The days of the Great Leap Forward, and the dream of building a modern China, were not over yet. The agriculture sector was still under the absolute control of the government. Individual farming was banned. In its place, communes had been formed. This had changed the entire socio-economic system. The famine had also greatly affected society as a whole. Slowly, conditions were improving. The export of grains had been stopped. Imported grains had started coming in from Australia and Canada. The Great Leap Forward was still on, as it was attached to the ‘five-year plans’, but not with the same intensity as before. It would end this year. Change had come to the political sector, too. Mao was now the chairman of the Communist Party. Deng Xiaoping was the general secretary. Liu Shao Qi was now the chairman of the PRC.

After the train journey came the trucks, heading towards the farm. The returnees looked around with curiosity and surprise.

An unknown country!

Still, it didn’t feel entirely unknown. Somehow the climate, the air, the nature and the people, was similar to Assam. But, though life around them was in motion, something was missing. Most of the people they saw looked grave. The forests near the villages and towns they crossed were thin and sparse. They saw furnaces in every school and office compound. It appeared as if they hadn’t been used for a long time. For rapid industrial growth, under Mao’s direction, the whole nation became busy in producing steel. It had been quite some time since the days of hectic production of steel ended. Only the furnaces remained.

Slowly the line of trucks started climbing the hill.

Finally, they reached a place near a forest. The officials of the Receiving Committee got down from the first vehicle.

‘From here you have to walk. The road is not motorable.’

The returnees got down without protest. Carrying their belongings and the small children, they began to walk. Before the curious eyes of the passersby, the line of gaunt people moved forward.

When they reached the farm, it was afternoon. To receive the returnees a few government officials and the local leaders of the CPC were waiting outside. Some local people were also standing nearby, watching curiously.

The returnees looked around with tired eyes. In front of them was a big compound inside which stood a line of brick-walled old barracks. On the left was a thin, sparse forest. On the right was a wide field, beyond which was the village.

‘This is your farm. Hua quiao Nongchang,’ said the Receiving Committee’s official.

‘“Nongchang” means farm. It’s a farm for the overseas Chinese,’ Ho Chang Ho said in a low voice.

‘Hak gwai. Hak gwai. Black ghosts. Black ghosts.’

‘Indu ren. Indu ren. Indians. Indians.’

The familiar words started spilling out of the mouths of the locals. Sheer hatred started to replace the curiosity.