Standing so conveniently close to the town, access to the Puliebadze is easy and it offers a decently strenuous 3-hour trek. But strangely you won’t find it mentioned on any of the travel brochures brought out by either the tourism department or the many hotels. Then, strangeness in various avatars – ignorance, humorous, affably arrogant, outrightly weird – is one thing you get used to in Nagaland. From the top you get a near perfect aerial view of Kohima ‘village’ – which the locals proudly proclaim to be the second largest village in Asia. The sheer spread of this ‘village’ will be at par with that of any bustling town or a fast growing city making you wonder why it is called a ‘village’. “Could be that we are still surrounded by forests?” My hunter companion offered helpfully. But the cover is giving away fast, I wanted to point out to him. A few more Hornbills and Puliebadze Hill could be Puliebadze P.O., Kohima. My fears didn’t seem to be unfounded as on our way down a different route, we saw a road was being bulldozed through the serene green cover cutting trees over a hundred years old, all the way to the top. My hunter pal donned on the strangeness, in its blissful, ignorant cloak, pointed out to me a chunky green caterpillar that was swelling its way across the new road. He had earlier taken his dao saying that wild bisons were frequently spotted on Puliebadze and I had felt an adrenaline rush; I packed my dao too. But the closest we came to the elusive bison was a fly-crusted dung and my hand reached towards my dao till my host announced that it was at least a day old. So he seemed to be happy being able to show me some kind of animal, he took it and carefully placed it on a leaf and the caterpillar happily curled itself around a tender bud. A hospitable Naga is a happy Naga. And a happy Naga makes everybody happy. Strangely, suddenly, I felt happy too.