati, Olivia Lyngdoh Mawlong & Nabamita Mitra)