Nineteen sixty two. This was the year when the Chinese soldiers came down from across the border via Arunachal Pradesh, almost unhindered until international pressure brokered a ceasefire. Had it not been so, history might have written otherwise. They were near Bomdila, just 165 km from Tezpur, in the fertile Brahmaputra valley. This was also a definitive year, when the idealism of Hindi Chini Bhai Bhai got a beating. The ‘Himalayan blunder’ broke the spirit of Jawaharlal Nehru, and political commentators and biographers say that he never recovered from the blow. Defence Minister VK Krishna Menon, who propped up the idea that there was no need to defend the northern borders, also had to bite the dust.

Now, as the Indo-China border ‘situation’ again heats up, and charges and counter charges fly across the border at Arunachal Pradesh, with the Chinese objecting to Prime Minister’s visit prior to the recent election in the State and expressing unhappiness about the Dalai Lama’s visit to Tawang in November, there is certain sense of déjà vu for me. I remember the tension in our house, in Shillong, in the autumn of ’62. Indian soldiers were caught off-guard and they were ill-equipped to counter the attack. Meanwhile, Chinese soldiers were hovering around Bomdila. My grandmother was alone, though there were good neighbours near our ancestral house in Tezpur. Suddenly, we learnt that Tezpur was ordered to be evacuated. My father made a dash to the plains to fetch my grandmother. There was no bridge over the Brahmaputra then; in fact, the first one to the north bank in Amingaon areas was built only after this experience, as soldiers had to be ‘ferried’ to the north bank to tackle the Chinese .

By the time my father arrived in Tezpur by a ferry via Silghat (where there is the second bridge, Kaliabhomora, now), he encountered an eerie town. People had left in a hurry, not even bothering to lock the doors, the streets were empty; the treasury was deserted. We later heard that the coins and valuables were thrown in Padum Pukhuri (lotus pond) at the centre of the town, (and may be some made a lot of money out of it). Anyway, my father found that my grandmother had already left for the south bank, accompanied by neighbours. Much relieved, he again crossed over to the south bank, but was now wondering where in Nowgong was she. Eventually, she was traced in one of our aunt’s houses.

All these memories flooded my mind on my way to Tawang on a bitter winter day, sometime back. Famous for its Golden Pagoda, Tawang has only recently caught tourists’ attention, but for the people of the North East, Tawang is significant as a place where the Chinese had made home for a long time, preparing the 1962 war.

Skirting the river Jia-Bharali (which is called Kameng upstream), as we drove up, names like Bomdila, halfway to Tawang, beautiful Dirang Valley, Bumla Pass and the ever-windy Sela Pass at 14,000 ft, all brought those longlost memories of the Sino-Indian fracas. Our driver, a local Arunachali, was an expert at at this difficult terrain, and his favourite pastime seemed to be listening to Hindi songs, but at such heights, when he drove with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other changing cassettes at regular intervals, my love for Hindi songs took a backseat.

The Chinese still claim that Tawang belongs to China. Beijing, in any case, believes that around 90,000 square kilometres of Arunachal Pradesh is a part of south Tibet, and hence, it belongs to China. Tawang, by the way, was under Tibetan Government, even after Independence, till 1951, when the Indian army took over.

China’s crackdown on protesting Tibetans made the spiritual leader, Dalai Lama, leave the country in 1959. “He left Lhasa on March 17 with an entourage of 20 men, including six cabinet ministers,” reported BBC on March 31, 1959, describing how, after a difficult journey, mostly travelled by night , “he finally crossed the Indian border at the Khenzimana Pass, and is now resting at the Towang [Tawang] Monastery, 50 miles inside the Indian border.”

Tawang’s 400 years old Galden Namgyal Lhatse (celestial paradise) monastery, more popularly known as the Golden Pagoda, thus, holds an important place in the journey of the exiled Dalai Lama to India, as well as for the local Aruanachalis, mainly belonging to the Monpa tribe, a tribe of Mongoloid origin, who follow Tibetan Buddhism. The monastery belongs to the Galukpa sect of Mahayana Buddhism, of which the Dalai Lama is the supreme head (though the Chinese dispute it).

As visitors were almost nil in that chilly season, December end actually, the monk- in-charge could show us around with ample time in hand.

The monastery looks like a fort from afar, and can house more than 700 monks. There is an interesting anecdote around the name : in local parlance, it denotes ‘founded by the horse’ (Ta meaning ‘horse’, and Wang meaning ‘chosen’). As the story goes, following the wishes of the fifth Dalai Lama, Merak Lama, a monk, set out searching for a place in 1681, to construct a monastery. He did not know where he could find the place, and prayed for divine guidance. One day, after prayers in a cave, he found his horse standing quietly at a spot on a hill-top. Merak Lama took it as a divine sign, and selected the landmark where the Tawang monastery stands today. Local Monpa tribe helped him build the monastery; even today, they are responsible for looking after the pagoda. The sixth Dalai Lama was born here. The huge monastery is a complex of many buildings – dormitories, meeting hall, school for would-be lamas, community kitchen, monuments, etc., and, of course, Dukkang – the temple.

Inside the temple, there is a huge 30 ft gilded Buddha made of wood. Priceless tankhas (scroll-paintings) hang from the walls, while butter lamps spread a warm glow. Tibetan-style carpets with dragons keep the floor cosy and colourful. Our priest-guide informed that the whole structure was built by wood brought from Tibet, piece by piece, on horseback, and assembled here under strict supervision. He also showed us around the museum, which is attached to the main hall. The ancient manuscripts must be invaluable for researchers. These and the artifacts showcase the centuries-old Indo-Tibet Buddhist trail.

As the Asian giants are reportedly building up forces across the border due to recent diplomatic spats, I remember what our driver told us during our journey while whistling the tune of a Kishore Kumar song: “China? Why China? We are Indians!”

Ranjita Biswas