Along with swish cruise ships where wine is stocked from a place where every year is a good year and humble goods trawlers transports your favourite blend of tea; the river and its tributaries are peppered with rickety country boats. During monsoons, when the river repeatedly flexes its muscles, destroying roads and bridges, these boats remain the only means of transport for thousands of people. They glide above the waves, fragile as a twig, buoyed by the strength of a thousand prayers.
If you happen to board one of these ubiquitous country boats, or 'Bhut bhutis’, that crisscross the mighty Brahmaputra River, I’d advise you to immediately head to the deck. Despite the wide expanse of water around, the ‘cabin’ below can get a bit claustrophobic. It is also almost at the water level, the swirling currents just a quick splash away. Not advisable for those who are a little skittish. Add to this the constant ‘bhut bhut’ of the noisy diesel engines (hence the name 'bhut bhuti'), and the not-so-pleasant diesel fumes, and you are well on your way to turn a sickly shade of green. However, the top deck - corrugated strips of iron bound together by a framework of wood - is a far more pleasant space to be in. You can take part in low-stakes card games, join an impromptu debate on which politician is the most corrupt, watch sly egrets try to steal fish from the fishermen’s baskets, look out for shy river dolphins or simply whisper secrets to the ever-present playful breeze.
