Reading about Huen Tsang in history lessons in school, I could not form any definite idea about a scholarly monk or a Chinese traveller. The only Chinese I had seen in my childhood was the one who used to go from house to house, sharpening kitchen knives in the Gauhati of the 1940s. After World War II, he was joined by another of his countrymen, who used to tramp the roads of small town Gauhati selling pictures of Chinese heroes. By no stretch of the imagination could I equate either with Huen Tsang. But I had an abiding interest in history, and studied the subject as deeply as I could. This brought me laurels in the shape of highest marks in the University in history in both Matriculation and the Intermediate Arts examinations. The picture of Huen Tsang became clearer as time passed, and my knowledge increased. On a fleeting visit to Nalanda near Patna, I remembered three scholars. First, Silabhadra, who administered the University much better than many of our modern Vice-Chancellers. Then, Aryabhatta, who on March 21, 499 AD was reputed to have gone up on the platform, to the chants of priests, and penned the first word of his immortal thesis Aryabhatiya, which declared that the earth is round and that it rotates on its own axis. And above all others, Huen Tsang, who taught at the University for years during his seventeen year odyssey to India in search of enlightenment. He came to Kumar Bhaskar Barman’s Pragjyotispur also.

Later, during my sojourn in China, I visited Xian, which had served as the capital of that country for over 1000 years. It was then known as Changan. I became aware about the might and glory of the Tang dynasty when I saw Emperor Quin Shihuang’s gigantic pits containing the world famous clay soldiers and brass weapons. I also enjoyed a dance drama featuring Tang period costumes and quaint musical instruments. It was during the rule of the Tang dynasty that Huen Tsang came to India, enjoying royal patronage. I also saw the footprints of the Buddha which Huen Tsang had taken from India to Changan and installed in the 64 metre tall Big Wild Goose Pagoda at the southern end of the Monastery of Great Benevolence, where the great saint lived after his return to China in 645 AD till his death in 664 AD. I had walked up to the topmost step, which most people avoid.

A year after my China visit, I came across the now famous book titled Ten Thousand Miles Without A Cloud (Harper Collins, 2003, London) by Sun Shuyan, an Oxford University researcher, who had travelled on the Silk Road in the twentieth century. She traversed a major portion of the route which Huen Tsang had taken. But she could not go to Bumyang in Afghanistan, and was curtly denied a visa to Uzbekistan, although she tried three times. When I read Sun’s moving account of her long travels in her book, I was inspired once again. I decided to visit Uzbekistan in central Asia, which is at the middle point of the Silk Road, where all the routes converged.

The Uzbekistan airlines flight from Delhi to Tashkent– covering a distance of 1579 ground kilometres– took three hours, reaching Tashkent in the late afternoon. Next morning, the flight to Urgench took one hour and 40 minutes. Beth Tashkent and Urgench airports are ultra modern and have been recently rebuilt to international specifications.

From the modern city of Urgench (population 200,000) to the ancient city of Khiva (population 150,000) there is a smoothly paved four lane highway with footpaths on both sides of the 40 kilometre stretch. Scores of halogen lamps brighten up the carriageway, although the traffic is not much. Overhead powerlines suspended from electric posts on each side enable public trolley buses to run at high speed. The road is straight like the American highways.

Urgench city is very neat and clean. It is the capital of the Urgench Region. Uzbekistan has 12 Regions, and one Autonomous Republic of Karakalpakistan. The Davlot (government) offices, the apartment blocks, the colleges and institutions, the hospitals and utilities are housed in large modern buildings. Urgench has a big Tourism Training College.

Khiva, however, is a small and old city. Its roads are narrow and uneven. I found lots of people on the roads. Children played on the roadsides and open areas. In the walled city of Khiva, called Inchan Kala, vehicular traffic is not allowed except on the roads in which the hotels are situated. The pathways are smoothly paved with pebbles or tiles. Two quiet nights in the American style hotel, with plenty of Europeans for company, soothed my nerves and rested my limbs.

Then the 550 kilometre car drive from Khiva to Bukhara (population 250,000) began. The highway from Khiva to Urgench and about 10 kilometres beyond Urgench is excellent. After that, the road is narrow. The halogen lamps and the powerlines are not there. But the carriageway is nicely paved. The drive is comfortable. Traffic is very low. I remembered the drive from Dibrugarh to Shillong in the late nineteen sixties, when I was Deputy Commissioner of the erstwhile united Lakhimpur district, with Dibrugarh as the headquarters. After about 50 kilometres, the road is narrower. The road bed showed fissures and even potholes in some places. The driver told me that the long drive through the Kizil Kum desert has begun. Kizil Kum is a vast expanse of land, like a sea, which extends to the horizon on both sides. I see nothing except sand and sand dunes. Small stretches near the road have some thorny vegetation interspersed by sand and more sand. This area falls within the Autonomous Republic of Karakalpakistan, with its capital at Nukus. It is the poorest and the most backward area in Uzbekistan. In fact, the younger generation have no employment opportunities. They are now migrating to Tashkent and even to Russia in search of a better life.

As I neared Bukhara and left the territory of Karakalpakistan, the highway became better again. After some time, I entered the new and modern part of Bukhara with tall buildings, broad roads and flower gardens similar to Urgench. In front of our hotel, a ring road enclosed a public area for outdoor dining on the banks of a large and clean tank. Half a kilometre beyond the hotel is the old city, which was one of the most important centres of silk trade. The roses here are big, red and white colours predominate. The two nights at the American style hotel near Bukhara’s old city were really comfortable.

Then the drive to the very heart of the desert began. On both sides of the road are vast expanses of land upto the horizon filled with sand. The only relief is that there is some low vegetation and even some trees in the oases at a distance. In the desert, the sun always seems overhead. The heat is oppressive. After about two hundred kilometres, I reached a town called Navoi, near which the hills began. The height of the hills vary from 1100 metres to 2179 metres above mean sea level. On one of the hillocks, I saw ancient petroglyphs on stalactites. In a nearby small village, called Sputnik, Alexander the Great had built a fortress on a hillock while he was on a campaign in this area. He conquered Sogdiana and Bactria in 327 BC and married Roxono, daughter of a Bachtrian chieftain. Next to the fortress there is a natural spring called chashnia and a pond with plenty of fish in the sparkling waters. A mosque has also been built recently. Pilgrims come here to collect the holy water. I had lunch at a family restaurant. Then, I proceeded another 100 kilometres through an important town in the hills called Nurato, to the small village of Yangigazan. From this village, there is no road. A small desert path took me 12 kilometres to a yurts or camp with small tents. Probably Chengis Khan and Timur had used the same type of tents in the desert. The modern tents, however, have felt for insulation from heat, as well as snow, and aluminium curved beams for support. The tents of antiquity were different. There were two other groups, one Spanish and the other French. The Russian and Uzbek cooks served very nice food to all of us. They cooked rice and fried fish specially for me. An Akin or local musician sang beside the campfire. He sang Kazakh songs. I could not believe at first that the night could be so cold after such a hot day. We had to use quilts and blankets. I saw a clear blue sky with myriad stars after a long time.

Next day, I travelled about 100 kilometres back to Nurato. From there, the 185 kilometre drive to Samarkand (population 360,000), Amir Taimur’s capital, took about three hours. This is the same Taimur who had sacked Delhi in 1398 AD and killed more than 100,000 people. Later, his grandson Babur conquered Delhi and became the first Mughal emperor. The road is reasonably good but passes through desert and hills. When I was only halfway to Samarkand, the desert took on a different appearance. Some vegetation, interspersed by a few trees, appeared. In this area, small new towns and villages are under construction on both sides of the road. Nearer Samarkand, I saw cotton and maize plantations. The road in this area is broader.

Within Samarkand there are four lane avenues flanked by rows of trees. The newer parts of the city have been thoroughly repaired and rebuilt in recent times. Hotels are big. One rises fourteen storeys high. Government offices have excellent buildings. Flowers, particularly roses, on the sides of roads and avenues are prolific.

While in Samarkand, a day excursion was organised to Shahrisabz or Shakhrisabz– which was Amir Taimur’s first capital. It is here that Taimur’s first son and two of his begums were buried. One third of the 90 kilometre drive each way to Shahrisabz passes through hills, where there is no vegetation. At one place, the peak is 1738 metres above the mean sea level. The same road goes another 600 kilometres to Termez, an important trading city on the border of Afghanistan, and on the edge of the Kara Kum desert. I could not travel to Termez due to time constraints. Huen Tsang had passed through this road on his way to India.

After spending three memorable nights in Samarkand, the 350 kilometre journey to Tashkent (population 3,000.000) began. For the first fifty kilometres, the four lane highway is broad. Thereafter, a concrete divider appears in place of the flower beds and the verge. After a few more kilometres, the road starts climbing the low hills of the Turkestan range. These hills are bare. The road passes through the plateaus. After the hills, irrigated land appears on both sides of the road with their crops of cotton, sunflower, maize and other cash crops. In places, big and enclosed orchards appear with heavily blooming apple, apricot and peach trees. I did not see any lemons, oranges or other citrus fruits. Men and women sell fruits and vegetables in plastic buckets and wooden boxes. As I neared Tashkent, I saw a stretch of about 2 kilometres, with small single storied houses segregated from the highway by tall walls to protect them from heavy winds and polluting dust. Regular markets and small neighbourhoods appeared after a few kilometres. Then, I reached the long bridge on the Sirodaya river. The bridge is now under repair. Police checking on the bridge took some time. The huge and ceremonial welcome gate made of granite and marble on the border of the Tashkent Vilayoti (Administrative Region) looked really grand. After a two night stay in Tashkent, which was so nice and enjoyable, I left for New Delhi by an Uzbekistan Airways flight.

My journey through the roads and my visits to mosques, minarets, madrassahs and ledxotics and, more specially to the bazoris and caravansarais, enabled me to contemplate the state of the numerous trading routes of the Silk Road. I could imagine the hazards and discomfort which Huen Tsang endured. I travelled by aeroplanes and automobiles and was reasonably comfortable. Huen Tsang travelled on foot and on camel or horse back. There were no roads. Only desert paths. He had to travel with a big retinue and carry food, water and trading wares. He naturally took a long time to cover the total distance of 10,000 miles or 16,000 kilometres. I travelled only about 2,500 kilometres within Uzbekistan. Huen Tsang had covered 100 principalities thirteen centuries ago, which now fall in the six modern countries of China, Kyrgystan, Uzbekistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India. There is absolutely no comparison. But my Uzbekistan visit awoke in me the feeling that Huen Tsang did a great service to mankind by his travels across countries and his transfer of knowledge from India to China. He was truly a globalised man of great vision. We need more followers of Huen Tsang to carry human civilisation forward.

(The writer was Chief Secretary, Assam, during 1990-95).

HN Das