Journeys Behind the Craft - IV

The girl behind Msere is Maggie.

My partner, Pratikchha, had discovered her on social media, completely fascinated by her range of organic, single-piece wooden kitchenware. If it belongs in a kitchen and it's made of wood, Maggie makes it. If she doesn’t have it, she will create it.

Before leaving Mumbai, Pratikchha handed me Maggie's number. "Call her when you land in her territory", she told me.

So, fresh off my rooftop evening at the Sky Lounge with Joe and Viseino, I pulled out my phone and dropped her a message. She sent over a location that immediately caught my eye: Diezephe Village.

I liked the name the moment I read it. In my head, it instantly triggered a classic rock note. Diezephe... Dee-zeh-peh. It sounded an awful lot like Zeppelin.

The next morning, I called her. No answer. A few minutes later, a text popped up explaining she was at Sunday family service, but that their team member, who ran a local biking service, could pick me up from my hotel at 11:30 a.m.

The price? ₹500 round trip.

By noon, my bike taxi rider, David, pulled up.

The blistering Dimapur heat from my first day had vanished. Either the weather had cooled down, or my Mumbai bones were finally adapting to the mountains😇. Honestly? Who knows, and who cares, as long as the ride is good.

And what a ride it was. A beautiful, breezy Sunday afternoon.

As David navigated the roads, we zipped past the Dimapur airport, the open runway stretching out beside us. Because it was Sunday, the usual traffic was gone. We crossed through Diphupar Village and cruised past the beautiful Angami Baptist Church.

The quiet empty streets gave me a massive wave of nostalgia. It felt exactly like a lazy Sunday afternoon siesta in Goa, just minus the chilled beer.

And then, the road threw me a curveball.

Right there, rising up against the sky, was the Nagaland Cricket Stadium. A full-fledged cricket stadium. In Nagaland! I blinked twice to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected that here.

Next came the entrance to Singri Janokhopanala Village. The massive archway was crowned with giant, crossed Kukri. David told me this is a well-known Gorkha (Nepali) majority village.

  The crossed Kukris are more than decoration. For the Gorkha community, the Kukri carries a deep cultural association with strength, courage and protection, so seeing them proudly displayed at the village entrance felt like a fitting welcome.

Eventually, the road meandered through fields, beneath a canopy of shady trees that formed a natural green archway over the asphalt. At the entrance stood a massive archway crowned with giant, crossed blades. David told me they were stylised Naga Dao (the traditional Naga blade). The Dao, once an essential everyday tool and an iconic symbol of Naga warrior tradition, remains a powerful emblem of Naga identity, resilience and pride, a small detail that instantly tells you you’re entering a place deeply rooted in its heritage.

We finally pulled into the village that sounded like Led Zeppelin😊 Diezephe.

As we stopped, a guy stepped out of his car, smiled, and walked straight toward me.

"I'm Joel," he said, introducing himself as Maggie's husband and business partner. Then, he looked at me and casually dropped: "Kasa haise tu?"

Time out.

That is literal Marathi for "How are you?"

I stood there in complete shock. Of all the places, I never expected to bump into a guy speaking fluent Marathi on the easternmost edge of our country.

We walked into their home, met Maggie, and within seconds, she handed me a cold pint of beer. "We kept this for you," she smiled.

Talk about serendipity! I had literally just been daydreaming about a cold beer while passing the church.