He frantically threw back his quilt pushing away and trying to escape the creepy crawlies inching towards him. Snakes slithered just behind, threatening his sanity. His heart and thoughts raced as he struggled to differentiate between nightmare and reality. He groped around to anchor himself and orient his senses back to reality. “Rozy,” he nudged his wife up from her sleep, “did you hear that too? I think the vengeful serpent is here again!”
She soothed her husband, “Oh MK, it is probably just the chowkidaar getting ready to set up our morning pot of tea. Maharaj’s thoughts travelled back as he and his wife relished their tea on the verandah overlooking the lawn of Cinnatoliah tea estate. They watched nature unfold its treasure at the first ray of sunshine.
It was just a week ago when he had embarked in his white ambassador car to the ABITA office as his Burra Saab, Mr Chander Kapoor had entrusted him with an urgent piece of work. With all the windows of his car shut, to keep away the January winter chill of the post-dawn air, he merrily sped on whistling towards the town of North Lakhimpur. The glowing winter sun illuminated the leaves of the trees, painting a magical masterpiece. He marvelled at the beauty of nature which he would usually take no notice of on regular kaamjaari mornings, when thoughts about crop quality and optimum harvest conditions took precedence.
He opened the quarter glass of the ambassador window, to feel the crisp morning air on his face as he drove along the bumpy kutcha forest road. Out of the blue, he felt a loud, thunderous thud on his side of the door. He disregarded the noise, presuming that a pebble from the gravelly road must have hit the car. But soon, he realized that this assumption was far from the truth and his little world turned topsy-turvy. His eyes were focused on the road ahead but through his peripheral vision, he sensed some movement. And then realization sunk in that there was a snake on the windshield. Inside his car! MK had never been claustrophobic before but now he felt the panic rise suddenly in his chest.
Terror struck he watched the snake sliding away towards the dashboard and then vanished. He braked bringing the vehicle to a halt with a jolt and quickly got out of the car to seek help from a local villager. But he couldn’t get his point across as language proved a barrier. Nonetheless, he had managed to beckon someone and soon a mob had gathered around. The people from the village by the road thronged around the car, concerned about the situation. MK tried explaining to the crowd about the snake inside, gesturing with his arm on his elbow. The people were gaunt and serious. Someone from the crowd uttered nervously – “haanp…haanp?”
All MK could hear was an incredible din of Assamese chatter. “Main haaf nahi raha hu – I’m not panting,” he said. MK scrunched his eyebrows, staring at the crowd bewildered and confused, only to be met with their wide-eyed gape. The only way out now was to demand solutions instead of this crazy hovering anxiety. He slumped with his hands in his pockets as he looked around. At the far end of his vision, he saw a stack of lorry tyres – a beacon of hope in the foggy morning. He walked towards the garage and sought help. The helper in the garage tried scaring the snake out by banging the dashboard. However, despite all their best efforts, the snake could not be coaxed out.
He knew he had to make a decision. Lakhimpur was still a long way. So, with a heavy heart, he decided to return to the estate. He summoned the courage to drive the car with his co-passengers – a snake, and a local helper to keep an eye out for any movements of the snake. As they drove back to the garden, distressed by the engine’s heat, the snake slithered out of sight.
Upon arriving in the factory compound, MK and the helper quickly jumped out of the car to get the attention of the team of pluckers and factory technicians who were sharpening their pruning knives. They huddled around the car to assess the situation. One of the senior staff turned to MK and said, “Saab, hum log dekh lega,” as he requested MK to step aside. And sure enough, the slithering companion was taken care of. The snake was later identified to be a highly venomous jumping snake.
Whenever MK recalls those harrowing moments, he is overcome with an immense sense of gratitude for his miraculous survival. Fate had smiled on him that day. Despite having such a close encounter, he was safe.
Glossary:
ABITA : Assam Branch of Indian Tea Association
Chowkidaar : Night sentinel
Kaamjaari : Daily work supervision
Haanp : Saanp / snake (in Assamese)
Haaf: Panting (in hindi)
Main haaf nahi raha hu: I am not panting
Saab, hum log dekh lega: We will take care of it
It is beautifully done. I have heard the story several times, but whenever I listen to it, it amazes me. I love the pictures. Beautiful memories.
Ritu (Nutrinari)
I would leave the car there and never come near it again. Terrifying yet wonderful written, as always. :)
I wonder how Mr Mehta must have found the courage to travel all the way knowing there was a snake in the car. This must be the most terrifying experience of his life. Wonderful piece of writing Nandita 👍🏻big applause to you.
Nice piece again..incident narrated well..brought creeps ! Once the similar situation was faced by my husband n his colleague when they were travelling enroute club .. reptile came out of engine and started sliding on the bonnet.. After brake was applied it slid off on the road . Must have been a terrifying journey back by M.k. linguistic confusion mixing up saanp n haanp was amusing.
Nice blog supported by lovely pictures of M.K n Rozy.Such is life in wilderness n plantations.
Another interesting piece 👌👌