I had spent most mornings languishing in my hotel room in Jatinga. To pass the time, I would often chat with fellow travellers and discuss topics like the occult and mysticism in the East. Most of them listened to me with fascination and enjoyed the stories I had to share. Some were tales of how Ramanujan, the great mathematical genius, could solve equations even before the entire problem was presented to him.

Many listened with joy; some were intrigued by my habit of talking to myself, while others simply passed by thinking I was a bit eccentric. The afternoons were usually warm, though it rained at times. I found a very friendly auto-wala who took me all around the village—to some fascinating churches, viewpoints, and waterfalls.

Waterfall

I decided I had to take a dip in one of the waterfalls, and that’s exactly what I did. I was happy to know that, even after crossing fifty, I still had the energy to jump into a cold waterfall and enjoy a refreshing bath—which I duly did. The pool beneath the fall was deep, and the water was ice-cold, yet I had a wonderful time just bobbing up and down in the current.

Jatinga is still quite backward; much of the surrounding area is dense jungle filled with bamboo trees. There are a few schools and churches scattered around, giving the impression of a small but close-knit community life. Haflong is the nearest city to Jatinga—a bustling town with banks, ATMs, and other amenities, including a hospital and a college.

One must also visit Haflong when in Jatinga. I managed to go to a quaint little place called the Dimasa Cottage—a kind of tribal heritage village with statues of tribal chiefs and freedom fighters who had fought valiantly against the British and thwarted invasions into Assam and its many towns.