1. BY THE RIVER DIBANG

Jambin woke up with a jump from the deep slumber induced by a full, ripe jackfruit. He was in his favourite shady haunt by the banks of the Dibang River. This was where the river after cutting valleys and gorges had opened up into the plains. There were big boulders lying against each other forming reasonably spacious enclaves where someone could rest without being detected from far off. The fear of wild animals like leopards, bears and elephants however, kept people from the nearby villages away from this place. But Jambin was different.

Jambin, standing at 6 feet 2 inches, with girth like a mango tree was unique physically and mentally among the Idu Mishmi people of the area. God had given him immense strength but uncompensated that by minimal intelligence. He was a shy and innocent youth who just did simple things that made him happy. The Gaonbura (village head) of the Dambuk village where he lived with his parents used to call him Dangor, meaning the big one.

Dambuk and Pamuk were the two big villages among a cluster of fifty odd hamlets that constituted the Kingdom of Bhismak Nagar in the foothills of the eastern Himalayas some 5,000 years ago. The Idu Mishmi people ruled by King Bhismak were fierce hunters and warriors yet a peace-loving stock. Many years ago these people had migrated from Tibbat (Tibet) in search of greener pastures and settled down in this lower catchment area of the Dibang River. The soil here was fertile with lots of produce from the dense forests around. The hill tribes gradually got accustomed to farming lands besides their age-old survival skills of hunting. The Dibang River meandered in channels before emptying into the mighty Brahmaputra River which sustained on its either banks the large empire of Pragjyotishpur.

Jambin had heard many stories about the mystical lands that lay beyond Dibang and which opened further west into the lands of Aryavarta. In fact, his mother was from Aryavarta and her lineage was the reason behind his physical shape and prowess. His father, Arbun, was a Mishmi who had once gone to the lands beyond Brahmaputra for trading of honey and animal skins where he had met this Dasi (slave girl) of a minnow satrap. They fell in love and eloped back to Bhishmak Nagar. Initial resistances were soon resolved and Arbun settled down happily with his bride Konkaboti, and then they were blessed with the hale and hearty Jambin.

Jambin yawned loudly. There was nobody to hear him. He sat up, checked on his dah lying beside him and tied the langot (loin cloth) tight around his waist. He looked at the river, the big boulders against one of which he rested, the dark green forests, the life around; everything that existed for so many years.

‘Created by our Gods Nani-Intaya and Masello-Zino, everything since the beginning of time has remained the same and will remain the same for many years to come. I am just a traveller in their creation and the passage of time,’ he muttered to himself, philosophically.

There was a spot on the far bank of the river where a tiny bifurcation had formed a pool of water. It was like a slender little finger which had ended in a crystal clear, nail-shaped placid puddle. The water here remained waist deep during most of the times of the year. Jambin would innocuously spy upon this pool as every afternoon it would be frequented by the Princess Rukmini, daughter of King Bhismak, and her group of courtesans. They would come there every day and indulge in various jocund antics arousing typical youthful curiosity in the mind of a naïve Jambin. Rukmini was an epitome of beauty whose fame spread to distant lands. But it was her closest companion, Sujaya who had caught the attention of Jambin.

Jambin raised himself up on his elbow and secured his vantage point for a better view. But there was something different in the air that day. His instincts were cautioning him of a presence of something or somebody around him. He could not pinpoint it exactly but the feeling was similar to the day when a big leopard was stalking him silently from the nearby bushes. Jambin had a sharp eye and little susurrations around him had made him wary about the creature. It was his reflex that had made him point his dah at the savage beast as it had leaped at him. The dagger had pierced the big cat’s chest and yet it had struggled with Jambin clawing him ferociously before giving in. There was a great feast in his village that day with the leopard meat and Jambin was happy to present the skin to Sujaya’s father, the chieftain of Pamuk village. Sadly, nothing much had progressed after that except that Sujaya had started taking note of him whenever they crossed each other’s path.

The feeling of being observed persisted. Jambin sat up and looked around. And there the man was. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere and stood at an arm’s length from him. Jambin looked intently at him. He had a dark complexion, not in the classical way but his body had a bluish tinge of the full moon sky. Though of medium height, he seemed to tower over everything in the surrounding. He had a serene smile on his face that was complemented by big, compassionate eyes. Jambin had never seen such big, blue and beautiful eyes. The eyes rippled with vibrant energy like the blue waters of the Dibang as it spread into the valley. The man held a flute in one of his hands and twirled a peacock feather in the other. There was nothing aggressive about him. There was an aura of goodness in the air. Butterflies had started fluttering around trees, tiny colourful birds crooned and a mild pleasant wind blew carrying a sweet fragrance. He just stared smilingly at Jambin which made him feel that the man knew what Jambin was up to. This embarrassed him a bit.

Jambin was sure the man would not be conversant in their Mishmi dialect so he tried Prakrit which was prevalent in Aryavarta as well as Pragjyotish. The tribal people on the farther banks of Brahmaputra were generally colloquial in Prakrit.

He asked him cautiously, ‘Hey, who are you and what brings you here?’

The man jumped on to the boulder behind which Jambin was perched and replied, ‘I am a wanderer. I was roaming the forests when I saw you lying here and got curious.’

Jambin was worried now for the man could easily be spotted by the princess and her companions from his present position. He shrieked at the man muffling his voice as much as possible, ‘Hey, what are you doing? Nobody dares to look at the princess like that. You will land up in trouble. Come down!’