Makum now had the biggest Chinatown, known as Cheenapatti.

It was just after daybreak. Leaving the pleasant somnolence of the early morning, this peripheral region of Assam was gradually becoming abuzz with activity.

It was not only the meeting point of two railroads – it was also the intersection of two important highways going east and south. One road turned right over the level crossing, went through Digboi, Pawoi, Margherita, Ledo and Lekhapani and entered the Tirap Frontier Division of NEFA. Beyond that was Burma. The other road went ahead, parallel to the railroad and, turning left, it went beyond Doom Dooma to the last station, Dangori. This was the road that entered the Lohit Frontier Division of NEFA. The Lohit Frontier Division ended at the border between India and China, separated by the McMahon Line. In both these metre gauge lines, the trains were pulled by coal-fired steam engines. Even though Makum was a small town, it was strategically important because of its location at the intersection of two roads from where one could reach the border of two neighbouring states. The town grew around the Makum junction, the last in Upper Assam.

The marketplace was close to the level crossing. Compared to other places, Makum bazaar was a hive of activity during the day. On the right side of the train track was a row of shops. Among these were four shoe shops owned by Chinese people.

A tall, handsome young man was walking towards the shops. He was a clerk at the Samdang tea estate of the Doom Dooma Tea Company. His name was Pulok Baruah. He had come to meet Lee Chang, his friend and one-time classmate; they also belonged to the same football club. They had celebrated the wedding of their classmate Narayan Sarma’s sister together just the previous night. Pulok was dressed in a black-and-green check poplin shirt with terry cotton trousers. His hair was parted to the right with a little wave in front and he sported a thin moustache. His thoughtful face and dreamy eyes glowed with youthfulness. His entire persona exuded a hassle-free life.

There was hardly anyone who didn’t know Pulok and his team. They were all good football players. The superintendent of the Doom Dooma Tea Company, William Addison, who was a patron of their Seven Star Club, had personally offered him the job.

None in this area was as good in making customized shoes as the Chinese. Though the shops were small, the Chinese shoemakers were well-off. They had their own house and land in Cheenapatti. One of the shops belonged to Lee Chang’s father. Lee Chang had joined the family business two years ago. He had his own shop in Tinsukia. He looked after this shop in Makum in the morning and went to Tinsukia in the afternoon.

‘Hey Pulok. Come, come in.’ Lao Thien Lee, the middle-aged owner of the first shop called out, smiling broadly. His small bright eyes were buried in his plump, rosy cheeks.