Shubhankar Chowdhury

Of the twenty-two years of my life, all of them, I have lived in Shillong. This city, called by many as the Scotland of the East, is the capital of Meghalaya; and was once the capital of an undivided Assam, post-Independence. This city has seen a lot, the British Raj, the fear of a Japanese Invasion, the fear of a Chinese Invasion, riots, you name it.

It is a city with a vast history, and I am but a product of that history, a witness to its present and, hopefully, a part of its future.

The winter mornings here are beautiful.

The frost covers the grass all over the Upper Shillong area, and the yellowish-green grass illuminates a dreamy white glow that lasts till the wee hours of the morning until the bright yellow sun rays hit the grass and start melting the frost. The sky is blue, a deep blue color that I haven’t seen anywhere else, in all of the places I have been to.

There are clouds scattered throughout the sky, changing their colors every minute, under the light of the sun. At one moment, they appear red; at the next moment, they turn golden and finally white. The air is so cold, one feels like there are hundreds of needles piercing the skin - but I love it. I love the cold; I love the numbness it brings because it’s a part of me, and I, a part of it.

In school, we would play football before the morning assembly - from 7:30 AM to 9:00 AM - and we would feel the air against our skin and the dew on our feet - absorbed by our football boots. Even in the cold months of November, our shirts would be wet with sweat till the end of school - that is how much we loved playing and loved the environment we were born into.

Be it Durga Puja, Christmas, Diwali, or Eid, I have celebrated all of these festivals. Not a single year went by without Adil calling us to his place for Eid ki Dawat, nor did I miss the Durga Puja Visarjan from my grandmother’s colony; My house has been decorated with lights on Diwali and Christmas, every year. The medium-sized pine tree at home has served as our Diwali decorative tree, as well as our reusable Christmas tree, every year.

Durga Puja pandal hopping is fun, with localities like Rilbong, Jail Road, Rynjah erecting the most magnificent pandals every year. The streets are alive with food stalls, toy shops selling plastic guns with round yellow bullets, and people who make designs of Mehendi for their customers. It is like a carnival for 5 days all over the town. The Diwali vibe is best seen in Jhalupara, a locality on the outskirts of Shillong, which makes the best momos in town. It is also the Wild West of the city, the streets always bustling with people and people bursting crackers a week before Diwali - that excitement, coupled with the cold air, brings a weird feeling of nostalgia, one that is unexplainable, but very familiar.

During Christmas, the entire city is decorated with lights, and all the lights are of the same color, giving the city a synchronized look as if everyone is celebrating the festival together. In the heart of the city, Police Bazar, a stage is constructed and concerts go on all night, on Christmas eve and New Year’s eve. A week before Christmas, people take to the streets and sing carols in processions spanning entire localities.

The dominant culture here is that of the Khasi community, which is mostly an oral tradition, and they have amazing myths which have survived for years. There is a waterfall, in Sohra, about 50 km from Shillong, called Dan-Thlein (Cutting Snake).

Legend has it, that many years ago, there was a huge snake that would devour travelers. One day, the villagers decided to capture the snake and kill it, tying it with ropes. They killed the snake and chopped its body to pieces which over the years have solidified into the huge boulders that rest at the bottom of the waterfall. Almost all places here are associated with some sort of myth, be it stone giants fighting, or talking animals attending meetings that end up going south. Even the name ‘Shillong’ is taken from the name of a Khasi God, ‘U Blei Shillong.’

Years of memories and nostalgia cannot be compiled into one single article, but in the end, all I would like to say is that although I am going away from this city to make my career, I will never leave this city. This is the only place I know, and also want to be my home and I can never imagine life without it. Through thick or thin, happiness or sadness, one fact will never change, SHILLONG MEANS HOME!