Laitumkhrah Evenings

An evening in “my” Shillong would be typically described as the easiest way to watch time fly. Especially if, like me, you are a fan of strolls through the centre of town.

These walks are just a way of meeting up with people, and when you start off alone, by the time you’ve taken a couple of rounds, there’ll be a couple of friends with you as you decide where to have that first cup of tea. Now of course, with the mobile age dawning (?) upon us, this form of socializing is endangered, but for the adventurous (??), you can go ahead and step out of the gate without making a single call or sending a single text message.

Many a conversation have risen in the midst of these walks, some forgotten and some memorable, interrupted by stops at the cigarette shop. It would be safe to say that by five it’s all dark, and as Laitumkhrah buzzes with evening shoppers, it’s time for the guys to start planning.

A pissed off Debu, signals his rage at not getting a puff of the last ciggy rather constructively by buying a packet, and distributing a stick each to everyone. And as everyone tries to keep a straight face for a while, it is but a matter of a few minutes before he lets out his trademark wail and everybody bursts into laughter. This was the norm, and those were the days when we never had enough money for cigarettes.

An evening in Laitumkhrah is a rather unique experience in itself, as the main road looks refreshingly cosmopolitan compared to other parts in the city. It is a correct representation of the mood of the city, where nothing is perfect, yet things move on. The hotspots are the various cyber-cafes and pool joints on the main street. Then the various restaurants offering what is unofficially the most common snack in Shillong- puri sabji, line up the main road while the inhabitants of various hostels around go for their evening walks keeping in mind their curfews.

After a few rounds, it’s Ribok for everyone. Tarkari does not appreciate the samosa, as he peers into it after a couple of surgical dissections. He then decides that the sugar in his tea is inadequate. Sometimes it’s the puri that horrifies him, and this time everyone agrees. They have served us a bowl of oil rather than a puri.

We still eat it though.

When I get back home the first thing I check is what movie they have to offer on the local movie channel. There are certain times though when I get home later than usual, and then the first thing I check is whether that last minute rum-gobble did not condemn me to an evening of sermons from my very concerned mother.I shouldn't smile too much, at the same time I shouldn't be too quiet.

She's too clever for me though.