"Are all Bihu songs about romantic love?"
Junak drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, matching the beat of the song playing through the speakers. It was an old Bihu song; one of those childhood songs, seemingly from a different life, that you forgot existed but when faced with them again, you recognise immediately. "There are songs that talk about other things, but mostly, yeah. They are about girls and guys flirting with each other."
Niribili let out a sigh from where she was lounging on the backseat, her feet dangling out of the open window and head propped up on her backpack. She held a book open in her hands, atop her stomach. "We're gonna change that."
"We're gonna change that," Junak repeated as a familiar surge of excitement flooded his chest. It had been a while since he felt this way about any of his projects.
"Are we sure we won't get into trouble?" Banhi asked. She had called shotgun quicker than the other girl and now sat with her head leaning against the window, her gaze outside and hair fluttering behind her in the wind. A camera sat on the dashboard, recording the plain grey road rolling in to meet them. A bus or some SUV occasionally swooshed past them.
"We won't be telling everyone the plan," Junak said, glad to be repeating it to himself. "We just need a few dancers, couple of guys for the music, and that's it."
"News travels fast in the village," Niribili broke in. "The people will find out sooner or later."
Junak had considered it. Of course. In the week that it took his friends to arrive from California, he had spent every waking hour perfecting the plan. Theirs was a culture rooted in cishet patriarchal values. So, what they were planning - placing queer women at the forefront of the narrative - was outright dangerous. But that was exactly why it was so good. "My grandparents have a high social standing in the village," he said. "No one's gonna do anything to us."
"What about your grandparents?" Banhi asked. With a hand, she was absently playing with her earring. "Are they okay with their grandson being pansexual?"
"They are queer-friendly," he answered. "I wouldn't have brought you here if there was any danger." He glanced at both his friends, before turning back to the road. On either side were acres upon acres of golden fields, with hills in the far distance. The sky was a bright shade of blue, free of clouds. "My aunt is married to a woman."
"Really?" both girls cried at the same time.
Junak nodded. Though he did not know much about his family affairs, he did indeed have an aunt living in New Zealand who was married to a woman and the couple had cordial relations with his grandparents. As far as he knew. He hoped he wasn't wrong, hoped that their acceptance had more to do with love than the fact that his aunt was a highly paid neurosurgeon in a foreign country.
"That's really cool," Banhi hummed. She picked up the camera, changed some of the settings, and then put it to her eyes. Behind them, Niribili returned to her book.
Junak settled into his seat and studied the road ahead, seemingly unending.
It had been years since his last visit. He only had vague memories of the village, like glimpses from a movie watched long ago. He was around six years old when these visits stopped, and the only times he got to meet his grandparents were when the elderly coupled visited them in the city.
Junak sighed, ignoring the hollow nervousness growing in his chest the closer he got to their destination. Though his grandfather sounded excited over the phone, he wondered how he would respond when Junak actually stands in front of him. They were more strangers than family. Would everything go okay, or would it be awkward? Or worse, would it pull out the skeletons from the closet that he did not have the strength to face?
He let out another deep sigh. Worrying about it was not going to help. He had decided to take the leap of faith, so now here he was – ready to jump.
According to the GPS, Nonrong village was another twenty minutes away. They had been on this trip for over four hours now. He didn't mind it, and he knew neither did his friends. They were suckers for road trips and the weather was really good too – though it was winter, the sun was mildly warm, bathing the world in a sort of pleasant, mushy hug.
"Ooooh, what's going on there?" Banhi asked. She was peering out of the windshield, gesturing at a large group of people gathered on a field. There were banners and makeshift tents erected amongst the crowd, and someone was saying something over the loudspeakers.
Niribili looked up from her book. "It's a buffalo fight."
"A what?"
Junak grinned at Banhi's reaction - pure excitement and curiosity on her face.
"People bring their buffalos for a fight," Niribili said. "I can't explain it simpler than this."
Banhi turned to Junak. He knew what she was going to say before she said it – "Can we stop and watch? Please, please, please?"
Junak laughed, nodding. He pulled the car off the highway and parked it on the side. Banhi was out in a jiffy, the camera ready in her hands, while Niribili and Junak were a lot more lethargic.
Fresh, chilly breezes greeted Junak as he got out of the car and locked it after him. Pulling his cardigan closer to himself and adjusting the shades over his eyes, he followed the girls towards the crowd.
It was as foreign to him as it was to Banhi. He had heard of these fights, yes, but never seen one first-hand. In the large field, over a hundred people were gathered in festivities. There was a circle demarcated for the fight, but outside it was makeshift tents selling sweets, balloons, toys, and other cheap souvenirs.
Banhi made a beeline for the fight circle and both her friends followed.
Someone was commenting on the fight, the way one would for any other sport, but the speaker was of poor quality so Junak could barely make out any of the words.
"They're huge!" Banhi gasped. Joining the circle of onlookers, they could see two large buffalos at the centre of the field, their heads locked in a fierce battle of strength. A few men stood watch with sticks in hand. People were cheering, shouting or chatting amongst themselves.
"Won't they get hurt?" Bahni asked, adjusting the camera angle.
Junak frowned, wondering what would be an appropriate response, when someone said, "No, there's never any serious injuries," in English.
Junak turned to his right to find a young man, probably the same age as him, standing next to him. He was taller than Junak by a few inches and had a striking mess of curly black hair. On his shoulders, a skinny little boy was sitting, very casually, like it was something the two did all the time.
"It's tradition," the stranger added when he noticed three pairs of eyes on him. "And it's all in good faith. There's a vet on standby and none of the animals are mistreated."
Satisfied with the answer, Banhi went back to watching and recording the fight. Niribili, on the other hand, lingered and Junak could tell she had questions. After a while, however, she muttered, "I'll go get something to eat" and walked away.
Junak's gaze stayed on the stranger. He was wearing a simple full-sleeved button-up shirt, sleeves half rolled to the elbows and the topmost buttons were open to reveal smooth, dark skin. His blue jeans were faded, more with use than as a fashion statement, and he was wearing slippers with that outfit.
When Junak's eyes returned to the stranger's face, he was looking at Junak with a raised brow. Shit. "Where are you from?"
Junak was momentarily unsure how to answer. "Guwahati."
The boy nodded, unimpressed. "Where are you headed?" he asked, switching to Assamese.
"Nonrong."
"Oh, you're going to our village!" the kid on the stranger's shoulders shouted excitedly.
Junak's eyes widened. "You guys are from Nonrong?"
"Yesss!" the kid cried. "I'm Lohor."
"Hello! I'm Junak." Out of habit, he stretched out his hand. It was only when the young man rolled his eyes that he realised it wasn't an appropriate greeting around these parts.
The kid laughed, amused. He took Junak's hand and shook it vehemently.
"Who's um... who are your parents?" the older guy asked.
Junak shifted on his feet, wondering how impolite it would be to not reply. Finally, he said, "Do you know Nildeep Baruah?" A nod. "He's my grandfather."
"Ah." The stranger nodded, then looked away, at the fight. "Well, it's past four in the afternoon," he said after a brief pause. "So be careful on your way."
"Oh no!!" the kid gasped.
Junak frowned. "Huh?"
"We must... we must warn him!" The kid was frantically patting at the older guy's head, calling for his attention.
The boy glanced at him, very briefly, then said to the kid, "He won't believe us anyway, Lohor."
Junak felt a chill prick the back of his neck. "Wait... w-what's going on?"
"Nothing," the stranger replied. "Never mind."
"N-No, what is it? Tell me."
The adult and the kid on his shoulder exchanged a glance. "Tell him," the kid whispered.
"It's the bridge," the young man said, his voice low.
Though Junak had no idea what was going on, goosebumps erupted along his arms. "W-what bridge?"
"It's haunted by Old Man Banoi," the kid cried, his eyes wide. As he said the words, he reached out to hold onto the older man tighter. "He doesn't like outsiders."
Junak chuckled, but then he saw the stranger's expression, serious and ominous, and his mirth faltered. "That's a... it's a joke, right?"
The stranger looked at Junak from the corner of his eyes. "It's true. He was killed by an urbanite like you, many years back. He roams the bridge... looking for revenge."
Junak wanted to laugh or scoff or wave his hand in dismissal but he felt a shiver run up his spine. All of a sudden, it felt like someone was standing behind him, watching him. Waiting for him.
"Tell me," the stranger added in a low voice, "did you see any fallen bamboo trees on the way?"
"I..." Junak's throat was dry. "I - I don't know. I d-don't remember."
The two boys in front of him exchanged a look, and the older one muttered, "This is bad."
Junak was close to crying out for help. "What do you mean?"
They did not answer, their eyes focused in the distance, at something behind Junak that he did not dare look at.
"I-Is there another way to reach the village? W-Without crossing the haunted bridge?"
"Yes, but..."
Junak was getting more and more anxious by the second. He wasn't sure when exactly but he had broken in a cold sweat. "But what?"
"It's a few minutes' trek, by foot."
"That's okay," Junak sputtered. "J-Just tell me the way."
***
"You've got to be kidding me!" Niribili cried as she stood facing a stream, shallow but almost ten metres in width.
Junak bent down to take off his shoes. The weight of his backpack nearly toppled him over in the process. "It's just a ten-minute walk."
Banhi was already in the water, barefoot, her jeans folded up to her knees. The camera was dangling off her neck and a guitar case was strapped to her back. "Trekking is fun."
"Not when I'm on my goddamn period," Niribili shouted. "Why did we even leave the car?" She looked back miserably at the car parked at the edge of the road.
"The road up ahead isn't well-constructed yet," Junak lied.
"What about our luggage?"
"Koka will send someone to come collect them."
"If someone," Niribili hissed, taking off her shoe and making a grand gesture like she was about to throw it at Junak, "steals my equipment, I will skin you alive."
"Geez!"
"Niri, come on." Banhi walked up to her girlfriend and took her hands in hers. "Let's just enjoy this, babe." She pressed a quick kiss to Niribili's cheek. "Yeah?"
Niribili still had a sour expression on her face but she nodded and let the other girl lead her through the stream.
The trek took longer than ten minutes. Though the weather was nice, having to walk through streams, fields and low hill tracks with their equipment strapped on their backs was exhausting. When they reached their destination, sweating and heaving, Junak wondered if they should've taken their chances with the ghost.
"JUNAK!" His grandfather was an old man, well into his eighties, but he looked very healthy and was full of life. Dressed in a light-coloured kurta and dhoti, he was waiting at the gate, squinting at the sun. "What took you so long? And where's the car?"
"Oh koka!" Junak threw his arms around the man, taking the opportunity to whisper "We wanted to trek" in his ear.
"Oof, you youngsters!" The man smiled as they pulled away, and then turned to the two young women. He exchanged quick greetings with them and gestured them inside. "Come, come, let's go in. You look completely spent."
Nildeep Baruah's house was a large bungalow with a gigantic lawn spanning in front of it. As they made their way towards the building, two men rushed over to help carry their bags.
"There's some luggage in the car, koka," Junak said. "Will you send someone to go fetch them?"
His grandfather nodded. "Why did you leave the car anyway? You have so many days ahead of you to go trekking."
"I know."
"Your grandmother and I have been waiting for you."
A pang of guilt hit Junak like a hammer blow. He had been so focused on the ghost, he completely forgot that they were being expected. "I'm so sorry. It's just..." He lowered his voice. His friends were at the porch now, out of earshot. "I heard about Old Man Banoi."
His grandfather frowned. "Who?"
"The ghost on the bridge, koka."
"What ghost on the bridge?"
And then it hit him.
He looked down at his muddied feet, pants rolled to his knees, and the shoes dangling from his hands. He was sweating in his cardigan, and his shoulders hurt from carrying his backpack.
He felt shame, raw and overpowering. There was also guilt, for making his friends walk all the way. But above all, he felt angry.
That jerk!
~~~~
A/n
Hahhaa welcome to this new journey. I hope y'all will enjoy it. It's something I've never done before (writing about my homeland is weirdly daunting) so please spam me with comments so that I know we're on the same page (lol).
And while you're at it, do go check out the playlist : handpicked songs in like 5 different languages (so far) and I'm quite proud of it lol. The link is on my bio.