The air crash that led to death of five people including CM of Arunachal Pradesh awaits inquiry. Whatever comes out of inquiry, Dorjee Khandu is no more so are the other four onboard in the ill-fated helicopter.

Government machinery together with India’s premier organization ISRO, Indian Air Force and Indian Army were clueless for five days to locate the crash site. One doesn’t expect people at helms of affair to be embarrassed. There were plenty of excuses to save their faces: inclement weather, difficult terrain… Fact remains that ISRO’s tall claims of the state of art technology and having all weather surveillance capability are all shallow; the IAF aircraft cannot operate in Arunachal skies as it is cloudy and covered with fog most part of year; and the eastern border of India is only as safe as it was in 1962.

This author overheard some people, sitting in a tea stall, discussing about the possibility of conspiracy behind Khandu’s death. It seems quite an unlikely thing in Arunachal Pradesh. But when one goes through the turn of events since the news of missing helicopter carrying CM of Arunachal was aired on news channels the April 30 last, one can’t help but actually thinks there might have been.

Now looking back:

April 30, 2011, Pawan Hans helicopter carrying CM Dorjee Khandu and two passengers took off from Tawang at 9:56 am and lost radio communication after 20 minutes. By around 12:30 pm news of the missing chopper was broke out in news channels. Search operations were pressed on. Meanwhile, Principal Secretary to CM received a call informing him about the safe emergency landing of the chopper somewhere in eastern Bhutan in a place called Tapurejho. Similar information is reported to have received by IG SSB and IG Law and Order Assam. Then around 3 pm interviews were given by top brass of the state, including Governor Gen (retd.) JJ Singh, to various news channels about safe landing of the choppers. Later Sources from Bhutan denied having any report of emergency landing of the chopper in Bhutan. Thereafter, in following days based on the images taken by ISRO satellite and IAF Sukhoi 30, search operations were finally zeroed in to Nagajiji area in Indo Bhutan border west of Sela Pass. On the fifth day, some villagers spotted the debris of the chopper some kilometers east of Sela Pass.

Appears like a plot of mystery movie.

Who is this anonymous caller? Did he have prior information that the chopper is going to crash on its route? Did he call all these important persons to misguide and delay the search and rescue operations so that the survival possibilities from the crash are minimized? Whoever be this anonymous caller, he doesn’t appear to be an ordinary mischief monger who made crank call for fun. He knew the contact numbers of persons who matter. The Principal Secretary to CM even thought he was Khandu himself.

How could the likes of the Governor of Arunachal Pradesh, the Principal Secretary to CM and others be so easily duped by the anonymous call? Have any effort being made to trace the caller? Indeed the inclement weather and the terrains of Tawang and West Kameng districts made ISRO’s satellite and IAF aircraft so difficult to trace a helicopter which crashed only few kilometers away from where it lost the radio communication?

Indeed, was there conspiracy behind the chopper crash which killed the CM of Arunachal Pradesh? Or is it just a wild speculation?

At Yazali the Nyokum celebration was indeed a mega event. The hon’ble MLA of the area Mr. Likha Saaya was involved body and soul in making it big. Tagged as hi-fi Saaya, he ensured that the event was hi-fi, be it the list of VVIPs attended in the event to the arrangement of Bollywood singers and actors to entertain public. The celebration site was delight to watch- long Nyishi house having a hearth each for all Anchal segments of Ziro-II area in a single roof, beautifully constructed food stalls and exhibition stalls and a grand stage. It appeared like beautifully conceived amusement park. He sent a clear message to the world that he is youthful leader with new ideas and lot of energy. The event was costly but it worth when one intends to showcase culture and tradition of a community.

At Talo, the celebration was simple and participation was complete. Here also youth energy was palpable. This reporter was told that during late1990s and early 2000, the Nyokum was not celebrated in the village for some years. Reason: about 90% of the population in the village got converted to Christianity. In year 2008 a group of young people just out from college did the soul searching on their root. They felt the necessity of celebration of Nyokum to get reconnected to their root. They formed a team, the Briyani Team, and started campaigning for the celebration of Nyokum and delinking religion from indigenous culture. Thanks to the effort of the Briyani Team, Nyokum celebration was reinstated in the village and has never looked back ever since.

Back home at Manipur too, the report of positive dope result and the timing of declaration of result, didn’t go down well with the sportsperson and the people; with MOA (Manipur Olympic Association) deciding not to send participants to any National Championship and forthcoming National Games if Monica Devi is not sent to Beijing and citizens calling general strike on 8th August to protest dropping of Monica Devi at the eleventh hour.

Substantiating the general speculation that there may be something fishy about the dope test result, Monica Devi was cleared of all the charges. But alas, it came all too late for her to join the contingent to Beijing Olympics. India’s Olympic contingent Head Baljit Singh Sethi has said that there is no way Devi can compete. The entries closed on Aug. 7 for her event.

All this drama of doping charge at the eleventh hour and clearing of charges later, denying chance to sportsperson of this region to represent the country has put a big ‘Question Mark’ to the future of aspiring sportsperson of the region and the sports in India. Why this ‘politics’ to sabotage a sportsperson career and a chance to Olympics? Was it the case of preference over performance? Or as a colleague of mine suggested, it was a familiar case of intolerance of so-called mainstream Indian to the North-Easterner, which on any other time I would have differed but for the circumstances and timing of clearing the charges, which was in his favor.

Now, it would be interesting to see what action would be initiated against those responsible authorities. Or would there be any action at all?

It was a foggy night. I was on my way to home from my friend. The road was hardly visible but for the moonlight; the street lamps were not lit. A dead silence prevailed there. As I moved on, I expected the ghosts to appear any moment, from across the fences, above the branches of trees or grabbed me from behind. I felt as if my head was becoming bigger and bigger in size and my hair straightened up.

I tried my magic formula. I usually use my magic formula whenever I found myself alone in dark and fearful thought haunts me: SING AS LOUD AS I COULD. I sang very loudly and my voice was echoing into my ears. Singing broke the stillness but the dread of ghosts was still there. The stories of ghosts and evil spirits that I had heard from my grand mother were haunting me.

The stories I had heard were coming alive in my head, my song was echoing and I was walking in the middle of the road with my eyes looking straight. Now I could see my house not far away, still the dread was there.

Suddenly, I heard someone yelling after me, “Aye boy, listen!” Then after a pause, “Come here. Look what I have? I’ll give it to you just sing a song for me.”

When I heard the voice, I stopped trembled of fear. But I gathered up my courage and turned towards the direction of the voice. What did I see? I saw a monstrous creature, holding a long wooden log, coming towards me. There was no doubt that he was a ghost. “This seems too big for an ordinary ghost”, I told myself. “He must be the king of ghosts.”

I showered at the king of ghosts with stones and rock pieces- whatever I could gather from the ground, and then sped off –running and tumbling- till finally I sensed that I was home. I was frightened and breathing rapidly. I couldn’t say anything for quite sometime. “What’s the matter? Why are you looking so frightened? Obing, what’s wrong?” Mama was asking me. She looked very worried. I told her what I had seen.

“This is because you don’t return home in time and put your Mama and me in trouble.” Said Papa without even turning his face towards me; he was watching news channel on TV. I encountered the king of ghosts. I was dead frightened. But Papa thought it was some kind of joke and very funny. I hated him for that.

An argument started between Mama and Papa after dinner.

“From last couple of days” said Mama knowing very well that Papa would not take seriously what she was going to say, “I’m seeing bad dreams. I already told you this morning. Now Obing has also seen a ghost. This is not a good omen. We must consult our family priest. You know…”

“I don’t know” said Papa interrupting her. He looked little upset. This was not the first time Mama made up her mind to argue with him about bad omen, bad dreams and things like that. “I don’t know anything about your bad dreams, bad omen –modern women talking about such stupid things. As for what Obing has seen, it could be just an illusion. The other day you open the window under moonlight and a cloth hanging on the rope appears to you a lady in white rag in first sight. These things happen and …” He picked up the telephone without completing his sentence and asked the priest to come the next morning. He knew he can not convince Mama come what may.

The next day, early in the morning, I was woken up by the chanting of sacred hymns by the priest. He was holding an egg each in the both hands. The egg in the left hand was marked with black carbon soot. The chanting continued for few minutes. In this way the priest made enquiries of two groups of spirits, in the world of spirits, which he suspect was causing the trouble. After the chanting was over, the eggs were boiled in water. The priest took out the eggs after sometime, cut eggs in middle and started looking for signs in the yolk which give him the idea who was causing the trouble.

The priest lit up and smiled after seeing the sign in the egg marked with carbon soot. “Just as I had suspected” he said. “Now everything is going to be alright” he continued. “Two full grown hens and a cock are required for the rite.” Then he asked Papa to arrange some bamboo for the preparation of altar. Announcing that the rite will be started by 10 this morning, he left the house.

Papa too left for bamboo garden. Just as Mama and I were sitting by the fireplace an old man entered the room. He was Aku Tani, a nice old man –he was very fond of children. I could see he had fallen somewhere or had a fight with his wife the last night for a bandage was tied round his head and there were some wounds on his face as well. Mama made him sit by the other side of the fireplace. She offered him a mug of rice beer. “What happened to your head and face? Fallen somewhere or what?” she asked him.

“No. It was that rascal boy” he said. “Last night there was no power supply, so I went out in the moonlight wearing black woolen shawl of mine. I walked around for a while and sat down in the roadside, leaning against a lamp post. Just then I saw a young boy passing by me, singing loudly. I yelled out to him and asked him to sing a song for me. Do you know what he did? He showered at me with stones and rock pieces and ran away.” Now he took a long sip of the rice beer and looked at me suspiciously. “He was of his age -8, 9 years may be.”

“You don’t mean it was Obing?” Mama said interrupting him in middle.

“No,” he said, still looking at me –looking up and down. “It was dark and foggy out there. I could not see the face clearly. If I find him, that rascal boy, I’ll break his hands and cut his ears and put them into his mouth.”

As the old man went away, Mama looked at my blushed face and smiled. It was so embarrassing; I had mistaken that good old man to be the king of ghosts and wounded him so badly. “What about the rite, the hens and the cock?” I asked Mama.

“It’s alright.” She patted on my back and said. “We can’t do anything now.”