The road to Tawang, we were to realize later, was not much of a road, but just long winding uphill switchbacks of inedible chocolate slurry held intermittently together by patches of tar and boulders. But further on, until we reached Bum La (not to be confused with Bomdila, a mountain pass in the same reason which lies at a lower altitude about mid-way between Tezpur and Tawang) there was just no road! And the earlier stretch suddenly seemed a freeway.
The LTT-Guwahati Express chugged lazily into Guwahati station a good 12 hours late. Confined into the packed coach for 65 hours from the time we boarded in Mumbai, rigor mortis had almost set in. If it hadn’t fully debilitated us (i was with a same gender travel partner), it was perhaps thanks to the periodic swigs of Single Malt from the hip flask.
Reaching Phulbari camp site, set in a pristine tea estate, a short drive from Tezpur, it was the impeccable hospitality of the army that quickly infused life into us again. With the Commanding Officer of the unit a friend, things had to be better than just perfect. Contrary to popular belief, it was here we learnt that tea estates donot necessarily have to be located on hill slopes. This one, alongwith several other sprawling acres were on sheer plains, with deep ruts in between rows of tea bush to prevent bush roots from rotting from stagnating rain water.
The town of Tawang has a single approach road from Tezpur, passing through the valley through the better known towns of Bhalukpong (with its quaint nursery of delicate orchids), Bomdila (a hill feature at 8000ft) and the picturesque town of Dhirang in the West Kameng district of Arunachal Pradesh. A number of army units dot the landscape enroute, with gurgling streams rushing to meet the impressive Kameng river, faithfully keeping company all along. Across the Sela Pass at 13000ft one enters the district of Tawang. The Pass with a pristine lake alongside has its own story of utmost bravado displayed by the Indian Army, especially Subedar Major Jaswant Singh, during the Chinese invasion of 1962.
We’re informed it was he who single handedly held back the advancing enemy’s onslaught famously termed ‘the human wave’ for three days and three nights before he fell to the enemy but not before he had taken two hundred of them with him! A Chinese graveyard bears testimony to this ultimate call of duty. Story has it that, not only did that act help his fellow soldiers to retreat to safer locales, the enemy was forced to take stock of their massive losses and slowed down their battle advance in this sector. Such is the respect Jaswant Singh commands at Jaswant Garh even today that each evening, the regiment commander reports the day’s proceedings in the presence of the regiment soldiers, with Jaswant Singh’s bust ‘presiding’ over the briefing.
We finally completed the rough and tumble drive, 274kms in all, over two days of long hour drives through mind-numbing landscape and arrived at Tawang(12000ft). Putting behind us an early morning prayer session for all things good at the massive Tawang monastery (see pic), which dwarfs the town, we quickly completed formalities with the authorities for a pass to visit Bom La. The Inner Line Permit (ILP), mandatory to be obtained at Guwahati, is valid only until Tawang. Beyond this point the army calls all the shots, quite literally, and additional paper work is required to move any further.
Bum La, at 15000ft above sea, is home to the last Indian Army check-post on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in this sector. LAC, also called the McMohan Line, is an imaginary and often disputed border between India and China. The surface connectivity (as it cannot be called a road by any definiton) from Tawang to Bum La, all of 30kms, takes only(!) two hours to complete. Two hours for 30kms? Yes, longer if you have had a spliced vertebra or a ruptured spinal disc. Both, quite distinct possibilities, given the terrain.
Greeted by the effervescent Subedar Sohan Singh, we were immediately put at ease by the unit and taken to the ‘Friendship Point’ where one is supposed to offer a small rock onto a pile as a mark of Indo-Sino friendship.
For some strange reason a truckload of Chinese soldiers led by their officer (who later identified himself as Captain Fem Lai) were spotted on the other side of the LAC. Enquiries revealed that some preparations were on for the National Day which falls on 1st Oct each year. (The PRC was founded on October 1, 1949).
What shocked us beyond belief was the smooth black top road right after the Indian territory ended and theirs began! One could cruise a vehicle at 60kmph or more on those roads. And what’s more, this road quality stretched right until the eyes could see. And here we were on our side coming agonizingly to terms with a ridiculously rough ride quality at 20kmph! In the distance was also visible the Chinese radar tower powered by windmills, all weather brick and mortar barracks for atleast a hundred soldiers and solar panels to power them. In comparison, we yet had to commission our diesel run generator sets and had dodgy arrangements for our jawans. Why so? I began to ponder.
In the midst of this thought, Chinese soldiers enthusiastically huddled around us civilian visitors with boisterous calls of ‘Money. Money, change?’ Five Rupees to a Yuan is the going rate which is all done in the spirit of friendliness. So we did some small exchange just when Captain Lai offered us a smoke, which we both politely refused being non-smokers. I began with how smoking may be a health hazard at such altitudes and clearly I could sense that the last thing the soldier had in mind was to listen to an Indian's sermon. I backed off.
And suddenly he challenged me to a game of ‘panja’ (arm wrestling). College years flashed back and pushed the adrenalin in me and I found myself immediately taking him on. Although inclined into fitness routines, I was totally oblivious to the fact that it had been almost 50 years since i had been a burden on earth. Not just that, he would be a lot younger and professionally trained to fight in mountain terrain, unlike me who was yet struggling to get acclimatized! Too late. I had committed. Bitten the bullet, so to say. Somehow, I had confused myself into believing that a victory here would be a win for the nation! So we set ourselves up. Each gauging the strength of the other whilst locking our palms together. We were eyeball to eyeball close as we crouched into position. Our elbows rested on a rock nearby that served as a table. Sinews went taut as we strained against each other. Someone called “Go” and we both went for it. For what seemed eternity the forearms dint budge. Each matched the other ounce to ounce of force. With both sides cheering, we continued giving it all we had. For the tiny frame the officer carried, he was mighty strong. And the groan and grunt went on. As I heaved with all I could, I began to get a sense of advantage. By now, a good minute into the ‘duel’, my heart was pumping crazily. Lungs protested. I couldn’t quit now. With one final inhalation of whatever oxygen I could get from the thin mountain air, I yanked. This got my opponent in a hopeless position from where he could never have won. But I was wary of him, much the same way as the world is of the Chinese! This is all I could give. I just had enough calories to hang in few more seconds. Thankfully and much to my relief, at the same time, he began to realize, that victory wasn’t his to be, he pulled away. Our camp was ecstatic. I had won! India had won, or so it felt. I was over many moons. My arm, it felt, had left me. I managed to mumble some consolations and amidst much display of bonhomie from both sides, we parted ways.
Once back in the camp tent, Sohan Singh, with a smile befitting a victorious troop commander, offered me a plate of steaming hot suji-ka-halwa saying in typical Punjabi accented Hindi “Ji, aap ne toh dat kar jawab diya”. ( You gave him a befitting reply). And thinking of the feats our men at the borders accomplish, mine was not even comparable, much less praise-worthy. I felt humbled. Yet, I soaked in the moment. Bidding goodbye, we began our roller coaster ride back to Tawang, making it past the last check post barely within stipulated time.
It is a great story to tell friends and my kids back home, I mused. I arm-wrestled a Chinese army officer. And won.
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