My Ride from Lengpui (Aizawl) Airport to Aizawl City

15 December 2003, At Kolkata Dum Dum airport

It was a small plane — may be carrying 20–30 people. All mixed people with quite a few young Mizos — mostly girls. They are probably students going to their native places. All the young ones were in blue jeans — in Western mode. A few adult women were seen in their traditional Lengpui, and one or two wore skirts with an over coat. Tourists, I saw none but there could be one or two. Yes, now, I saw one foreigner.

As the plane took off and lifted up to an altitude, I could see below a large number of water bodies — tanks big and small — amidst the fields. For quite a while it was the same scenario. After half an hour of flying, I saw a winding big river, probably the Ganges, with its myriad channels spreading across the earth. After that sight, I saw hill slopes of moderate height.

Then came the magnificent ranges of hills — one after another. They are covered with rich and dense tree cover undulated surfaces, and with deep and long creeks running in between the hill ranges. Sometimes you see a river winding, through the creek.

I saw five to six of such hill ranges pass through before reaching the Lengpui airport.

When it landed at Lengpui airport after about three hours and fifteen minutes from Kolkata, we were told that the outside temperature would be 20 degrees celsius.

Waiting at the Lengpui airport

After the plane landed, people leisurely rose from their seats and leisurely unbuckled themselves. As one used to witness in other places, they were not in a hurry.

It is a small airport surrounded by blue hills. The sunlight was bright, the sky was clear blue, and the hills looked blue with greenish shades in between. There was a freshness and a mild aroma of vegetation in the air — one you would feel when you were in a place surrounded by thick vegetation. I collected my baggage and came out of the plane.

As the car didn’t arrive yet, I waited for about an hour and half at the airport. One or two can drivers approached me. When I told them that I was waiting for a car from the University they left me alone.

There was a small canteen near the place to which I went to make a telephone call to the University. The manager is a woman and of the waiters I could see there were one or two women. There I met a cab driver who said someone wanted to share the cab with me to Aizawl if I chose to come by his cab. He said it would come to Rs.250/- per person. I told him I need to wait for sometime as my cab from the University might be on its way.

I went back to the entrance of the airport. The cab driver came back and broke a conservation with me. He was a young man with a full face and a friendly and ready smile. There was not much hair on his unshaven face and you can almost count the number of hairs on his face. He spoke broken English and could also understand English. He asked me about my occupation. Then he asked whether I could speak Hindi. I told him I can’t.

‘You are a Professor, you must have known many languages,’ he said.

I laughed and told him that it was not expected of a professor. The conversation went on touching their life, occupation etc.

My cab from the University came, the driver was apologetic, and was giving some reason for the delay. He sounded sincere though I could not understand his explanation. In fact I didn’t mind at all my waiting at the airport. I enjoyed my time waiting there.

My drive to Aizawl city

The driver, a lankey middle aged mizo, was alert and quick in his driving. The road was mostly with a number of ‘U’ turns — with almost every turn a blind turn. Seated in the cab, as you go along, you swing to left and to right — invariably every two — three — minutes. The traffic is slightly heavy —as I could see a number of taxis pass by.

It was an hour journey — a 45 km ride to the city and rather a beautiful journey!

All along the road the vegetation was thick. It was predominantly of bamboo trees, teak, followed by deodar. There are other trees but these trees dominate. I saw interspersed with this vegetation, a variety of tall grass, a mass of reeds. They covered the vacant spaces and even from the air plane when it was hovering above the airport, I could see the reeds spreading/covering vast stretches of land down below.

As I was travelling in the cab, on one side I could see the magnificent valley with a 2000 to 3000 feet fall below — with big undulated hill surfaces. On these hill slopes, I could see here and there white curved lines. They must be roads leading to some villages or towns. I also saw a few small metal sheet roofed houses occasionally.

The sun rays from my right side lighted one part of the hills while the other part remained in the shade. It was a vast space — a mixed expanse of hills, vegetation, sky with white clouds, and sunlight where you feel extremely vulnerable, small and humble.

Compared to Kodaikanal Palani hill rage — I could see these hills are rich in tree cover and other vegetations, mostly tropical plants.

What struck me most, during the journey, were the houses — small wood cabins with walls made up of bamboo reeds and asbestos — precariously percked on the hill slopes with their entrances facing the road. They looked like tiny toys, skilfully made and colourfully painted, and pegged on the hill slopes.

There are very few plateaus, and most of the buildings are perched on the hill slopes. It was not an unusual to see a house with a gaping valley down below 1500 to 2000 feet. And people stay in these houses, children play around. On my way, I saw some houses even with pigpens situated adjacent to their main houses placed similarly on the slopes of the hills. If you go in and look out from the window, the valley-down below would be no less than 2000 feet deep!

Though most of the small houses were wooden structures at the beginning of my journey, as I approached Sairang, a small town on the way, the houses while looked the same, had concrete walls supporting them on the hill slopes.

The houses looked beautifully structured and functional. They are made up of bamboos, wooden polls, woooden floor, and big windows. All the houses invariably have a long or short balcony overlooking the valley. As the climate is moderately cool (Min. 10 degrees celsius — Max. 25 degrees celsius), if one maintains a stock of warm clothing one is comfortable in such houses.

I reached the Aizawl city.