
They8217;ve been there for more than a year now but even the Rajputs, manning India8217;s final outpost at Nathu La, seem a little dazed by this sudden rush of public interest in a disused trail.
From the time the Pass was thrown open to tourists, people had always headed straight for the barbed wire fence, calling out to PLA troops and thrusting legs through gaps for a feel of Tibet on the other side. Yet this whole week has been very different.
As he watched our eyes dart, the young Rajput officer walked up. 8216;8216;It8217;s there. You can8217;t see it now. Wait a while.8217;8217; Even as he spoke, the mist cleared to bare a dirt track. 8216;8216;That is your Silk Route. You were looking for this, weren8217;t you? Well, now everyone wants to see just that. They plan to make it work again.8217;8217; And for those who didn8217;t believe him, he pointed to a board: Old Silk Route.
So this was it. A little pony trail which for centuries never failed traders and herdsmen, meandering its way through valleys, gorges and steep mountain slopes to link Lhasa with Kalimpong. Generations swore by the Silk Route, its caravan serais spawning stories of a fabled land, reclusive monks, hidden secrets and unimaginable wealth. And Nathu La, the windy pass overlooking the scenic Chumbi Valley in Tibet, served as the gateway to India.
For four decades after the Sino-Indian war of 1962, Nathu La remained a no-no pass. Even after it was thrown open to tourists a couple of years ago, it didn8217;t have much to offer: you got to see our troops and PLA troops. Unlike Wagah, no foot-stomping soldiers here, no crowds to cheer a flag ritual. 8216;8216;This was never a ceremonial border. It8217;s a tough post,8217;8217; the Major grunted. At 14,000 feet plus, with the wind shrieking and rain beating down, you couldn8217;t agree more.
Yet there8217;s one ceremony which you don8217;t get to see at other places. Since the closure of the Pass snapped a centuries-old link, the Chinese and Indians worked out a little arrangement to keep open one channel of communication. It8217;s quite a sight: the postman rings twice even here.
On two days of a week 8212; Sunday and Thursday 8212; the two sides allow their postmen to swap mail. The Indian postman, we were told, would drive here all the way from Gangtok 8212; although 55 km away, the ride to Nathu La takes three hours 8212; while his Chinese counterpart showed up from Yutang, 25 km from the Pass and a trade hub before the 1962 war.
8216;8216;Lhasa8217;s not even 500 km from here. Were you to drop a letter for Lhasa at the Parliament Street post-office, it would go via Hong Kong, Beijing, and Chinese censors permitting, then onto Lhasa. That would take weeks. From here, it takes days.8217;8217;
But it8217;s the re-opening of the Pass that has everyone excited. Where will they set up Customs here? Will there be a connection for Yutang? Are they going to widen the road? Bombarded with questions, armymen simply shrug: 8216;8216;We are soldiers. We don8217;t take these decisions. It8217;s for others to plan. We will wait for orders.8217;8217; A final walk in the clouds and you exit Nathu La, convinced that a single announcement in Beijing last week was already infusing new life into a dead track. Nathu La and the Silk Route shall see the old days again.