India: Day 9 – Independence Day
Tuesday the 15th was Independence Day. I woke up in the morning to find a scorpion in the bathroom, whom I clobbered to death with a flip-flop. I figured that leaving it alone to go seek help might give it a chance to hide somewhere and threaten us later. I paid off my karmic debt in a few minutes by letting a trapped cicada out of the house. Having lodged itself between a shoe and the door, the insect zoomed off into the garden when I threw open the door and pushed the shoe out.
It was an
uncharacteristically early morning for the rest of the group. Just before
eight, we journeyed to the tea factory, where a flag hoisting ceremony was to
take place. Lining up in front of the flagpole, the (all male) workers lined up
as the factory manager made a speech and watched the flag go up, dropping
purple flower petals from its folds. The manager then led the men in a somewhat
unmelodic rendering of the national anthem. From the few words we managed to
make out, it seems to be a geographical survey of India’s states and major
rivers, with a few words on the glory of India. The session ended with a few
chants, namely “Jai Hind” (Victory to Hindustan) and “Vande Mataram” (I praise
you, motherland).
Our plan for after breakfast
was to make a trip to the city of Darjeeling. Sparsh’s mother had made tiranga
(“tricolour”) sandwiches, representing the colours of the Indian flag with
tomato chutney, cheese, and coriander chutney. After about half an hour of
driving, we hit major traffic on the narrow road to Kurseong. Everyone, it
seems, had gotten the same idea we did, and the queue stretched far beyond our
sight along the hillside. After a few minutes of waiting, we decided to turn
the cars around. As an alternative to our Darjeeling plans, we descended
several hundred metres to make an excursion through the lower reaches of the
tea estate.
First, however, Sparsh
wanted to stop by another Independence Day celebration. Since the lower
portions of the tea estate are quite far from Sparsh’s house, the family visits
less often, and Sparsh was intent on showing his face to maintain good
relations. Our cars arrived at a small football field on the side of a hill.
Sitting and standing on the slope above it were colourfully dressed groups of
men and women, and on the opposite side was a heavily decorated roofed tribune
for VIPs: the munshis and sardars in charge of the estate.
Our group caused quite
a stir when we arrived. Although Sparsh initially had us wait on the sidelines
while he went to make a speech at the tribune, the event’s organisers quickly
snatched us up and sat us down on the VIP seats. While we waited, they dressed
us in tricolour ribbons and handed us sweets, drinks, and juice-boxes. It was perplexing
that on the day of India’s Independence, a group of Oxford students should receive
such fawning treatment.
It began to rain as
soon as we stepped out of the car to make our excursion. We felt sorry for the
people who had just hosted us at their celebration, since they had prepared the
football field for dancing and a friendly match. Especially during the monsoon,
every drop of rain presages a downpour, and today was no different. For some,
the hike became a struggle to stay dry – and to keep our electronics from being
damaged – while others embraced the experience and returned to the house
completely soaked. We did, however, see a few monkeys and peacocks in the
grey-speckled distance.
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