Om cruise

Ravi Shankar watches history do a thimblerig on the Brahmaputra as he sits aboard the threedecked Sukapha Cruiser, trying to assume the depth of the mighty river.


Depth is an assumption. The mind, always measuring, watching, riding the tides of both reality and imagination feels the sudden pull before the body becomes even aware of it.

There is an imperceptible shift in perception, and the mind seeks the measure of it. Then the shift is gone, as if it was just a little splatter of a playful river dolphin leaping at the sun, and gone. The tide is back to a rythmic, lazy flow.

On board the sundeck of the Sukapha, lazing on a deckchair, I try to assume the depth of the Brahmaputra. And I realise that its depth is that of the centuries.

Again here, myth, history and luxury forms a cunning chiaroscuro and the river cruiser named after Ahom’s king seems to follow an ancient, eponymous route. In the oral folklore of the Naga Buranjis, Sukapha was a 12th-century general from Maulung with a compelling itinerant ambition.

On his way to Assam (then Ahom), leading an army of 800 footmen, 300 cavalry and two war elephants, he fought the Nagas of the Patkoi on his way to conquering the valley of Assam.

the threedecked Sukapha CruiserThe threedecked Sukapha Cruiser
He founded his dynasty and capital city east of Sibsagar, in 1229. The ruins of Charaideo house the pyramids of Ahom, where the royals of Sukhapa’s dynasty sleep.

History is doing a thimblerig on the Brahmaputra. The white river cruiser with its three decks invokes other voyages. Of its ancient king, Sibsagar and his lineage which was felled by the East India Company.

The Ahom of Sukapha at times does not seem very different from the Assam seen from the Sukapha—at times the Brahmaputra is so wide that you have to imagine the other side.

A great brown beast that is an endless shoulder of flowing water. Through the trees, one glimpses land that is green and fresh ochre, and sun-dappled slopes on which tree branches grow achingly towards the water.

The passage of the boat is slow and measured, and there is a consensus of pace both on water and on land—small canoes pass, the boatman glancing up at the white tourists sunning themselves on the deck.

Ahom of Sukapha
Through the windows of the Sukapha’s suites, the little canoe is framed in a casual passage, like a lost photograph in the riverwind.

The gigantic banyan trees on the shore witness the cruise like their forebears must have watched the Ahom kings riding and cruising, their relationship with water and land as symbiotic as that of the traveller on board the river cruiser.

The Ahom kings built huge lakes, across 120 to 320 acres, fathered by deep underground springs, guarded by striations, dykes and moats.

They also built three -storeyed underground garrisons with tunnels leading to the Dikhow river, and huge castles like Kereng Ghar which has two subterranean routes to the river.

The river cruise is part of this old covenant. The Brahmaputra is not just the main river of Assam, it is the soul of Ahom. The traveller is part of the enduring river myth —of the world’s highest river, the river that can unleash tidal waves, the river of many names, the river bearing a male name—the son of Brahma, the Creator.

The MV Sukapha moored near Kaziranga National ParkThe MV Sukapha moored near Kaziranga National Park
The Brahmaputra begins in Tibet as the Yarlung Tsangpo river, reaches Arunachal Pradesh with the name Dihang. Passing majestically through the Assam Valley, it assumes its own name before becoming the Jamuna in Bangladesh.

Here the Brahmaputra and Ganga conjoin to birth the Sunderbans delta and later fork out into the Hooghly and Padma. One river with many names, one river with many forms.

The Brahmaputra river cruise, started in 2003, is operated by Assam Bengal Navigation (ABN). The travel company is an Indo-British operation with offices in Guwahati and London. Following the Brahmaputra’s course, ABN runs Hooghly cruises as well.

It owns two luxury river boats, the Charaidew and the Sukapha, each boasting 12 en suite cabins. The cruise is air-conditioned, a much needed respite from the steaming days of early summer.

The bedrooms are not large but are extremely comfortable; all have water views. The saloon on the upper deck is a large room with a bar in a corner.

Sofas and chairs are scattered in comfortable disarray —many spend the afternoons reading and watching the river pass by as the sun begins to get westerly.

The bedroom of the Diphlu river LodgeThe bedroom of the Diphlu river Lodge
A cruise can last as long as 12 days and the boat doesn’t sail at night. There are breaks in passage along the Brahmaputra, for jeep safaris into the forests to spot rhinos and tiger, predawn elephant safaris in Kaziranga and birdwatching trips.

Some nights, there is a barbeque on the beach and songs around the campfire under the great starry vault of the nightsky.

The untamed power of the Brahmaputra, the pagan landscape, animals in the wild and eco-resorts; all come together to create a carefully prepared portmanteau of luxury and eco-ethnic primitivism. Those on board the Sukapha seem to love it.

Sukapha and Assam Bengal Navigation’s clientele is largely Western; British and Europeans mainly, on a late romance with India.

The verandah overlooking river Diphlu and the Kaziranga National ParkThe verandah overlooking river Diphlu and the Kaziranga National Park
The majority of bookings are done from London and ABN offers jungle resorts to rest your sea legs: the Bansbari Lodge at the beginning of the Manas National Park and the Diphlu River Lodge at Kaziranga National Park.

The Diphlu is a thin silver strip of water that wanders through the Kaziranga for est fringed by wild grass that grows tall like brown toupees on small hillocks. The River Lodge is built on the banks of the Diphlu river. Across the water is the Kaziranga forest.

At night, herds of rhinos come to graze by the water. Their grey hides look like tank armour in the night light. “No lights,” the manager says, “the forest guards have orders to shoot first and ask questions later.”

A policy which has perhaps worked well for the game sanctuary. Kaziranga National Park used to be plagued by poachers, and rhinos and tigers were hunted mercilessly.

A view of the Diphlu River Lodge cottagesA view of the Diphlu River Lodge cottages
But today, the poachers have been contained to a large extent. The 2006 census shows that Kaziranga is home to 70 per cent of the world’s Indian rhino population.

Driving through Assam along the national highway, you can see the rhinos grazing peacefully. It’s a guaranteed roadside photo-op. The Diphlu River Lodge is an eco-resort built on stilts in the middle of green paddy fields.

Walk across a long bamboo bridge over the emerald carpet and marvel at how flimsy the bamboo looks, when in reality it’s very strong.

The rooms are large with a rustic feel, and the verandahs offer comfortable chairs to sink into and watch wildlife with a cold Budweiser or two. Deckchairs are kept on the patios, keeping sun worshippers in mind.

The bathrooms have glass sides which open out into the sky. From my verandah, I can see an elephant being brought to the river bank for a bath.

MV Sukapha at night near Orang National ParkMV Sukapha at night near Orang National Park
It flaps its ears and shakes its massive head. It can’t wait to wade in. But the village woman hasn’t finished her bath yet. The mahout shouts across the water, the solitary bather smiles at him and keeps bathing.

The elephant makes its slow descent into the water and the suprised bather gathers her wet clothes around her, protesting vociferously. But it’s a big elephant. The tourists who have driven down for lunch from the Sukapha berthed an hour’s drive away take photographs.

Few have seen an elephant bathe before. The food at Diphlu River Lodge is as good as the food on the cruise—authentic Ahom cooking.

Rice with loads of pork swimming in red gravy, tiny fish in mustard gathered together like a golden bouquet, bamboo flowers and lai, some sort of mustard greens. The travellers love it. The chefs who work for ABN are also trained to anticipate the demands of Caucasian palates.

Breakfast on board the Sukapha is typical English—fresh marmalade, butter, eggs and toast; only the kippers are missing. Dinner on the white sand beach is a gentle meltdown of the day, a prelude to deep sleep.

The Brahmaputra rocks the boat. Its tides are full of whispers that swim into your sleep. On the silent boat, sleep comes with a distant, faery quality. That your sleep is part of the river dreaming. But you can’t assume anything. Anything at all.

(The writer is Managing Editor, VOI TV and can be reached at

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