Unheard, unseen, survivors - Nagaland

Packed platforms, thick jacket clad men and women with scarves around their neck and their hands in gloves and pockets – the scene at Dimapur railway station on that grey, foggy January morning. The frame that locked my eyes, while alighting from the Nagaland Express was evocative of a Classic Hollywood set. 

The picture outside the railway station, however, killed all the excitement, as it was not much distinct from that of a typical India broadcasted on Western television channels. The state of Dimapur-Kohima highway put me down doubly. Potholes after potholes would only lead to a dirt track and we were warned not to expect anything better until we closed in on the capital.

The car moved through a zigzag road cut through mountains, rather slowly, leaving behind several terraced pineapple farms and jawans of the Indian Army standing guard at regular intervals. “That is routine in the northeast,” informed Ketho, a good friend and the one who helped materialize a long pending trip to Nagaland.

Waking up to bliss!
The rays penetrating through the trees on a private estate at Medziphema. It is a township on the Dimapur-Kohima highway  and was formerly known as ''Ghaspani'' which literally means ''water from the plant/tree''.

Medziphema, an agrarian town a little off the highway, was our halt en route to Kohima. The Meyase’s, our hosts in Nagaland owned a beautiful estate in the town. Ketho was the youngest of their four. We were welcomed with milky, light-flavoured tea, and biscuits, besides a perfect seat to relish the warmth of burning firewood. This turned out to be what I would describe as a “perfect Naga morning” during the course of our expedition.

Milky, lite flavoured tea, biscuits and the fire - a perfect Naga winter morning!

Lunch followed; a curry with fresh mushrooms, unskinned chicken cooked in hot stock, smoked pork with beans, steamed vegetables, and red rice. That was just the beginning of Naga hospitality, the extravagant food served wherever, and whomever we visited. Nagas are also maestros of preserving food and their pickles are pungent but addictive. 

The capital Kohima on a misty morning, waking up to the eagerly awaited sun rays.

Faculty quarters of the Science college, Jotsoma, Kohima.

The Christmas flowers on the top right of the image is a rich ingredient to the tone of this beautiful hill station.

A large chunk of Naga population inhabits parts of Manipur, Assam and present day Myanmar, an outcome of the national government’s insensitive boundary demarcations. I could feel their resentment against the state on many instances. Prior to befriending a handful of Nagas and others from the northeast, all I had heard about that part of the country were the Naga militants and the ULFA. 

However, the ground realities are poles apart from their picture painted before mainland India. It narrates the story of a world war, oppression by the state, and strong Naga nationalist sentiment. Their 21^st century transformation, nonetheless, from a tribal economy less than 100 years ago to some of the most civilized people in the country today, is astounding. 

"Naga's are not Indias; their territory is not a part of the Indian Union. We shall uphold and defend this unique truth at all costs and always"- Khrisanisa Seyie,
First President, Federal Government of Nagaland.
(12th July 1956 - 18th February 1959)

Khonoma Village

The Meyase’s belonged to the Angami tribe and were natives of Khonoma, India’s first green village. Vegetated hills hide Khonoma from the rest of world, a natural barrier against enemy threats in the days of tribal confrontations.

The hamlet’s dwellings with sloping roofs, smoke puffing out of their chimneys, narrow cobble stone tracks crisscrossing the streets, delightful Christmas flowers blooming ubiquitously and the village church on top of a hill was reminiscent of an Italian countryside portrayed in several travelogues. A sizeable mountain slope terraced with shades of green, yellow, and brown provided their subsistence. As in Khonoma, terrace cultivation together with slash and burn agriculture are the most common agricultural practices in Nagaland.

Terrace cultivation at Khonoma village.

Dzulekie stream flowing down from the waterfall.

Dzulekie, known for its cave waterfalls, needs sturdy feet for exploration. The area surrounded by sub-tropical forests has a stream that flows from a sleek and narrow gorge, seeping underground at some spots. Estimating strides over slippery rocks along the stream, I misjudged a mossy boulder and there I was skidding down, one hand grabbing my camera. Yet, value for the spectacle at the end of the stream where it joins another cascade.    

One of the waterfalls at Dzulekie.

A closer view of a waterfall at Dzulekie shot using long exposure.

Winter skyline

Dzukou valley was worth the two-hour trek, the first half hour of which left me gasping, owing to the angle of ascend and gelid weather. The valley is an enchanting green folded landscape at 2438 metres above sea level, situated at the border of Manipur and Nagaland. 

First glimpse of  the Western Dzukou.

A day in Paradise.

Western Dzukou is visited in winter while the Southern Dzukou is preferred during summer when the valley would be covered with seasonal flowers.

The frozen stream at Dzuko Valley

Dzukou derives it's name from the Angami/Mao word which means 'cold water'.
Interestingly, there are age-old footprints of wild elephants in the valley, and the animals are not to be seen any longer.

Kohima, the capital.

A typical Naga kitchen durings winters.
This was one noticeable common thing in all the houses I visited. Water being heated using firewood throughout the day, different herbal roots (some close to the spring onion family) hanging above the fire along with dried pork fat.

Fighting the winter.
In an attempt to keep himself warm, the shopkeeper is trying to get the coal burning by swinging the 'chula'.

Kohima's streets turn into vegetable and fish markets as the day progresses and edges closer to sunset. They also commonly sell a kind of fresh water clam. 

A moonlit Kohima town shot from Jotsoma Village.

Where bravery sleeps.
The World War II Cemetery at Kohima is dedicated to 10000 Allied soldiers who lost their lives during the Japanese invasion. The Battle of Kohima was fought between the Japanese and British and lasted for nearly three months between April and June 1944. The site used to be a tennis court of the Deputy Commissioner and one of the fiercest battles was fought here. Towards the left of the cross in the image is a cherry tree which was used as a Sniper's post and marks the limit of the Japanese advance into India.

The final shot from Nagaland; sunset as seen from Dimapur railway station. 

Leaving the land of these “survivors” (as Ketho refers to his people) would not have been a choice if I had an option. Attendance is a high priority issue in academic life. Ten days were too less a time to explore this alluring northeastern state and returning is inevitable.  

The Nagas are by far the most hospitable people I have come across in life - a God fearing, hard working populace living rooted to their traditions.

So long.