Go before it goes. This delightful anthem runs through the air as the mighty Brahmaputra—crowned the son of the creator of the universe, Lord Brahma—meanders through Assam before emptying itself in the Bay of Bengal. One of the many gifts of the river is the humble Sandbar island in Guwahati.
The slice of land that emerges every year, for six months, when the level of the water wanes in winter, and sinks into the currents when the glacial melt in the Himalayas feeds the source of the flow. This year, the sandy terrain of the river island has gained a glamorous complexion for three months with the celebrations that form part of the Brahmaputra Carnival.
Ten minutes in a small speedboat from Lachit Ghat takes you to this natural wonder. There are its tinier siblings, in small sandy stretches, locally dubbed as “char”, but Sandbar island stands large and luring in the middle of the Brahmaputra.
Clean, crisp air wafts into your nostrils as the motorised run of the boat across the sometimes-sharp, sometimes-gentle currents along the spine of the Brahmaputra fills you with awe, and gratitude.
Blame the surroundings: green blanketed mountains—the silent Purvanchal range looking on as the river flows through Guwahati—the odd cottages dotting a few permanent river islands; crowds waiting patiently for the ferry with their two-wheelers, and family members, to cross the chest of the river, the birds circling in the sky, the urban motifs in bridges-in-making against the skyline, and the bobbing tents that are fast left behind as you move farther and farther away from the Ghat and the din of the city.
It is at this point that the lonely jetty on Sandbar island appears in your line of vision. Sighing in quietude, waiting for the solo gargling throttle of the engine to come to rest by its side. The sun frowns on the sands. This isn’t a loamy strip in the middle of the water, like the super slim Jarada tidal island off the main coast in Bahrain, in the Arabian sea, that appears and disappears with the tide.
Glamping on Sandbar island is a beautiful experience. With all modern comforts lacing the 20-odd tents that cup a large open space in the centre, the stage is set for nippy breeze racing across the expanse.
Local food makes the experience come alive on your taste buds, with aloo pitika packed with mustard and chillies; spicy Assamese preparations in duck gravy, and the fragrant, rustic pork belly cooked with mustard greens and roasted sesame in a banana leaf, those mini coconut-gur laddoos evocative of Bihu celebrations, together with the pitha making way to your plate.
The sun scalds as it climbs the sky, and when it descends the colours of the sunset pour themselves across the blue, perfectly captured in your camera as you stand on the machan on the banks. Then the temperature nosedives suddenly when the ball of fire dips into the horizon around 4 pm, plunging everything into thick darkness.
Call it luxury of a different kind. Toasting your palms against the bamboo-powered makeshift bonfires by the river, tracing the shapes of different constellations in the sky, watching the Bihu performed by locals, and relishing songs by Papon in Assamese while huddling in tribal shawls is a surreal feeling, special to this small slice of the world. Peace comes dropping by in the stillness, as the silent searing wind slowly parts ways to usher in the thick fog that blankets the entire island, and the river till late morning.
There is no rush, amid the rush of the river. Gambol with solitude, soak up the serene, indulge in a spot of archery, and play a game of volleyball with the locals on the sand to warm up.
Speed solo across the river on a jet-ski, or kayak at leisure by the banks till the speedboat takes you back to Lachit Ghat that comes alive with the vibe of the Brahmaputra Carnival every day.
Strains of Assamese music belted out by live bands fill the air as if serenading the crackling silkworms, tiny mud crabs, and juicy shrimps on the skewers above the fiery coals. Savour the local preparations—rice beer, silkworm chaat, and kurkure chicken momos. Enjoy the hum of the chilli on your lips as you shop around for tiny keepsakes and home essentials crafted in bamboo and cane.
The draw of the disappearing destination in Sandbar island brings you in close communion with your own self in this precious part of the North East—knitting you in a multitude of ways to the ancient crucible that forms part of our cultural heritage.
(Brahmaputra Carnival at Lachit Ghat in Guwahati ends on March 15)