If you've to travel by road from the state capital of Assam, Guwahati, in its norther part to the southern part of the same state, where my hometown figures, you've to pass several hours in transist in a whole different state altogether; Meghalaya. And though Assam and Meghalaya're neighbours, Assam being the only fellow Indian state touching its borders, the topography couldn't be more different. There's a marked departure from the plain and then semi-plain areas of Assam to the more hilly and colder areas of Meghalaya and then again you feel the surrounding landscape change as you again leave Meghalaya behind and enter southern Assam.

By now, I'm already half asleep again, the pills I took for my travel sickness (clarification: yours truely *had* road travel sickness as a child and continues the medication only as a habit, okay, only as a precaution :|) before the journey has strong effects, aided along by the soothing music that is the whole 'The Suburbs' album by Arcade Fire and the rolling 'unspoilt natural beauty' outside my plastic window.


                                                      Umiam Lake, photo taken from here

The Guwahati-Shillong route is one of the most beautiful routes ever. The sheer pureness and rawness of the countryside on view is a good introduction to Northeastern wilderness on offer in the rest of the region. The good roads help too.

The bus takes a particularly Physical-Laws-breaking turn and my wakefullness returns again. And this time, it is the famed Umiam Lake, also known as the Barapani Lake, outside. Now, everyone who knows will tell you how the lake is the perfect welcome to Shillong and how it is truely a sight to behold, but you don't really get it till you experience it for yourself. Imagine a wide expanse of silvery, or emerald depending upon the time you visit it, water surrounded by forests of pine and fir on all sides, revealing itself as the mist of clouds unveils its layers. And as you continue staring at the scene, you suddenly notice that you're crossing the dam and there's a 1000 meters (probably) deep gauge a few inches from the wheels of the bus and all your mind registers is the untamedness of everything.


The pleasantness of the drive continues as you cross that charmer of a town; Shillong, as you travel through the state, the hill ranges named after the different tribes, its million waterfalls, churches, graveyards, quaint little village-towns. The wise one'd stop his descriptions now and put a flowery end here. But since we've screwed wisdom long back with a burning sickle, we'd rather go on.


                                             Somewhere between Shillong and Silchar

Now I'm passing through a jungle and the leaves on the trees shading the road're hanging down with the weight of the dust. And you ask how so? Well, whether it was some decades or some months back that the forementioned road was last a hard solid road , it can't really be said. There're holes bigger than the whole of the bus throughout the road and at times, the road positively disappears. This state of the road starts appearing sometime after you cross the Jaintia Hills(hence, the last touristy tourist spot in the state) and continues deep into Assam. The road may become a road again at times, but halt your optimism, comrade, that is the rainforest version of a mirage.

If you reach your destination at a humane hour after facing the numerous jams (yes, on a highway) and the non-existent road, then congratulations and celebrations! You're a survivor! When the world ends and the brave ascent to Valhalla, there'd a whole contingent of people who had travelled Shillong to Silchar (yes, that's the hometown) atleast once in their lifetimes. And so, the moral of the story in 2 words for the naive, if ever the wind brings you this way: AIR TRAVEL.