Fried Eye says- Below is an example of experimental write up where in four fifty five fictions have been incorporated to form one complete story. Fifty five fiction is a micro fiction limited within 55 words

The End
She gasped one last time before everything went limp and … dead. His hand grasped hers tightly willing her to live, his face contorted with rage and pain. Road traffic accidents were a major cause of deaths in that city.
She lost her life in one such accident. He , his sanity.

The Beginning of the end

Six months back she had discovered his infidelity.
Five months ago she lost hope.
Four months it was, when she went to the miracle man
Three months since he was back with her .
Two months into the affair, he was hopelessly in love with her all over again.
Last month the accident happened.

The Miracle

Four months ago The Miracle man had passed a paper and pen to her.
“Write down what you want and it will be granted”
She believed him, more because she wanted to believe that it could happen.
She wrote down obediently her wishes.
He came back
Miracle did happen but so did the curse.

The curse

The Miracle Man read it impassively.
Why?
Isn’t it obvious? She replied
He read it again just to be sure.
“I want him to come back to me, fall in love hopelessly with me to the point of no return and then I wish I Die”
“Ah! Revenge! “ and he shook his head sadly.

While surfing through the net for sites dedicated to Indian classical music, we chanced upon Ragascape or www.ragascape.com which introduced itself as a website designed to discuss the melodic modes of Indian music. Though there were other sites that promoted Indian classical music, some in a totally no nonsense , commercial manner, ragascape stood out among them because of its sheer simplicity and yet with an unadulterated devotion and reverence for a subject as pure as Indian classical music. Another noteworthy fact was that the website was an initiative by an American Steven Landsberg who had been researching and practicing Indian classical music since last thirty years. He also carries the distinction of being the only Surbahar disciple of the great Ustad Mushtaq Ali Khan, the most outstanding surbahar player in the dhrupad style of this century and the greatest exponent of the Senia Sitar style.If morning shows the day, then surely Ragascape held a lot of promises as seen by the first few glimpses that we had the moment we entered the site.

The site itself is an artistically designed uncluttered , systematic one with the homepage having a dedication to the Godess Saraswati and a few words as an introduction to what the site and its categories were about. Navigation was easy and subjects and contents remain focused and direct. Though that was a somewhat technical overview , but again a neat , well structured interface is a mark of a website that knows what it wants to say to its readers. The content at such times can always be expected to be well researched and well articulated . And that is what Ragascape is. It is a well researched musical journey and a memorable experience in itself .

It was categorised into five main topics

Sources-

musical pilgrimage

Ragascapes

Raga exchange

Cd world

As can be deduced from the name, Ragascape covered essays on the various aspects of Indian music and also the intricacies of specific ragas and melodic scales . The contents featured multiple well researched subjects by various authors out of which the topic Kanailal and brothers : The history of an Indian instrument maker by Landberg himself is a great read and also a rare find. The essay detailed the development of a famous sitar manufacturer and the contributions he made to the modern sitar and chronicles the period starting from Bahadur Shah Zafar’s reign, when the first shop was set till 1995 when the shop was finally closed. So detailed is the article ( though never monotonous) and well researched, that the essay stands out as being one priceless piece of history. No wonder , it was supposed to be submitted in the Metropolitian museum in Art, New York city along with an instrument from Kanailal and brother shop.

Musical pilgrimage was about Landberg’s own journey into the realm of Indian classical music which is intriguing given by the fact that he is an American and who had no musical background when he first made his foray, on a whim, into the world of Indian classical music No doubt he was fascinated by it since the first time he came across it, but the story of how he was incorporated as one of its own by the close knit, disciplined, devoted and dedicated world of Indian classical music makes for an interesting read and is a potential autobiographical book material.It also gives a glimpse of the traditional aspect of the Gharanas, the Gurukul system and the purity of a Guru Shishya relationship  through his eyes and experiences and of their  importance in defining an artist. Landberg also shares interesting anecdotes of the period he spent learning classical music under the tutelage of Ustad Mushtaq Ali Khan . It will be interesting to let you know that Landberg happens to be the only disciple who was taught Surbahar by the Maestro. The write up also consists of rare photographs of some happy moments spend by Landberg with his master and some milestones of his student period.

Sources is all about the legacy of Landberg’s guru Ustad Mushtaq Ali khan and spans from a period as early as the early eighteenth century and traces the origin and spans across to show how with each age, the legacy of classical music was handed down to the descendants and how there were further additions of knowledge into the same due to their thirst for learning newer techniques and newer instruments. The article mentions in brief almost all the stalwarts of the Nayak Dhondu lineage, a dhrupad singer of Shahjahan’s court, of which Ustad Mushtaq Ali Khan was a descendent and carries information on Waras Ali Khan, Ashiq Ali khan and Barkatullah Khan . A rare collection of the recordings of Ustad Mushtaq Ali Khan are displayed in archives.

Raga Exchange interestingly is a recommendation of links on similar websites on music and can be called a virtual treasure trove.. Surely Landsberg did believe and also realise about the importance of peaceful coexistence. The site also has an option of literary contribution from other music aficionados or enthusiasts on the matter related to Indian classical music. . That ensures that a strong database of information is formed for sharing and promotion all over the web. Landsberg surely has offered the highest form of Gurudakshina to his Guru by way of immortality of his legacy through cyberspace and also proved his commitment towards knowledge and music by attempting on his part to spread the beauty and purity of Indian Classical music to the world.

Ragascape indeed is a collector item for your webpage bookmark list and if you are into classical music, both academically or otherwise then this site is one big treasure island.

Oh Eco friendly nature ke rakhshak , the song blared out loud from my music system as I clicked on the link that Sanjeeta had sent to me and should I call it a providence, but it led to me an initiative ‘Oh My India-’ about eco friendly lifestyle. I was intrigued and clicked some more which led me on to Green Gangtok which said about itself as Eco fashion for the eco conscious. The common thread to both was the owner Omi Gurung. What was the triangle all about?

Omi Gurung from Sikkim, now based in Bangalore , an achiever throughout , is an activist, a writer and editor, an entrepreneur and also a successful fashion designer to boot. At the age of 22, he was the editor for Dateline Bangalore and later worked as a fashion editor for a youth magazine in Bangalore. He has also been featured in leading newspapers in India like The Hindu,DNA, Vijay Times, TOI,Bangalore Mirror, Talk Sikkim, The New Indian Express, Deccan Herald, Deccan Chronicle, Midday, Prajawani, Usha Kiran, Vijaya Next, Udayavani,Sikkim Mail and many more.At the age of 25 he has proved to the world his commitment to the environment and also has dared to be different with Oh My India and Green Gangtok -an eco boutique, a first of its kind in Sikkim. We had the opportunity to have him as our guest and enjoy a short chit chat with him, here in Fried Eye.

Q1/ Omi Gurung (Sandeep Gurung) ,fashion designer, writer, editor, entrepreneur, visionary: a topper in school and college, award winning designs, editor at the young age of 22, an activist and finally an entrepreneur. all at the young, very young age of 25 years. Who or what has shaped/inspired Omi Gurung to be what he is today ?

I draw my inspiration from the surrounding, it could be anything living or non-living entity. A keen observer and a fast learner I have learned it hard way from the university of life. It was my determination and aspiration to do and be something in life that gave an identity to my name. It would be unfair if I do not mention my parents and teachers, they have played a vital role during my growing years.

Q2/ Opting for a career as a Fashion Designer (which is still considered unconventional in Indian society), was it difficult for you to pursue it? Did you have to face any hardships or objections?

Oh yes, many; where do I begin my story with (lol). Fashion Designing was an alien culture 10 years back and for a bright student to pursue it as a career did raise eyebrows. No one in my family was happy of my decision but as time passed, achievements did help break the silence. Reading about “ME” on national dailies made them feel happy and proud too. However, I was focused and worked hard to accomplish my dreams.

Q3/At the age of 22 you turned into an Editor and writer? How did writing and magazines happen?

Well, designing and writing are two things close to my heart since childhood. When some one asked what do you want to be when you grow up? My answer was always Fashion designer cum writer. I still remember many laughed and said next to impossible for a little boy from hills to make it big. But I knew, if Bandana Tiwari (Fashion features director, Vogue India) could make it, why not me? She too was fom a small state Sikkim. So when I came to Bangalore, I also came along with my dreams. While I was in my fashion college, I made it a point to take out time for writing too and in a year I was writing for several online portals like Burrp and Desiblitz. By the year I graduated, my style tips was published by several publications in Bangalore. Later after few years I enrolled for PG Diploma in Jornalism from Sri Sri Centre for Media Studies and was chosen as editor for the inhouse lab journal. I never came second, first became my default rank in SSCMS. Bangalore had accepted me and so did I, it became my home. I was in love with the place and people there, met several people from all walks of life and explored the city as a localite. I could feel the pulse of the city and knew what was happening. As I graduated from SSCMS, I was offered a post of fashion editor. It was because of my networking skills and past writing experiences, I was the chosen one.

Q4/Which one do you consider yourself more? A writer or a fashion designer

I consider myself as an artist as I design, write and advocate.

Q5/ OMI and Green Gangtok, your pet projects, are both committed to a green lifestyle. Could you please share with us a little bit about them? Their objectives and aims, their functions,. How different are they from each other?

Oh My India (OMI) is not an NGO, it is an initiative that catalysis change in the lifestyle of people in India by creating awareness to Reduce, Reuse and Recycle domestic waste and helping them to get started. We believe that by following 3R concept and going green, we can do our bit to protect the environment and is a great way to reduce environmental footprint as well.

At OMI, we advocate about green living habits i.e. we CARE, we SHARE, we INSPIRE. We care for our mother earth, so we share ideas and information on green lifestyle via social networking sites and in the process, we inspire others to be the change. We also conduct workshop, where we tell you how you can use your household waste to make fashionable stuff and educate people on sustainable fashion and green lifestyle in India. OMI also make upcycled products.

Oh My India was started as a social group on Facebook on 10 May, 2010 . In a short span of time Oh My India has inspired many and evolved to be the change.

Green Gangtok is an eco friendly fashion boutique, first of its kind in Sikkim. The boutique houses an array of exciting fashionable green choices in apparels, accessories and aretefacts.The products are natural, upcycled and as well as sustainable and fair. Green Gangtok highlight designers who are pushing the envelope in eco-friendly design without compromising their vision and aesthetic. The boutique is also committed to the promotion of hand skills, self-expression and craftsmanship, combining a sense of social purpose and the spirit of collective creativity.

Q- How did you come upon or what made you take up environmental issues as your projects or causes?

I have been brought up in hills in a lush green environment with panoramic view of breath taking Kanchendzonga and I have always been used to a green lifestyle since childhood. So green living was always a part of my life. When I came to Bangalore, ten years back it was green (literally) but over past few years it has turned grey, so I felt it is high time we must do something before it turns black. And OMI was a way out , a green initiative to create awareness. Today OMI has traveled beyond Bangalore, changing lives for betterment and inspiring many.

Q6/ What has been the response to OMI and Green Gangtok from the people in general?

It has been a very rewarding experience. It is nice to receive emails and phone calls from people world wide and sometimes celebrities too expressing their love and interest for OMI.

Q7/ Did you face any setbacks while starting up Green Gangtok? What has been the experience like till date?

Green Gangtok is a new venture and hardly six months old. It is too early to comment on it but yes so far it has been a wonderful experience. I get to learn a lot from the customers feedback. It is a new concept to them. Many do not know what is eco-friendly boutique? So, a venture like Green Gangtok also educates and create awareness about green lifestyle.

Q8/ At present Green Gangtok is in Sikkim while you are based in Bangalore. So how do you manage it? Any plans of expanding the chain of boutiques?

Yes, it is tough but not impossible. I travel often to and fro too. Dad takes care of Green Gangtok sometimes or else my small brother is always there to look after. Thanks to facebook, makes my life easier, 90% of communication and transaction happens online, so I take care of it.

Q9/ Any more future projects from OMI and Green Gangtok?

Yes, we do have several interesting plans for OMI. We want more youth to be a part of the green initiative from different parts of India. So, we have plans to travel and conduct sustainable workshops in different places. We will also be frequently updating our weblog www.ohmyindia.co.nr with news and information on green lifestyle. It will also be a great learning source of DIY ideas where people can learn the craft of making fashionable stuffs out of household waste.

As far as Green Gangtok is concerned we are planning to open up e-store, so that people from North East can buy green products staying at home with just a click.

Q10,/ Coming back to writing, you have done a brilliant job for Midday ( from a sting operation to articles on serious issues). please tell us a little about your experience as a writer. Any incident, personality or story that you covered that left quite an impression on your mind?

Yes, I was suppose to do an interview with Laxmi Narayan Tripathi (Hijra Guru). We had a few telephonic conversation but unfortunately I could not do the interview as I left the publication. However, it was so nice to discover how humble and polite she was. Sometimes, it just takes few minutes to make you understand many things in life and my short conversations with her was one. In future I would love to do an interview with her and ask many unanswered questions.

Q12/ Multitasking has been very much a part of your life as you play multiple roles through out the day- Designer, writer , entrepreneur, activist? How do you slip on and off from each so easily ?

If you do things you love and passionate about, it comes naturally to you. It has become a part of my life. I take care of my work, cook , do all the household chores, meet up with friends, coffee and conversation, call my parents and do many other things. It just flows, I think you can’t plan it, you just do it when you feel like and this is one of the perk when you work for yourself.

Q13/please share with us your secret of effective time management.

Shh…come closer, secret is there is no secret to effective time management. Each individual has different lifestyle, so there is no formula to it. You have to build your own way out . All I can say is do things you want and don’t waste your time doing things you don’t want to.

Q14/Any message to our readers?

Life is beautiful! If you do not agree , look in the mirror and ask why? Listen to what the person in the mirror has to say. Now close your eyes and ask thyself why did that person in the mirror said life is not beautiful and try to listen to your heart. There will be an answer to your question.

Q15 / And finally , we would like to thank you for your precious time, but before taking leave could you please share a few fashion/lifestyle tips with us keeping the christmas season and winters in mind.

This festive season, try to make handmade gifts for your loved ones but take extra care to make it special. If time is the problem there are many online stores where you can get up-cycled gifts. Use ecofriendly products to decorate your house and do not go OTT when it comes to decor. For example you can use bees wax candle for a change instead of regular parrafin wax.

Layering is in when it comes to fashion for both sexes. Accessories like beret, muffler and scarves are back in use. Try to go for checks and plaids they have made a come back.

The Transdedu-decoder was almost complete. This was going to be PMS’ s one of the much needed early boost to his career. PMS not to be confused with Post menopausal syndrome was the tech and maths whiz who was buzzing all over the web world, but like all ambitious people, aimed now, for bigger things. But again as all big things , in order to become bigger , starts small, so this supposedly small quickie invention of the transdedu-coding technology by our dear protagonist as a precursor to better things ahead. It did not need much tinkering and was just a clever combination of the already prevalent technology of predictive text, voice sensor, which he tweaked it a bit to add the auto grammar corrector and mood sensor – and voila – out rolled the transdedu-coder. Well, almost! He was going to put it for trial today and I on behalf of our e zine was specially invited to witness the marvel as a friend cum journalist.

But before that, let me tell you a little bit about the transdedu-coder. It’s a simple technology, which when refined will be incorporated into computers, mobile phones etc. which, in turn will enable the user ‘s voice command to be translated into written text . Well I know such technology already exist, but this is different because of its advanced application. The mood or emotion sensor of the technology will not only translate the voice into text, but will also correct the grammar and sense the mood of the speaker and punctuate it accordingly. In other words it will correct your grammar, sense your tone and also make sense of your messed up pronunciation. So by uttering just a few word , you can have your proper English sentence.

Coming back to the job at hand, PMS just finished giving the finishing touches and throwing a careless grin at me, asked me, “ready?”

“Of course, whenever you are”

He was about to test it in his laptop, specially programmed for the trial. He switched it on, shutting his eyes in a silent prayer for a brief moment, spoke on to the microphone

“ I met the chief”

Ah! That was a facebook status of his a few months back, I remembered.

We looked eagerly at the monitor as the words slowly appeared.

“I made the chief”

I giggled while he gave a short laugh. ( I think we both were imagining the chief’s reaction at those words )

He tried again, pausing a bit longer in between the words as if he was giving some time to it to comprehend.

“I mate the chief” the screen flashed much to my amusement.

He was visibly upset now and barked at the machine , “I MET THE CHIEF”. Even before the words came, I knew that it would go wrong.

The transdedu-coder failed to catch the word MET yet again but didn’t fail to catch the shift in the emotion.

“I AM MAD AT THE CHIEF” filtered onto the screen.

“Here, let me try” Before he became madder, I volunteered.

I slowly and clearly spoke the same words into the microphone, stressing the word ‘met’ a little more than I intended.

It came as “I meet the chief” I shrugged while he snorted behind my back. Well , at least the damn thing had got the verb correct if not the tense.

“Maybe if I tried again…” I said decisively as I repositioned myself in front of his laptop.

The words took a little longer to pour in.

I almost fell of my chair as I read the latest deduction-“ I am maid to the chief” while PMS laughed his head off.

“See , I think you need to work on it “ I said a little bit irritated.

He immediately sobered down and gave an exasperated sigh.

“ I don’t know why it is turning out like this. I had taken care to deal with the minutest details…Well let me give one last try”

“I. Met. The .Chief.” he hissed.

The screen went blank and then for a brief moment the words , “I melt the thief” appeared before going blank again. But after that there was a beep and an error message flashed .

“ Your programme has shut down due to a grave error . Please abort the program”

“ Sigh! You are wrong. I don’t need to work on it. I need to stop working on it” he spoke slowly.

I felt bad. Poor guy, he had really worked hard on it..

“maybe you just need to ..” I tried to comfort him, but he cut me short mid sentence.

“Assumptions and deduction had never worked in a relationship, so why would it work out here?” He replied with a smile. And I knew he wasn’t defeated.

“But the irony is that it is the same assumptions and deduction, which keep us going…”

Well well , did he succeed ? For that we have to wait for a few months more…

25^th, 26^th, 27^th, 28^th ,29^th, 30^th, 31^st and the count down ends in a glorious new year’s day. Eight days of fun and revelry leading to the big bang new year’s welcome party or seven days of peace, quiet, blissuful relaxation with your loved one and welcoming the New Year in a quiet way?  Which one is your preference? Whatever be your choice, India has it all for you. Its geographical location ensures that you have the best of all holiday spots- Sea and sunshine, Fire and Ice, Or the Serenity of the Sand dunes. You have it all and if more than nature, its history or spirituality that attracts you then, we have the capital city Delhi  which turns a shade more beautiful during winters or the temple town of Madurai down South.  Today we have attempted to bring before you our Fried Eye’s choice of top three winter destination of India. We made the choices based on the factors of –scenic beauty, popularity, tourist friendly facilities, the economic feasibility as well as the accessibility of the spot. Of course while giving the Fried Eye verdict; we took care to choose one each from the different terrains. We hope the brief notes along with the pictures will help you in forming an opinion , which in turn will prove decisive when you plan for your holiday next.

Manali-

Even If Alps have been glorified as one of the most beautiful mountain ranges of the world; nothing can beat the Himalayas in sheer magnificence combined with its pristine beauty.  Manali sitting pretty in the foothills of the lower Himalayas in Himachal Pradesh, reinforced itself as India’s most popular hill station after Srinagar had to relinquish its top position because of terrorism. Though there are other Hill stations dotting the entire lower Himalayas as in Shimla, Nainital, Sikkim, right upto Arunachal Pradesh which are also sought after by the tourists, Manali ranks high in our eyes because of the tourist friendly features and the superior infrastructure. For once, the state tourism department has done a lovely job of promoting tourism in its state by catering directly to the needs and comforts of the tourists. It will be unfair if we do not mention the role of the local people who go out of their way to make the visitors welcome and comfortable. This is one state that has utilized the potential of tourism to its fullest and with greatest results.

Coming back to Manali, its ancient history dates back to the times of Manu, where it is said that the sage Manu , had stepped from his ark to recreate human race after the great deluge.  It falls under the administration of Kullu valley and is situated by the banks of the river Beas in the lesser Himalayas with an altitude of around 6000ft on average. But lets leave the statistics and demographics and proceed directly to what is in store for the average tourist.

Picturesque Town-  Beauty cannot be measured hence we cannot quantify it but we can just say that you will find beauty of the highest degree in the scenic surroundings. Even the teeming tourist population cannot mar the appearance of the place . Everything appears to be picture perfect- the hotels, quaint cottages, the apple orchards, the river and its rocky, pebbly bank, the distant mountains, snow covered peak- everything!

Places to visit- Manali has a piece of everything from adventure tourism in Solang valley and Rohtang pass comprising of para gliding, skiing, tobogganing , mountain biking ad zorbing, river crossing, to the spiritual as in the Gurudwara in Manikaran, Hadimba temple and the monasteries. If spending a quiet time is your cup of tea, then you can laze in the sunshine with a book in hand by the river Beas or just gaze at clouds playing with the snow peaks. This is also one of the few places in India where you will find snow through out the year (Rohtang Pass in summers) and you have almost ninety percent chances of experiencing snowfall from the late autumn to the winters.

If palaces and royalty are what that excites you then you can always enjoy being treated like one in the Nagar Castle which has been converted into a heritage hotel with very much economical room rates.

Shopping- Evenings can be enjoyed with shopping for the blankets and woolens and strolling in the bright colorful markets.  The goods are slightly pricey but if you haggle well, then you may get a good bargain.

Food- As it is frequented by many foreign tourists, due to the charm and attraction of the Manali Leh highway drive, you will come across a variety of Indian and foreign cuisines as in Italian, French, Lebanese etc etc. Trout is famous in Manali and so is Maggi in the Rohtang pass and nothing can warm you up as like a cup of hot tea and a bowl of steaming hot maggi.

Accommodation- Accommodation is not a concern at all with hotels, suites, villas and cottages of all price ranges available and since tourism is the primary source of income, you will get hotels in competitive rates. There are HPTDC hotels and cottages at affordable price with great services. Sightseeing and conveyance can be arranged easily. In fact you can just land there unannounced and still have a stay without any hiccups. For the compulsively organized person, you can book, reserve and plan your whole travel package singlehandedly from your own home, to the minutest of detail. Everything is there in the internet to see and book, right from the Bus tickets from Delhi/Chandigarh/ Shimla or the Railway reservation to the nearest railhead Joginder Nagar or even Bhuntur , the airport in Kullu. The road leading to Manali from Delhi via Chandigarh is an absolute delight and where the fun starts from Bilaspur itself

Though Manali is an all weather destination, winter is best if you would like to experience snowfall and roll and frolic in the snow. Building a snowman and having a snowball fight doesn’t even cost you any money.

Hope the brief note along with the pictures could help you decide on it, but if you are still in a fix about the place you would like to spend this holidays, then here is our second in the list

Goa:-

A place with a life of its own- vibrant, energetic and colorful. Their beach, culture, architecture and the way of life has acquired quite a fan following all over the world resulting in it becoming an international tourist hub which sees high influx of both international and domestic visitors every year. Tourism has propelled Goa on an upward drive as far as quality of life and prosperity of the population is concerned and that which can be experienced by the infrastructure and amenities available.

Pic credit - Noyon Jyoti Parasara

Goa is primarily divided for tourism purpose into South Goa, North Goa and Panajim, its capital city and it is to be noted that each of the three has a distinctly different feel from the others.  So you cannot just opt for a single zone to get a hang of the whole. North Goa has the most populous beaches like Calangute and Anjuna beaches famous for its flea market and hippies or the Baga beach and its night clubs, the quieter Candolim and Sinquerium or the rocky Vagator beach- the best thing about them being  its accessibility . It also has other sightseeing attractions like the Fort Aguada a seaside fort, Donna Paola , a seafront memorial  and some great night clubs. The countryside up in the North is a beautiful place to just drive away aimlessly finally stopping at one of the many beaches to enjoy watching the waves at play.

While North Goa is the common man’s play ground, South Goa is more elitist and is the Goa that is projected in the movies with white sands and deep blue sea. Most of the beaches over there in South Goa are private properties of Luxury resorts and hotels and hence less crowded and well maintained. The catch lies in getting admitted to the resorts which of course doesn’t remain a catch if you can shell out big money. If you love the quiet and peace of surroundings alone, then South Goa is more your place with just the company of a hammock and a book . Some of the famous beaches of South Goa are Colva, Bogamalo, Majorda , Palolem and Varca with Colva being the largest and popular beach in South Goa.

Central Goa or Panajim offers you some great architecture in Bom Jesus chapel , a world heritage site where the remains of St. Francis are still displayed. You can also visit some old heritage Portuguese houses which gives us a beautiful insight on their way of living and culture

Boat cruise in the Mandovi River is a prime attraction of Goa as is water sports in the beaches. Nightlife is exciting with the hip crowd at the pubs and clubs and if you can maintain your sanity and balance with the right mix of spirits, then Goa is indeed a fun place to be in. The people are friendly and helpful though facilities may not come cheap. Shopping is not a wise option unless and until you are shopping for souvenirs from the flea market. Feni is a worth buying for its uniqueness but it takes time to build a taste for it. The sea food there is amazing and food tastes great even if taken from those shack-stalls.

Getting around the place is easy with buses and ferry transporting you across Goa. You can hire two wheelers and cab for self driving easily without coughing out much money as deposit nor is the paperwork elaborate.

Accommodation comes in all ranges and also in budget packages. Not all hotels near the beach have a beach front, so inquire about that when you book for the hotel room. Goa tourism hotels in Colva and Calangute are sea facing and just in the beach, if you would like to enjoy the view of the sea and the sound of the waves at all times. Goa is accessible by all means of transport as is its information over the internet. Everything can be planned to the last of the details with a few clicks.

Christmas is a major festival in Goa and is just the right time to visit the place. Though the place will be crowded to the brim, but it further makes the place more gay and colorful. The weather will be just the right one to visit and the air totally festive and cheerful.

Now If the snow and the sea failed to impress you then I am sure, this place will be more your kind.

Jaisalmer- The city of the Sonar Kella or the Golden Fort.

Though Jaipur, Udaipur, Jodhpur and Mount Abu are more frequented by tourists, it is Jaisalmer in the far west of Rajasthan which has more of the raw and stark beauty that deserts are famous for. The town Jaisalmer is situated a bit on the higher ground and the first thing that strikes you is that the buildings are all uniformly golden in color due to the sandstone. The Fort crowns the city and is a living fort which means that people still reside inside the fort. In fact a percentage of the Bhatti Rajput population has been living there since ages and the fort itself is a bee hive of day to day activit giving you the impression that you have stepped inside a time machine and travelled to those medieval times. The main royal residence is an example of opulence and grandeur and you can just shut your eyes and soak in the feeling of what it must have been during those days of Rajas and Maharajas. Well they still have their royalty in the present descendent Brijraj Singh who carries out a lot of the welfare work for the people over there.

The town also boasts of some fine example of architecture in the Havelis that the old Jain Merchant families had constructed as their residence. Examples of which are Nathmalji ki haveli, Patwan ki haveli. There are also the Jain temples with their intricate carvings to keep you captivated if you are interested in sculptures and architecture. The museum houses some treasures of the past and gives you a close glimpse of the Rajputs and their customs, traditions and way of life.

Though the town’s usp lies in  its historical connection and architecture, a few kms into the heart of the desert gives you a completely different scenario to both experience and enjoy. The Sam sand dunes and the khuri dunes are the famous and popular camping sites where you can enjoy  being in the Thar Desert and experience the feeling of being lost in the vastness.  The sand dunes are the main seat of activities as in camel rides, desert safari in camel drawn carts, the gypsies and their kalbelia dancers around the bonfire, a simple yet tasty meal of the desert prepared from sangri a vegetable indigenous to that area, a night in the mud cottages or the tents , comfortable and with all modern amenities- All these experiences are simply out of the world. There is endless space to just wander aimlessly. Sunsets and sunrise are magnificent and winter is the perfect time to be there. They also have the desert festival during January and February for which people from all over the world turn up in the town.

The Indo Pak border is not far away from Jaisalmer and the road through the dunes lead straight to the frontier.

Rajasthan is a bit costlier than the other states but the camping package in the dunes are economical.  The National highway services the state and the famous Palace of Wheels has a stop over there but POW is not the only train that runs to Jaisalmer . You can fly into Jodhpur and drive to Jaisalmer as an alternative. It’s better to have a guide in the main town for sightseeing or else you will be whirring about confused. Accommodation is not as remarkable as in Manali or Goa in terms of economic feasibility, but cheaper accommodation is available if you search well.

Shopping for clothes and curios is a good idea but do not forget to bargain while searching for good deals.

Dal bati chorma is the local delicacy while sangria ki sabzi is unique in taste.

Nights in the desert are cold, so you should be well prepared with warm clothing.

Rajasthan is again another state that takes their tourism seriously and hence is a traveler’s delight.

We hope that by now, one of our three top destinations has surely made you sit up and ponder a moment about spending some time there with your dear ones.  This winter and yearend, all we want is you to have some great moments and memories for a lifetime.

Joshish, Betukay,Maujood, Manaazil, Ird Gird… Do they sound familiar to you or do they seem like words lifted straight from a beautiful verse? If they sound familiar, then obviously you have heard of Joshish , the experimental/progressive rock band from Bhopal, now based in Mumbai who shot into the limelight of the Indian Rock Music scenario with MTV Rock on, where they were featured as one of the top ten Indi rock bands . Those who haven’t heard of them till date , I strongly recommend checking them out in My Space and You tube starting with their first official release of 2007- Ho Subah till the current Betukay which has already begun to create waves globally for its  uniqueness

What  appears to be their USP as observed from a mini survey that we had conducted among a section of our readers were the strong vocals and guitar solos , supported aptly by the riffs and meaningful lyrics combined with a raw energy.

Fried Eye had the opportunity to chat up with their frontman  cum guitarist cum lyricist Sameer Rahat who spoke at length about their struggle, their aspirations and their music. He was never short of words or for that matter of humour and enthusiasm either. No wonder they never ran short of words for their songs and not just Betukay words but rather deep and meaningful ones with an underlying message for the people.  Sameer does seem to have an ear for the right words as can be seen from the choice of titles (He being responsible for the lyrics- “Yes, lyrics are totally my zone.” Though a regular creative session is usually an unplanned one and a team work, but lyrics is something that is exclusively for Sameer) . From Joshish to Betukay, Moujood, Manazil  and their next on the pipeline Ird Gird every title had been chosen with care. Hence the first question that was thrown at them was precisely about the name of the Band- Joshish.  Sameer patiently explained how much thought had gone into the naming of the band as they wanted an unique name that could convey the essence of their music and ‘something which would be exclusively found in google’ and he had come up with Joshish, a Arabian Persian word meaning passion, a crusade. Just like he had come up with Ird Gird, their upcoming album, which he said would be about the everyday perception of life -Things that just happened around you and how they affect you in different ways

Betukay, a song about self empowerment, is a different experimentation and a total deviation from what they had been playing till date. This is their third official release and they had released earlier Ho Subah and Still not too late. Ho Subah was an impressive debut, a mellow track focusing on Terrorism and Hope and was well received by their fans.

“ We have come a long way since Ho Subah , but for us it will always remain a special one “ said Sameer fondly remembering their first taste of success. Ho Subah though well received was comparatively underpromoted and hence it stayed confined to only a section of listeners. Fresh and new in the circuit back then , they were “more into making meaningful music rather than commercializing it” and were just happy to play good music and thrill their fans. After Still not too late, they decided to take a break from the recording studios and instead “decided to concentrate on self discovery and discovering what their music was”. They however  continued playing in the local college and festival circuit. But wherever they went they strictly stuck to their own compositions and so songs like Maujood and Manaazil became a rage over a period. The only time when they had to belt out Bollywood tracks instead of their own  was in MTV Rock On where their reluctance to do so always gave them  a different  aspect then the other bands  and their disinclination towards not playing their own songs was the top story throughout the season, but they still managed to stay among the top four despite their discomfiture.

Five years since they decided to create music together , they have managed to stay together through thick and thin, carrying forward their dream and passion – A journey which had seen many hardships , struggle, balancing acts and changes in line up of their band, finally settling down to the original line up of Sameer the lead vocalist and on bass guitars, Shwetang Shankar on the drums and Shatarchi Hundet  on the lead guitars and effects. – A journey which had made them shift base from  to Mumbai and one which had turned out to be a right move providing them with wider scope and opportunity .

“WE are still in a struggling phase” Sameer maintained.

Their humble origins from Bhopal was often met with skepticism, but in spite of all their odds, their focus and hard work paid off and Betukay was released. I could sense their focus when Sameer replied in the negative to my query of their highest point of their musical career.

“ We are still struggling and Our highest point is yet to come, which we hope to attain with Ird Gird if everything turns out well.”

Betukay which is an experimentation, is a door, a key to more promising things to come. Speaking of Betukay, I could sense the excitement at the other end of the line as Sameer spoke of global acceptance of Betukay. They have been featured in Big M and they also have been approached by a UK based magazine for an interview and promotion of Betukay.   What strikes you most in Betukay is the singularity of its sound and is quite different from what the listeners are accustomed to when they conjure up images of Indi Rock. “We want our music to be global in sound yet one which anyone can relate to.” I agreed with him when he said that Rock music catered to only a niche audience in India, and he wished with all his heart for it to be far reaching.

“I want that our music should reach every man. Even the autowallahs” And that is the reason they had stuck to hindi as their medium while experimenting with the genre. He confessed of facing some cynicism from some quarters for  Betukay for its atypical  feel  but finally what mattered was that they had taken the long planned first step towards their vision of mass acceptance which they are hoping from Ird Gird next year. I made a mental note to myself to follow it up when it released next year. Ho Subah had certainly made a mark on my mind and I certainly was going to watch out for more.

On a lighter note I asked him which song or songs would he recommend to a first time listener . He paused only for a few seconds before replying Maujood and Betukay-Betukay for the ”technical stuff” he added. So now you know which one to head for if you are a first time listener of Joshish. Maujood though still unreleased, has been played many times onstage and is one of the popular numbers of the band.  The words stage show suddenly reminded me how their fans had applauded their live acts as an audio visual treat and I decided to worm out the secret of their on stage success.

“Humour ! Plenty of Stupid Humour!’ and I couldn’t refrain myself from chuckling out aloud. Not everyday did you get a man who could laugh at himself. “ We chat and interact a lot with our fans between performances, crack jokes…  “ and also keep the atmosphere charged probably.

Ironically I decided to ask him about a somewhat serious matter just when we were warming up to the conversation. On inquiring what positive change he would like to see at present if one compared the Indian rock music scenario progressively from 1960s, he replied  “Media has been one positive change ” Media’s evolution as a music friendly entity promoting upcoming talents through magazines, television and online magazines has been like a breath of fresh air  to the Indian music scenario .

The one positive change that he would like to see now is the involvement of Bollywood in propagating Rock music among the masses which he said is sadly lacking and is one area with immense potential for mass propagation. But Bollywood has so far managed to stay away from the Indian Rock musicians.

Black Friday was an exception, but again that was Indian Ocean, an already established band. More over what they would really like to see about Rock music in movies is not as a situational music or something with a filmy touch, but rather rock music just for its entire sake which is not based on demands of the Director of the movie.  And by that same logic, for real rock music, it would have to be composed by real rock musicians.

“And so they should in that manner give a chance to the upcoming bands. In fact they should try us too.”  he added cheekily.  If confidence, hard work and focus is a path to success, then they surely are on the right track.  Finally it was time to wind up the interview and I asked him if there was any message for the readers and fans from them. And yes , he did have a message! He had one special requests for his fans, over and above the promise to give the best ,and that was to download legally the songs which were available at a minimal cost instead of downloading them illegally and encouraging piracy . After all one needs money to sustain and create good music too. Agreed Sameer! Creativity does need money to sustain.

Dear Mr Bush,

Greetings from Fried eye (which I am sure you haven’t heard of) but that is not the reason I write for today. Self promotion is currently not at the top of my list of priorities. Instead I actually wanted to rake up the past a bit. Yes Sir, I know it is bad manners to dig up buried issues but I could not refrain myself from venting out my two cents , after I suddenly remembered a little vaguely though, your somewhat callous comments on India’s role in the current Global Food crisis scenario.

However disputed it might be but it is still said that Louise Marie Antoinette created history and brought a revolution with her disastrous remark of –  Let them have cakes.”

Though your comment did not have such an effect , but it did ruffle a few feathers here and also hurt the sentiments of the so called ‘middle class’ people that you had alluded to in your remark. But we are a very forgiving nation and after some mild attempts at protest and explanations, we let the matter be, after all as they say no body messes with the big daddy of world politics.

But as I was working on this issue of our e-zine which is incidentally dedicated to food, I came upon some very encouraging facts about our country, that I felt the need to address the issue again, just for your information and not at all for an action.

But before that. let me jog your memory a bit in case you have forgotten what exactly had you said that has made this woman write a letter to you. So Here is what you said( ad verbatim)-

“ So, for example, just as an interesting thought for you, there are 350 million people in India who are classified as middle class. That’s bigger than America. Their middle class is larger than our entire population.”

“And when you start getting wealth, you start demanding better nutrition and better food, and so demand is high, and that causes the price to go up,”

Now I was impressed to see that you were aware of the powerful and progressive Middle class of India, but I was shocked to find  (what was that now? ) a resentment towards their demands for better nutrients?

Now why did you say that? If you had mentioned about wastage, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, instead hung my head in shame. Wastage is, I admit, a bit common in Indian households, especially during festivals and no, it is not a deliberate action, rather it can be attributed to our principles of Atithi Devo Bhava or the Guest is God. We do tend to go overboard while entertaining guests and apparently forget all logic regarding consumption and principles of mathematical applications.

If you had blamed the population explosion, then also it would have been excusable, though the fact remains that the same ‘middle class’ that you had accused, are the ones who are trying bring new changes and development in the country by attempting to create  awareness and starting many pro country pro society programs which includes among  the others, an awareness of population control. We had been trying our best to stick to the norm of the small happy, family since long. So you will hardly find a large family in an educated middle class house.

But your whole idea of prosperity , resulting in the increased demand of ‘better nutrients’ being the reason behind the insufficiency and  food crisis all over the world is preposterous to say the least.

Some of our politicians retorted by saying- Are we not entitled to ‘better nutrition’?

Though I do not normally endorse politicians, but for once I agree with them. I simply cannot understand the logic behind your statement. If a person switches from say- a guava to an apple (as it is a case of better nutrients) or to cottage cheese from brinjal, how does it decrease the supply to another person? After all its just a switch. Maybe the other person who is not self sufficient has to make do with the guava or brinjal, but how does it deprive the other person wholly ?

That brings us to the matter of exports. Yes Sir, its time I present before you some very heartening facts about India and its agricultural scenario.

Did you know that we are one of the leading producers and exporters of rice in the world? Why rice alone? We are in fact one of the leading exporters of many crops and grains. A third world country and an exporter ! – you must be thinking so, right? Oh yes, till the 1960s we were stuck deep in the quagmire of poverty – blame some on the foreign rule, a bit by lagging behind during the industrial revolution and the rest on the natural disasters that almost suck the life out of us. After independence it has been hell of an uphill task reaching a respectable status. Some had even predicted that we wouldn’t even last till the seventies, but we did Mr. Bush. With the help of the green revolution, some hybrid crops (bless the scientists) our crops started showing a surplus and by the eighties we had started exporting full fledged.  Of course there has been some criticism of the green revolution too but that is only natural. Every action has an equal amount of criticism. In few years we had advanced so much that we had even started producing crops in un-arable land as in Ladakh and Rajasthan with technology and common sense.  Speaking of common sense reminds me, did you know that in Arunachal Pradesh paddy farming and fish farming go hand in hand?  Interesting isn’t it, but that is an example of our indigenous intellect at work. Of course we do have our floods, drought, the Andhra farmers. Yes Sir, very unfortunate and we are trying to cope with loss in our own way which does not include blaming other countries which are trying to address their own issues on obesity and lifestyle.

If it is our problem, then it is OUR problem; we blame none for it.

That reminds me , you had blamed the middle class for high consumption of food resulting in lesser exports . Yes, I agree the exports have come down, but I will come back to this a little later. Instead let me brag a bit about some of our traditions and principles.

Most of our festivals and ceremonies require us to feed the needy and poor. So it is a common sight here of people giving away food to the poor in charity, in religious places every day. Gurudwaras have a common langar or kitchen where they feed any one –rich or poor who comes during the meal times- no questions asked. We try to ensure over here that no one goes hungry even for a day.

I would also like to tell about Akshay Patra foundation an initiative whose mission is to eradicate hunger. Noble isn’t it? There vision tells us all- No child in India shall be deprived of education because of hunger.” .They have taken initiative to start the mid day meal in schools and also have been involved in providing free lunch to the ostracized widows in Benaras to name a few of their commendable works. You see we believe in the logic of feeding our countrymen first followed by the rest of our fellow human beings which as you say might have caused in lowering of the exports from our country. But there in lies our priority as opposed to the prerogatives of maybe other countries.  For us our priority lies in providing the basic need of food to our fellow men without being dependent on others while maybe for you, the priority lies in diverting crops to produce bio fuels rather than…

Opinions differ, you see Mr.Bush and so I will refrain myself from commenting on your affairs (unlike you), but I would certainly like to request you to pause a bit and think before making any earth shattering and heart breaking remarks in a public platform.

Thank You for the patient hearing and a very good day to you

Mani padma

From Fried Eye

How wise and knowledgeable reviewers sound when they speak, don’t they? Some with a frown, while others  with a very benevolent smile, examining, scrutinizing, analyzing. Yes, we find them everywhere-Movie Critic, Food critic, music reviewer and many more. And then there are some cruel versions of reviewer like the Job interviewer, examiner, externals- Sigh! does remind of a bitter feeling in the mouth, don’t they? But how about reviewing the reviewer  for a change, especially by some one who has negligible amount of knowledge on the same? Sounds crazy? Weird? Fun?Well, I did just that and it was fun , more because the reviewer I reviewed was none other than my dear friend and our very own Food editor cum Recipe Reviewer cum Food critic cum  imaginative chef, one of our main attractions in FE , Sanjeeta ( contributes features as Sanzeeta) ! I am sure you will remember her the one who brought before you some amazingly brilliant culinary compositions like the Baby Fried Eye and Dusto Suwali . I was delighted to watch her at work over a huge sumptuous lunch of Naga thaali, Assamese thaali and Manipuri thaali in Delhi Haat. Strangely , I remember less about the thaalis and more of her antics. The thaalis were no doubt very good, with the Naga Thali topping my rating on taste and presentations, way ,way over the other  two, but I will repeat that Sanjeeta was a delight to watch. If you are thinking I sold my writer’s soul for a thaali and few childhood memories, then I plead not guilty and in my defense I will just recapitulate the day , so as to describe her modus operandi with no frills and cheap thrills ( that was a joke) and also promise not to impose my views and opinions on you, rather I will let you form your own opinion at the end of the write up.

I was late by quite a few minutes for our luncheon date, but she did not seem to notice it, instead I noticed that she had already lodged herself in theAssamstall with a big sign of WIP (work in progress). I really wasn’t aware that she meant business when she had invited me for a power lunch and while I reached there armed with my kid, she was already at work with her KIT – digicam, pen, notepad, a huge bag.

the menu

After the initial customary hugs and squeals that we females are so infamous for, I settled in. And then my jaw dropped to see that she had already ordered a full meal of an Assamese thaali and maas tenga and was at that precise moment directing the waiter to set the dishes right, adjust the garden umbrella while she went click! click !click ! amidst her constant chatter about the ingredients, tips on proper lighting and presentation, variations of the dishes etc etc. Diners at the other tables looked at us in astonishment much to my embarrassment, but Super chef was completely oblivious to all and was emerged in her  world of food , photography and cuisines. The food looked inviting and tempting but I had to wait patiently for the perfectionist to finish her notes before digging into the goodies. Finally she was done and the food as you might say was history within minutes.

The assamese thaali acted like an appetizer and we both made our way towards the naga stall. I remember liking what I smelled over there. She instantly hunched over the menu as she tried to analyse it through their descriptions ,while I continued sniffing like a pomerian. We again opted for the Naga thaali  (Here I would like to add that thaali ,I believe is a reflection of a particular cuisine) along with akhuni and chutney. Again I had to practice some agonizing moments of self control as she tried to capture the perfect shot.- the angle, lights, porcelain . Presentation is as important as the taste ,she had said, as I gritted my teeth and smiled through. Though she was quite in synch with assamese cuisine , Naga cuisine was new for her and like a kid with a new toy, she chewed, mulled, rolled her tongue, inhaled,- trying to absorb the feel of the dish. The critic was at some serious work . I let her be while I followed the rule of the movie -Good , bad and ugly – “when you have to eat… Eat. Don’t talk.” (when you have to shoot… Shoot, Don’t talk) But I think Sanjeeta hadn’t heard that dialogue so she continued her  chatter , guessing the ingredients, commenting on the probable method of preparation, sometimes  exclaiming- perfect! While at other times – a dash! Just a dash…!. I managed to grunt my assent in between my glob glob, chomp chomp and slurpps! The naga thali was really awesome. And then it happened.

Suddenly she demanded to speak to the chef to offer her compliments and also learn in details about the ingredients and procedure. The chef was reluctant to see us but she persisted with a

-          Arre hum writers hai. Tumhare bare mein magazine mein likhega. Bulao na usse”

Can anybody dare not obey a leo, so there he was, meekly in front of her, but he was of little help. He could not enlighten her much as he let out that everything came packaged from the source. He just had to mix and fry. So much for freshness! But if you don’t fuss over the “freshness“  bit , the naga thaali was a complete delight, which I crave every time I hit the gym.

The Venue

Satiated completely by the great meal ,I had by then became aware of the goodies on display in the haat and  my other feminine instinct of shopping  threatened  to take over, but not Sanjeeta. Enthusiastically she zoomed in on the Manipur Stall. I just managed to huff and puff after her and again followed the same process of click and some chats with the manager and chef. While I became groggy with overeating, she pranced about energetically with her object of affection- Food! I did not mind the delay this time but finally the time came to tackle the Manipuri thaali too. I remember finishing it somehow. I am sure if I hadn’t looked so dazed and green, she would have dragged me onto the Meghalaya and Arunachal stalls too, but matching her passion, energy and dedication was too much for me.

Phew! Reviewing a reviewer is hard and even more so if she is a perfectionist.

Well that was just a glimpse of how the Food Editor of Fried Eye worked on field, but if you want to know more about how her mind works or the efforts she puts in to bring before you, the tasty recipes every fortnight,, please read this which is ad verbatim of one of her  mails in a group discussion.

• I have discussed with Chief regarding the diversifying in food contributions like selective recipes,-sometimes article on spices, or sometimes on one product like luci.. ( which i’m preparing right now).
• Yes I do keep stock ready for the next publication.. I myself had taken shots for clear visuals 4 times for the same recipe.. .because its not just writing; For recipes I guess the visual needs to be strong too.. So even though the food preparation is good and tastes good, It falls out if visuals are not clear and then the article goes for a fix.
• I discussed with PB on writing few food articles as ” picks for summers” Guess I’ll work more on this front and keep the recipe contribution by guests more. It’s diversity and fusion I m focusing on. and once a month on a popular food item from N-E. like  masor tenga. Once in a while something on conceptual dish to  represent FRIED EYE

Though Whatever I had described about our rendezvous was in fun or you can say business mixed with pleasure, its not always fun. Its not at all easy to maintain a food corner . To start a new section is a big responsibility and the degree of responsibility increases if it is something as challenging as ethnic cuisine and innovative recipes. Food corner of Fried Eye is a product of collective efforts of a group of dedicated foodies in the likes of Sanjeeta, The Chief Editor Pramathesh Borkotoky and our contributors and of course primarily the loyal readers of this column, without whose enthusiastic support , the team wouldn’t have made it so far.

Hope you will continue your love and support for us always, and make it possible for me to review Sanjeeta now and then over sumptuous lunches.

No matter how much we speak about how beautiful the world is, how amazing the people are who make our lives wonderful in their own special ways, life is not always about the bold and the beautiful. There are certain realities that we cannot shut our eyes to, even if we want to be in a state of denial.  No matter how much we love the rains and celebrate the monsoon, the bitter fact remains, that monsoon brings tears to many in Assam and every year we fight a lost war against the floods.

Spoiler alert- This article is not an example of creative post nor is this an awareness article in the exact sense as I am sure that floods in Assam is something that everyone is aware of. But how much are we aware of the magnitude of the problem? What has been done till now to contain the floods? How successful have we been so far in containing Nature’s fury? Do we have the answers? I do not promise an answer for all of the following, but I started my search for it and decided to share with you all that I came across in the hope that some one out there or some of you over there may just have an idea on what to do for its solution.

If you are still skeptical on why this space should be devoted to the above issue, just take a look at the following two tables to understand why it needs to be addressed at the earliest. The tables below provide only the salient points; there is a huge amount of data available over the net if any body is interested in going into further details.

Flood damages in India.

Average damage break up for Assam only

A summary of Flood damages in Assam

By the above comparative figures, it is quite apparent that Assam does contribute a major chunk to the flood statistics of India and though these were just the figures for a given section of time, the history of floods in the region goes long back and moves forward beyond 1994. If you take 1950, the year of the great earthquake of Assam as a sort of reference point then you will see that both the frequency and the intensity of floods has risen since then. Before 1950, floods were recorded in the years 1897, 1910, 1911, 1915 and 1931, mainly in the north banks of the Brahmaputra. After 1950, they were recorded in 1954,62,66,72,74,77,78,84,86,87,88,89,90,91,92,93,94,95,96,97, and the floods still continue to be a persistent problem of the region.

And I have not even counted the aftermath of flood – the diseases; the ensuing poverty etc. which if included will shoot up the figures of damages to an even unimaginable magnitude.

That brings us to few basic questions: Why does the Brahmaputra flood every year? How much does the environment contribute to its cause? How much are we to blame? If we do not understand that, we will never be able to proceed towards discussing solutions, let alone think about it.

Causes-

It may sound sarcastic but it does seem that the Brahmaputra valley and the river basin were designed uniquely by nature to be favored for over flooding. Add to it some man made causes, the situation became grimmer and grimmer with each passing day.

Geographically-the 1950 earth quake caused some irreversible changes to the natural course of the river, river bed and the Brahmaputra valley which rendered the areas of Dibrugarh, Dhemaji, Majuli( to name a few) flood prone.

The valley being surrounded by hills and plateaus, a limited width of the area and the abrupt flattening of the gradient have been mentioned as contributing factors. As if these are not reasons enough, the weak geological formations add to the cause of massive erosion, which further adds to the disastrous effects of flood. In addition, the problem of drainage congestion at the mouth of the basin during high floods does nothing to help; instead, it worsens the condition.

Reckless land acquisition, mining in the upper reaches and deforestation for urbanization (partly due to rise in population), encroachment, and infiltration across the borders are notable factors that add to flood woes –all of which are induced by men. A little bit of check in our activities would go a long way in the prevention of floods. I was surprised to read that sometimes embankment which are built to contain over flooding can become the inducing factor for a flood disaster.

However, the primary reason of flood remains the Monsoons. The heavy rains lasting from June to September creates havoc and massive destruction to the amount of crores each year. Just imagine where Assam would have been today without this yearly outlay of crores in the name of flood damages- damages which include both private and public properties?

Half a century of damages and what has been done till date? Not much if we see from the continuing trends or may be just half done.

In Twitter language you can say that the flood control measures in Assam have proven to be an EPIC FAIL.

Flood Control Measures

It is not that flood control measures haven’t been implemented. Then why is it that they have failed to successfully control the damages? Though both the Brahmaputra and its tributaries and the Barak river are together responsible for the damages, the Brahmaputra which is also the lifeline for the people of Assam- the same Brahmaputra becomes the sorrow of Assam during the monsoons. It’s not the first time in history that the river of a civilization has caused immense grief; examples that come to my mind are the Hwang Ho, the Mississippi and the Nile, but how is it that they have advanced so much in flood control measures while we lagged behind?

 The Aswan Dam over the Nile permanently solved the flood woes of the Nile in as long back as the seventies.  Though the extensive and the longest system of levees or dikes, which like the Titanic was touted as infallible, could not prevent the floods in Mississippi in 1993, but it’s said that they at least were successful in controlling damages – damages, which in the absence of those same levees, would have been massive. Miles of levees, water reservoir dams at numerous points and erosion control measures have almost tamed the menacing Hwang Ho River.  Another noteworthy example of intelligence of man overcoming nature’s fury is the Delta works project of Netherlands. This has been the most successful example till date in preventing floods.

 It is said that the topography of the Brahmaputra plain and other River basins should not be compared to each other because of its high seismic zone. It is this same seismic risk which prevents Dams from being installed as a reservoir in the Brahmaputra and its tributaries. Even levees seem to be a doubtful option. Still, let us see what are the measures that have been taken till date and the objectives achieved.

Here is a table that shows us the achievements of the Brahmaputra Flood control commission in the Brahmaputra valley from 1976 to 2003

For a period of twenty five years, it does not sound too impressive.  Till now, out of the total 31.6 lakh hectares only 16.18 lakh hectare area of the flood and erosion prone areas have been protected. Dams are controversial because of the seismic risk, economic hazard and the large scale displacement of people- something that does not go well with the environmentalist and activists.  In fact the Dam scene has been rife with controversies, which are more politically oriented rather than environment or socioeconomic driven.  The Pagladiya Dam that was approved by the centre for an amount of 540 crores in 2000 remains stalled till date because of many political oppositions and incompletion of the ground research work by the State Board. Dredging of riverbed has not been attempted much and the mainstay of our flood defense forces till date remains our embankments, which have become outdated and has been breached many times. A few flood prediction system been installed along the Brahmaputra but that is more a life saving means rather than going into the root of the cause. It can hardly prevent crop damage and damages to public utility works.

It has been agreed hugely that the effective management of floods may be possible as a long term solution with a reservoir in the upper catchment area and proper watershed management but that again brings us to a burning issue of building a dam in the Brahmaputra in China. But that will be dealt in another post in the future.

Certain Questions

So why have we been lagging behind?  In a country with the best brains and a state boasting of an IIT and a RRL, isn’t it an irony that we have not been able to contain the menace of floods? Frankly we do not have a clear transparent answer to this. No civic or government body has an answer to this. I tried searching for information on the cost, expenditure and funds utilized till date for flood management and what I came across is a mish mash of statistics which sort of opens a Pandora’s Box.

Flood control is a state’s subject and the state’s Irrigation or Water Resources Department takes care of flood control; the Centre has only an advisory, monitoring and funding role. In an Interview that I read in Toxics Alert an environment news bulletin, it was mentioned that over rated targets, poor maintenance and lack of accountability of the Irrigation bureaucracy are the major reasons behind the dismal performance. Here are some perfect examples of irrigation bureaucracy:

The failure of flood control in Assam has always resulted in a blame game between the state and the central government

-The Brahmaputra Board was constituted by the Centre on 1981 for planning and implementation of flood and erosion control measures in the Brahmaputra valley, but it became effectively functional only after 1997 when the Centre took an active interest in the flood problem of the North East. What happened in the interim years  1981-1997?

-Three master plans were prepared by the Brahmaputra Board as a centrally sponsored scheme which was put up before the Govt. of India for approval. Master plan I dealt with the river Brahmaputra while Masterplan part II concentrated on the Barak River. Both were approved by the Centre. An amount of 102 crore was provided to the Board in the tenth five year plan of which it was stated that 70 percent was utilized in salary and establishment related items. 70 percent for non-flood related expenditures? Isn’t that a huge ridiculous fraction? Either the fund provided was low or the Board overused it.

The schemes that were taken up by the Brahmaputra board back in 1999-2000 were

Harrange drainage development scheme

Pagladiya Dam project

New scheme for Majuli Island in Assam, Dihang

Dhola Hatighulli project

Immediate measures for protection of Majuli island from erosion and flood

Borbhaag drainage development scheme

Long term measures of protection of Majuli island from erosion and flood

Critical flood control and anti erosion measures

-The Harange project which was marked for a total expenditure of 10 crores and was later on increased up to 30 crores was supposed to be completed by 2005-2006 but was delayed inordinately and the last status that I detected was in 2010 where it was stated as 97 percent completed and a probability of completion by March 11. In spite of juggling the keywords , I still could not find out whether that project which was supposed to benefit 8300 families and an area of 11,000 hectare has been finally completed or not. Why the delay?

-The Pagladiya dam project, an ambitious project which was supposed to be started by 2001 and completed in 2007 has run into numerous controversies and road blocks and has been the worst hit of the lot in spite of an enormous fund allocation to the tune of over 540 crores . The Govt. of Assam has not been able to resettle the affected people yet, land hasn’t been acquiesced. In fact it hasn’t even completed a survey called Zirat survey (property assessment) ,after which only can the project proceed for implementation. The Centre blames the state government for non completion of the ground work. Does the State Govt have an answer to that?

The project for protection of Majuli  Island had a delayed start too. Does the Board have an answer as to why it was delayed?

-Earlier there had been accusation by the Centre that the State government often failed to utilize their allotted funds, while the State Govt. countered by saying that 100 percent of the funds should have been converted into grants rather than as loan. There was also a delay in release of funds in the year 2004-2005. Centre too took a long time in realizing and recognising the problem as a grave one. 

Hopefully…

But now funds have been approved generously to the amount of 250 crores for flood control measures in the Bahmaputra Valley and the North East region.  Newer schemes have been detailed out and some of the older projects are on their way to completion hopefully. As per wishes of the people of Assam, Centre has agreed for a 100 percent grant instead of the existing 90 percent grant and ten percent loan.

It’s better late than never.  Both the state and central Govt. has been jolted into action but still a lot remains desired. If the authorities are led to believe that they are accountable and answerable to us for the delays, sloppy work, or any kind of irregularities, then may be we will see some of the objectives achieved, a shape of solution may take form.

Hence it is time now to make them accountable. With the boon and power of social media with us and people friendly laws, it is very much possible to make each and every dime that we pay as taxes accountable . Only then can we hope for a permanent solution of floods in Assam in the near future.

Sources -

1. http://ne.aidindia.org/Newsletter/Dec04/wNewsletterDec2004_files/page0002.htm
2. http://www.neportal.org/northeastfiles/Assam/Economy/Report/03_04/chapVIII.asp
3. http://www.assamspider.com/resources/3090-Flood-Assam-Reason-Damage-Protection-Rain-history.aspx
4. http://www.balwois.com/balwois/administration/full_paper/ffp-1352.pdf
5. http://dhemaji.nic.in/flood/flood_history.htm
6. http://enews.toxicslink.org/interview-view.php?id=11
7. http://mowr.gov.in/writereaddata/linkimages/Brahmputra%20board7551972821.pdf
8. http://164.100.24.208/ls/committeeR/Agriculture/10th.html
9. http://164.100.24.208/ls/committeeR/water/5threport.pdf
10. http://www.vedanti.com/Assam_Mirror/Resources.htm

 Author’s note- While researching for this article, I realized that in spite of numerous fan pages being there in Facebook for saving the panda, tiger, girl child and even Brahmaputra from Dams, surprisingly there was not even a single fan page that endorsed the cause of floods. Hence Fried Eye has taken the initiative to create a awareness and a discussion forum on the issue of floods. We will be thankful if you kindly show your support to the cause of Save North East India from floods.

The other day in one of our brainstorming session of Fried Eye, while discussing about monsoons, Noyon Jyoti Parasar, our filmy guy, I mean the person in charge of our Movie Desk suddenly started lamenting about the Dirty Trousers Syndrome that is so very common during monsoons. Now ain’t that an irritating affair- the business of protecting your trousers from the muck, mud and slush while going about your business? How convenient it would have been if only one could avoid the roads, ground zero and just land in your destination directly? So we in Fried Eye formulated this means of avoiding the much taken muddy route and how with a little bit of determination, luck and imagination one can avoid getting your trousers from getting dirty without going to the hazardous extent of hiring a chopper. So here we go with our own fried means , I mean never tried means, but as they say, there is always a first time for everything.

1/ We will start with the most common and the easiest solution possible . Go Nude! Yes, you heard right. If you are not that comfortable with going in the buff, then you can always try body paint. As they say- prevention is better than cure. It is better to pack of your trouser and just avoid it altogether.

2/If that solution was a bit too daring, then another solution is to just change your dressing style and go for lungis , skirts etc.

3/Wear those large size polythene packets over your trousers and move about or better still,  why don’t you laminate your pants ?

4/ Not impressed? Okay, then how about couriering yourself to the destination if it is just one time journey to a mucky place?

5/ Not feasible? Then hire two men and start moving about in a palki/ doli. If that is extravagant for you, then hire at least one to carry you on his back to places.

6/That brings to my mind a better idea. How about befriending Spiderman/ Superman or even a vampire who takes the responsibility of helping you move about?

7/ Speaking of Spiderman, why don’t you just find some spiders and try to get bitten by them. You might acquire some super powers who knows? If not spiders then a vampire will do too with of course some permanent alterations

8/ You can join Hogwarts School of sorcery and use to your advantages stuff like the Nimbus 2000 broom, Buckbeak, port key or even the floo network.

9/ Why Hogwarts? If magic is your stuff, then simply ask Bhootnath for advise and predictions and just do the opposite of what he says.

10/ Alright if those were too fancy for you then here’s just the right thing for you, for at least one time safe passage to your bus stop or vehicle. But for that you have to make some mathematical calculations. Confused? You will understand once I explain the procedure.

step one- go to your boss’s room

step two- go near the open window farthest to your boss but one which is in the direction of your destination

step three- say or do something to piss him real bad and face your butt towards him

step four- Boss comes roaring fiercely from his seat and gives you a strong hard kick on your butt.

And voila ! Off you go flying out of the window towards your destination.

Just take care of the angles and height before hand and, of course, piss him off real, real, real, bad.

11/Still haven’t found your thing? Okay here’s another one. Join a circus and learn the art of walking on tall stilts, tightrope walking or walking on your hands (This is about protecting your trousers not the sleeves).

12/ You want something “real” and that is very common in our country. What more can be common than crime, here in India? So here’s a common advise-

Smuggle an elephant or a camel (as it will not be feasible to buy one, smuggling  will be easier) and then travel in style.

13/If you had corruption in your mind instead of crime, then go for a one month apprenticeship to a Neta or leader and learn the art of keeping your trousers clean because no matter how much they play dirty, their pants are always spotlessly clean. I am sure that will certainly help and if that can’t then nothing will !

The 1^st anniversary of marriage- He vowed never to leave her

2^nd – He threatened to leave her to teach her a lesson

3^rd- He really wanted to leave

4^th- He wondered why he was still there

5^th- he realized the reason- The kid.

6^th- He finally left.

And people smiled knowingly- Aha! seventh year itch

Prologue:
The kids of her mohalla were creating a ruckus. It was holi -the festival of colours. Colours-
How much they meant to her. She – whose life had only one colour now…

Violet-
“Doctor! Why is she turning Violet?” Her father screamed. Yes, this was what he said though she remembered nothing. She was just one hour old. After which it was a battle for both- her and her mother. It had been a difficult labour. She survived. Her mother didn’t. It was an omen. She always survived.

Indigo-
The Indigo Jackal. That story was their introduction. He had recited the story very impressively in the class. Kindergarten years. How blissful they were-full of innocence and hope of better things. They became friends. Indigo turned to pink. They became lovers- finally they became what they were meant to be. Man and wife.

Blue-
He was elated that he was going to finally see the land of Blue hills and the red river. Assam-His first posting in the paramilitary forces. But she was apprehensive. She had heard things about it. Of happy simple people who were not so happy anymore. Of blue hills that had turned red.

Green-
“Wear green.” Her mother in law had said with an authority that was difficult to challenge. “Green is the colour of fertility.” She had already messaged him the good news. He was speechless with joy. “I… am coming.” He had stammered but the green valley was not yet ready to let him go. Not yet.

Yellow-
The yellow of the turmeric looked becoming on her. There was also the glow of expectant
happiness. The goud bharai was going smoothly. Only he wasn’t there. But his letter was. He was deputed on a new mission after his promotion. Everything was perfect. The signs bade happy times ahead. Auspicious turmeric.

Orange-
She remembered the day well or rather the Orange sunset. She was gazing at it . It was
beautiful and then, she had the first sensations of pain. What followed was a blur. The hospital. The labour room. She wanted him there. But all she remembered in the haze was their first orange sunset together.

Red-
She saw blood spattered in his uniform. Red the colour of blood. Red the colour of death. She
hated everything. She hated him. She hated that State. She hated the baby. She hated life. But she survived. After all she was a survivor. She was a woman. She was meant to survive.

Epilogue:
Her colour was white now. The kids outside had left. She looked at the letter again. It was her daughter’s posting letter. She was assigned to serve in Assam. Fate! She hadn’t agreed initially but … now she was ready to make peace with fate. With everyone…

White – the colour of hope.

Footnote-

This is a set of seven fifty-fivers. A fifty-fiver (also called 55 Fiction) is a short composition that narrates a story using a maximum of fifty-five words. The colours of the spectrum- VIBGYOR – are used to structure the pieces in this series. The seven fifty fivers independently tell storries of various shades of womanhood; strung together, they tell the life story of a woman in the backdrop of Assam and insurgency.

In my recent visit to Guwahati, I visited Khorika twice! To get the flavours for all those praises made for those Assamese cuisines. Khorika is situated near Bora Service bus stand, in Guwahati, a few kms away from Guwahati railway station. Without savouring the local delicacies in this restaurant famed for traditional Assamese cuisines, a visit to Guwahati remains shallow. Being home after a gap of some years I was more inclined towards having mouth-watering Assamese food items than the usual and ubiquitous chicken tikkas and biriyanis (although I love them anytime).

My expectation was brimming as I entered the restaurant. The place, had two separate dining areas-window facing and without, and was brimming with people-yes so popular it was. We managed to grab a seat that had just been vacated. The staff was prompt and courteous. The tables were decently spaced, which meant you could have a soft conversation without the fear of the other table occupants over hearing it; clean, tidy and airy. The furniture was modern and the decor pleasing to the eye. Nothing flashy and of course fully air conditioned.

Now coming to the best part – the food, the menu had interesting offerings like duck/ pork and fish with bamboo shoots, khorikas of potato, paneer, fish, chicken, duck and pork which is akin to succulent juicy pieces roasted in a stick- from where the name khorika was taken up I guess. It had prawns and roasts as well as vegetarian fares of alu pitikas and khars. Even the plain rice had a choice of Aijong, Joha etc. depending on the grain you chose. But the most popular servings of the restaurant were the different thaalis priced economically in a range of Rs 120 to Rs 150. It had a choice of two vegetarian thaalis of potato and paneer and of course the regular fish/chicken and pork thaalis. I have tasted the Rajasthani thaali in Chowki Dhaani, and also sampled the Gujarati and the Punjabi thaalis but always drew a blank whenever I had wanted to have an Assamese thaali, each time wishing that if only… and that if only was answered in Khorika. I opted for a thaali – the fish thaali while my companion preferred pork thaali.

Foods were served in ethnic copper dishes. The thaali, be it vegetarian or non vegetarian had a base of plain rice with eight bowls serving alu pitika, yellow dal, black dal, khar, a seasonal vegetable, kheer or payash , a tenga jhool and a roasted tomato chutney. Then as per your request of the thaali, a separate serving of paneer or fish or… Like in my case I had opted for fish, so I was served fish curry along with fish khorika. The food was unbelievably tasty, done almost to perfection but some which I would like to specially mention are the khaar, alu pitika, and tomato chutney- simple dishes yet amazingly done. The khorikas were an experience. Altogether, it was satisfying to the core that I vowed to come back the next day and I did so. But the next day I decided to experience the duck with bamboo shoots and pork dry fry. The pork dry fry was comparatively low on fat and high on taste hence lighter on the stomach. The bamboo with duck was definitely tasty but as duck meat is quite high on fats, you might need someone to help you out to clean it up. As and after thought we had ordered yellow dal fry which is a Punjabi dish but that was a hit too. Over all the experience was a gourmet’s delight and a lovely new year and Christmas gift to myself. A definite try for whoever visits Assam and would love to experience Assamese cuisine. It makes me swell with pride at what we have to offer to the world. Kudos for the concept to the owner and master chef Mr Atul Lahkar. A big thumbs up!

I looked on as he was led away-shoved and pushed unceremoniously by the men in uniform. Six on one; some more were waiting near the vehicle. They were not taking any chances. My eyes betrayed none of the turmoil I felt. It hid all my emotions while I searched for some in his eyes. My gaze locked with his. What did I see in them? Desperation? Anger? Grief? Love? Lost love?

It was a cold wintry evening when love walked into my life. On that cold wintry evening he emerged out of the mist to walk into our lives. There is something magical about winter. All beautiful things seem to happen in winter- or is it?
I was and still am a small town girl. In fact it was such a small town, that the only distinguishing feature from a village was a college and of course the big health centre. Father was the Head of the Department of English in that college, where I had just joined for my graduation. Deuta, as I called my father was a very learned man, but his lack of ambition and his dedication to a single minded pursuit of educating young minds, led us to settle here, where we led a quiet and contented life along with my family of four consisting of my younger brother, my mother and Deuta. We were happy with our simple lifestyle of togetherness and delightful evenings spent in discussion of politics, literature and philosophy, until one evening, when everything became more beautiful…with his arrival.

He was rakishly handsome, strong, and lithe with intelligent eyes. We had an outhouse where we used to occasionally take up paying guests; mostly students of our college. He had given reference of my maternal cousin, who was doing his higher studies in Bangalore and had inquired about accommodation. My parents were only too glad to let out to this young man who seemed to belong from a cultured and educated family. He had introduced himself as a PhD student who was on a research project on the tribes that dwelt in the nearby hills.

From the first day itself he had endeared himself to our family. Deuta was impressed with his intellect. Mother was charmed with his sweet demeanor and polite ways. My younger brother, Bhaiti found in him the elder brother he never had, one who would tell him about fishing and biceps and what not, and I .. Well I found in him a welcome distraction from my mundane existence of chores and studies.
There was nothing untoward that I could notice about him initially. He was the perfect man. He used to be always turn out nicely, on time for meals. The morning used to begin with an easy banter about the weather and the garden. I remember my mother being very pleased when he would clear the tables and insist on taking the plates to the sink. After Deuta left, I used to go up to his room with Bhaiti to clean up. There hardly used to be any mess. I was initially shy to speak much but he seemed eager to strike up a conversation. There was an easy confidence in him that made conversations vibrant and lively. Afternoons began to be a bit dull without him, when he used to leave for his project work. Late afternoons he used to go with Bhaiti for a walk to the nearby army camp area. He and Bhaiti shared a common interest in the Indian army and both used to spend many such afternoons discussing and observing them.

After Deuta used to return home in the evening, discussions would liven up. He was well read and knew a lot. His brilliance shone through when he spoke and some of the views he presented were amazingly simple while some were radical to the point of being extreme. My peace loving Deuta used to counteract his views which usually brought a singular smiling response from him. “Well Khuradeo you are right in your own way. You are too honest but the world isn’t so and needs extreme measures sometimes. Each to his own, you can say.” And the debate would dissolve in to some other topic. There used to be so much vibrancy in the air. Oh yes! He had even enrolled himself as a member of the organizing committee of the literary convention that was to take place in 6 months time in our college, much to Deuta’s delight. Life couldn’t have been more interesting at that point.

I still remember the first conversation we had. It had been a week since he had arrived.
“Excuse me!” he asked me hesitantly, “I am sorry to bother you but the network in my cell phone is playing up… If you don’t mind…” he let the obvious question hang in the air.
“Of course”, I had said, eager to be of help. He had a hurried conversation in a soft voice and I had wondered with some pangs of jealousy if it was a girl…
“Thanks! I am really sorry for imposing like this” he added after some hesitation.
“Not at all” I replied continuing to change the pillow case.
“I would like it if you charged me for it”
A spontaneous laughter escaped from me.
“Well”, he appeared quite embarrassed. “That was really silly of me… I see that you read a lot”
Yes… happy that he had noticed it. “Do you too?”
“Yes!” He exclaimed eagerly. “Well, let me show you the ones I have. Maybe you would like to have a look”
And to my delight he had brought out a whole collection of Tolstoy’s works. That had started off an easy camaraderie between us. It was a strange bond that we shared .We had no sob stories to share, hardly talked about our aspirations and never gossiped, but we felt a strange kindredship in the little things we used to do together- reading in the library, watching the television, taking walks. Meanwhile he continued using my cell phone occasionally. I never used to mind but it puzzled me to no end whether to find or rather not find any traces of the numbers he used. Was it something I should have minded…?

I used to tease him about his obsession with the army to which he used to smile sheepishly like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But once in the library when I was teasing him about the army being his real topic of research he had retorted,“I wish I could research on something more interesting”
“Like?” I replied with a mock taunt.
“Like girls… or more accurately one girl” he whispered. I had been pleasantly surprised at his attempt at flirtation. How unlike him yet how likeable it was. I too had egged him on by smiling coquettishly which was again so unlike me…

“And who could that be?” I asked in a soft whisper.

. “Who do you think it could be?” he asked smiling mischievously as he slipped in noiselessly to the seat next to me. I was flustered and started busily turning the pages of my book.

“I have no time for your riddles” I replied with a mock frown. I trembled slightly as he placed his palm over mine and looking deeply into my eyes had whispered.
“It’s actually a very simple riddle. I would love it- if – you-solved – it –soon.” emphasizing each word.
Library indeed was one of the ideal romantic places.

Conversations became awkward after that incident. I felt shy to strike a conversation, the memory of his words haunting me throughout. He avoided speaking to me preferring instead to observe me silently from a distance. Had that been an attempt to gauge me…?

It was again my cell phone that had broken the ice. He had inquired again if he could use my phone. I had a feeling he had something else on his mind, which was reinforced when he asked me to accompany him to the library. The afternoon passed normally in the library. I tried to pick up some notes for my class work while he immersed himself in his socio political books. While glancing at him-engrossed in sheer concentration in his books, I realized that I was falling hopelessly in love with him. And then, fear had replaced the realization- fear of losing him. What if he didn’t? What if he stopped speaking to me after knowing about it? I had looked away hastily for fear of giving away my feelings. But the evening had dispelled all my doubts, all my fears in a beautiful way as an answer to my unsaid prayers. Did he feel what I felt? Could he read my thoughts?

It was already dark as we set off for home. We were walking in silence when a group of boys in bicycles rode close to us hooting loudly. His jaw clenched tightly as he pulled me closer and shielded me with his hand protectively. The silence that followed had so many unspoken questions…I quickened my pace as we neared our house when he suddenly called out.
“Moon”! I turned back quizzically. He thoughtfully walked up to me as if deliberating upon something… “Moon!” he hesitated.
“I …I”, he started and then taking a deep breath as if coming to a painful decision he had blurted out… “I love you…”
I stood shocked rooted to the spot. Afraid to breath, afraid to move.
“I won’t ask you love me, because…I know… It’s sudden… But could I ask you to try to love me back?”
If only he had known, or maybe he knew hence he dared.
“Yes!” I whispered before rushing off towards the house.

The days that had followed were like a dream. Multitude of emotions fleeted through me. Ecstasy! Shyness! Daze! As I kept running through the incidents in my mind, I wondered if mother had noticed the changes in me. I started spending more time in his room on some pretext or in the library. The cell phone that had brought us together almost changed hands as the owner. I was only too contented to be loved by him. If only time had stood still, then… then, that momentous incident wouldn’t have happened – My first kiss!

Like a devoted mate I loved tidying up his things. It gave me immense pleasure to fold his clothes, tidy up his papers- Ah! The papers! He was very particular about them and seemed a bit displeased whenever I used to meddle (as he used to call) with them. He had a small inconspicuous looking notepad which had some rough jottings. What had caught my eye was a sort of map and I had been trying to rack my brains on it when he noticed me with it. He made a grab for it but I was quicker. I darted giggling, the note pad in my hand and attempted to escape from the room.
“Moon!” He had called out a bit sternly. “Hand that to me… Please!”

I waved it at him smiling wickedly as I charted out a course to escape. I made a dash across the room, but this time he caught me and lifting me up by the waist pulled me to the bed. I was squealing in mock fear. He pulled me down and tried to snatch the pad from my hand. I know the description does sound clichéd like a B grade movie but I think things do happen this way –sometimes. He was partially on top of me, eyes desperately on the note pad, when his gaze wandered to my lips. I know my face was flushed, laughing with gay abandon, my long hair fell wildly on the bed, and then without any warning his lips were on mine as he kissed me fiercely. I was furious and pushed him with all my might. But he was insistent and pressed me harder, his tongue probing deep inside. The sensations that flooded my mind were impossible to resist and I gave in to him, my resistance failing completely. At last after a long passionate moment he moved back panting heavily. I remained lying there breathing heavily with my eyes closed… As soon as I regained my breath and some semblance of senses, I jumped up from the bed.
“Wait! Have some water…smoothen your hair…and dress. If possible take a walk before going home. Don’t go like that in front of your mother”
Just like him. Analytical!
There had been no apology but again, why apologize for something beautiful? The note pad was forgotten but I had a feeling that something was just not right. Something…

The kisses became more frequent in the following days. I reveled in my new found love: new found sexuality. And then the note pad had appeared again after a week… He was busily jotting down some data on it. I decided to ignore it and instead directed my attention to the magazines lying in front of me. I started fiddling with the pages when the pen I was holding fell on the floor and rolled underneath the bed towards the head end. Frowning slightly I wriggled in between the bed and the wall to retrieve it : he was still deep in his calculations with his back towards me and hardly noticed what I was doing. And then… that was when, I noticed it. The bulge. Something was taped there to the bed. Puzzled, I ran my fingers to feel it. An audible gasp escaped from me as I realized what it was.
It’s a g…gun!
He swore loudly and pulled me out from the gap. He looked furious and slammed the door shut and banged his fist on the wall.
I crouched in fear against the wall. He seemed like a different man, a stranger.
“Who are you? “I sobbed.
He slumped near me in defeat and looked up at me. There was no trace of anger, but only despair in his eyes
“Moon! … Everything is over! You…You’ve finished everything… Everything!”

“Who are you?… Why are you scaring me?”
“I belong to the revolution” he said calmly. I was devastated. Revolution was a dreaded word. For us it meant only one thing- terrorism. I started weeping uncontrollably as I realized that I had lost him forever with that single statement or maybe he had never been mine. Maybe my grief, maybe my cries like a wounded animal convinced him of my love for him and my helplessness for he suddenly hugged me and whispered,
“Ssh! Don’t cry love. Everything will turn out fine…just give me a chance to explain… Please let it remain a secret or else we will be destroyed.” He tried explaining…justifying something which had no explanation, no justification. I was distraught. Exhausted I stopped crying, but I had stopped listening to what he was saying. I was lost in my morbid thoughts.

The days that followed were dark, gloomy. We argued every day. I tried convincing him to leave the path, but I wasn’t sure what I meant. He said it wasn’t simple and I knew it wasn’t. I knew he was trapped. But somehow I felt that if I convinced him to admit that he had made a mistake, I would induce a miracle which would make everything alright.
“You are all killers” I had spat out once in desperation.
“I haven’t killed anyone.” He hissed.”This is a war, there will be causalities.”
“An unnecessary war.” I had countered
“For you maybe. Not for the oppressed”
“The oppressed?” I had mocked. “Oppressed by whom? That is a laugh coming from you!”
“You live a cozy life. Think about the many who have been oppressed by the military and paramilitary forces.”
“Why were they deployed here in the first place? Because of you all.”
“Oppression is not only about the physical oppression but also economical. We had been neglected by the authorities since long. We had to stand up against the system”
“You should have shown your strength by becoming economically independent instead of resorting to violence”
“Don’t repeat the ideological bullshit of your father” he said, immediately regretting the words. I had burst into tears at his insensitive statement.
“I love you Moon! Why do we need to argue about something that we cannot alter even if we want to?”
“What do I do then? Wait for you to get shot in an encounter? Arrested and hanged?” I had shot back, tears of frustration threatening to spill. I used to end up weeping every time we had a conversation.

Finally after one such heated argument, he had asked for some time to work out a solution. We never did reach a solution, because there was none. At least I thought there was none, but still I hoped for one. He was sure there was one but he was not ready to work on it. I knew he was on a specific job. He had said that he was more onto surveillance and research but I had a feeling that he was onto something. A mission, maybe.
Each morning would bring another day filled with dread and a fear of uncertainty. Never did uncertainty scare me as it had then. Danger lurked everywhere. Whenever I saw him trudging along with Deuta to the college, I used to feel guilty…His long walks with Bhaiti made me nervous…He still continued using my phone. If only my family knew how much I was endangering all of us. Did he realize how we all could be destroyed due to him? I became more irritable as the days passed while he remained patient and loving as before…
I was home alone that day. Ma and Deuta had to visit a relative’s place for a function. Bhaiti taking advantage of their absence had gone to his friend’s place… And he had come home early that day from his so called research work.
“Could you come up to my room?” he had asked without any preamble from the doorway. I was whiling away my time watching some mindless movie. I locked up and went to his room. He bolted the door slowly, as I entered the room. I sat down on the bed eyes downcast. I could sense him just behind me and then he had gently encircled me in his arms, his lips brushing me lightly behind my ear lobe.
“ I love you.” he had whispered. It had felt tantalizing and I leant back on him in acceptance and assurance.

“I feel afraid of losing you. Be mine… completely…and let me be yours. Everything will be alright.” He murmured holding me tight, his lips arousing unknown sensations .My mind was too fudged to make any sense of what he was saying. I don’t remember what I had said because whatever I had said was drowned in the kiss, as he turned me towards him to kiss as if there was no tomorrow. His eyes were dark with desire as he ran his lips over mine, sliding to my throat, and…
I was drowning helplessly in desire as he ran his hands over my back underneath my kurta, too weak to resist, too weak to think…The shrill ring tone of the cell phone startled us both.
“Switch it off.” I whispered urgently. I watched his lean frame as he walked up to the desk to pick up the phone. It was a text message and he frowned as he read it. Then I lost him…His frown transformed into comprehension, comprehension changing again to puzzlement. He had transported himself into his dark forbidden world where maybe my existence hardly mattered. Tears of humiliation, remorse, anger, streamed down my cheeks, as I slowly gathered my kurta and slipped it on. I arose from the bed and quietly made out of the door. He remained oblivious to everything, immersed in that note pad of his.

I cried my heart out in the safe haven of my room. After exhausting myself of all the tears and efforts, I lay there trying to figure out everything. He did not come to see me until dinnertime. He was his usual cheerful self- smiling and teasing. The conversation was animated with Bhaiti and Deuta joining him. As I watched the three most important men in my life, I couldn’t but help realizing how dangerous their existence had become.
Bhaiti- looking forward to a bright future; Deuta – contented with his simple life, and Him?
I blinked hard and tried to smile at them.

But some things are inevitable and that dreaded day did arrive. The paramilitary forces were swift. They struck at dawn when he was least expecting. They were taking in Deuta too for interrogation. But Jitu da, my paternal cousin who is a lawyer had assured us that we needn’t worry about Deuta. It was just a formality and they wouldn’t detain him for much long. In other words it was just an eye wash as it was I, who had reported about him (with Jitu da’s help of course)
Yes ! Me!
Why did I do it? – Isn’t it obvious why I did it? There was only one outcome of what he was: of what he did; of what we shared- Failure! But I had the power, the option of bringing it about. It’s like opting for euthanasia instead of waiting for a slow, painful death. I could have waited for a miracle, if I had faith in my love, but I believed life is more than about love…
Maybe I was wrong in not giving him his chance to fulfill his promise of finding a solution, but I believe what I did was just the right thing to do- for all of us. . Maybe I was not right, maybe I was wrong, but still what I did was the right thing and …to do the right thing you needn’t be right or wrong.
But … yes! The right thing was done… And the right thing needs to be done at all cost… isn’t it? The right thing is the only thing to be done…

Man- There she is! My wife! Working from dawn to dusk… Do I help her? Ah! I don’t. She gets the milk from the booth! I don’t. She cleans, cooks, prepares the children for school. I am still on my bed. I don’t get up. She does all this by herself. She prepares breakfast and lunch for me. I say nothing to her. I don’t praise the food. (Though she cooks damn well) I eat it in silence. I don’t thank her. After her work is done at home, she gets ready for office. Ah! She looks so pretty when she wears blue. But I don’t say anything. I don’t react. I just wait for her to leave silently. She smells nice, very nice- the faint floral ones… not the strong ones that the tarts in my office used to wear. She usually leaves bidding a faint goodbye. Sometimes I grunt back, sometimes I don’t…
For hours I m left alone with my writing. But I am not writing anything productive either…I can’t. After a few futile attempts I just lie back, watch television and wait for them to arrive. Oh! I don’t do the dishes. I don’t water the plants; I don’t even wash the clothes either. Who does them? Who else? Of course she does them. Does she grumble? I don’t know. I have never heard her grumble. Maybe she does it secretly, but if I were to place a bet I would place it on her not doing so.
Ah! In the evening it is the same story. I don’t wait for her with a cup of tea though I know she would like one. She comes with the groceries. I don’t rush out to help her put them down .I know the children would love to narrate to me their stories. But I just watch the television. I don’t play with them. But they don’t complain. I wish they hated me. I wish they would go away from my life. She is exhausted but she still goes about her work. The children, dishes, dinner… I just watch the television. At bedtime when she lies down near me, exhausted maybe, she still smells fresh and beautiful. But I don’t make love to her. I know she would like a massage. I know she would like to talk about the day. But… I just feign sleep… Another day is wasted in my silence.

Woman- My dear husband! He does not speak to me. I wish he would speak to me. I wish he would say something to me. Even a rebuke would be music to my ears. But he doesn’t say anything. I work from dawn to dusk. But he just watches me mutely. He doesn’t say anything. He neither approves nor shows his disproval. How, I long for a caress from him, but he won’t touch me on his own. He doesn’t help me in my work. Do I mind? No, of course not. I don’t mind the extra work. He does not play with the children. I play with them. He does not watch us play either. He prefers watching the television. I don’t mind but. I sometimes sit down near him to watch whatever he is watching. I sometimes reach out to hold his hand. He does not push my hand away, but he doesn’t press it gently in acknowledgement either. His hand just remains there- dead… I wish I had lots of money. Maybe things would have been different if only I had lots of money. But I don’t have and so doesn’t he. But I am not complaining against him. He is not a bad man. He loves the children He loves me too. How do I know? I know it. In fact I know it for sure. He just does not say it. He does not show it. But yes! The love is there. The concern is there. Love is what is making me hope for better days. Love is what is making me work harder. Maybe my love for him will make him speak out one day. The silence will be over one day.

Fate – Humans! Ah fickle humans. Fickle, frail human, but their spirit so strong. He- Relentless in his pursuit to make them go away from his life. She- Unbending in her wish to stay back and love him back. Sigh! Why is it that, their complaints are against me and me only? What have I done? I just played a little, after all. Is it my fault if he became paralyzed with hemiplegia? Sigh! And they call me cruel fate.

Man- Does she know how much I love her?

Woman – Does he know how much I love him?

24th Aug’09 1. 45 am- Chinmay breathed his last exactly at 1.45 am. Road traffic accident. A head injury. The doctor checked his pulse once again, not because he wanted to double check but he did it as a reflex… A practiced reflex. Breaking the news to the people outside would be difficult. It always was, more so if the patient was only 18 years old.

23rd Aug’09 11.00 pm- Dr.Ranjita Baruah felt relaxed after a long time. The landline phone was set in a silent mode and the cell phone switched off. She had called up her colleague in Downtown Hospital to report her unavailability citing her mom’s illness as a reason. A lie.Though she was not on duty, she was on call and she was on roster to handle emergency cases which were referred from the casualty, but now she could sleep in peace for the rest of the night. If she had checked the landline, she would have seen that there were 22 missed calls from her hospital.

23rd August ’09, 10.35pm - Animesh looked agitatedly at his watch. It was the 7th call in 30 minutes from Rudra Senapati., over a small, stray incident of stone throwing. It must have been a tramp or some drunkard with a mind for mischief – not at all a case befitting the rank of an ACP, Animesh mused. But none the less, that had sent Mr Senapati in a fury irritating the peace and quiet of his home as well as Animesh’s.

“See Rudra! Don’t worry, I have asked the SP to look into the matter. He is a diligent chap… No, no sealing the area will not be a good idea…No we cannot do that without a search warrant… Trust me. We are at it and we will find him…Err… Rudra , you see my mother in law has suddenly taken ill and I have to go to Nagaon now… yes yes!.. I will get back to you as soon as I return in the morning…” He hung up and switched off the cell phone with a grim expression while his wife looked on from the door.

23rd August ’09, 9.55 pm- He must have stood there staring at the big house, maybe for a minute or two, but it seemed an eternity to him. The evening incident flashed before him again. The scratch hadn’t been his fault, but still he was slapped, punched and kicked around in front of hundred odd people. None came forward to intervene, not even the police. He felt the anger rising inside him and in a mad fury, picked up the stone lying nearby and threw at the house blindly , with all his might. The stone smashed into a window pane somewhere, shattering the glass as well as the stillness of the night. He didn’t wait to see what happened next, and was swiftly on his feet, the panic beginning to replace the anger.

23rd August ’09,7.00 pm – The group of three was about to depart from the club house, their cars already driven up by the valets. Rudra Senapati shook hands with ACP Animesh Baruah warmly, while Dr Ranjita looking dazzling, smiled at their bon homie.
“Ah I envy you both. What a combination! One an IPS officer and the other a neurosurgeon.”!
“Oh come on! But the real power lies at the hands of future leaders like you” Animesh said with a chuckle”
‘Future leader??? Cummon, I m just an entrepreneur!” They parted with a hearty laugh proceeding to their own cars .Rudra Senapati was indeed an entrepreneur, but it was doubtful how he became one. Some say he was an ULFA whose fortunes changed after he surrendered. But whatever the case maybe, there remained no doubt that there was something menacing and ruthless about him.
Rudra revved up his Skoda and started towards the club house gate with Animesh following him behind. The area was well lit, which was probably the reason he forgot to switch on the headlights nor did he honk his horn, as he zoomed towards the gate. He barely missed the auto rickshaw, which had sped up the gate on the main road, in the process scraping the iron gate which gave a nasty scratch to his pride-his car.. The auto-rickshaw had screeched to a halt, probably due to the shock of the sudden appearance of the car. In other words it was apparent whose fault it was, but Rudra thought otherwise. He jumped out of his car and charged at the Auto driver. He behaved like a man possessed, hurling abuses and hitting him over and over again. The crowd looked on as usual without any reaction. Animesh came in from behind and somehow managed to hold him back, but not before placing a tight slap himself on the poor autowala . No body realized that a fine evening was turning into a nightmare for all of them…

23rd August ’09, 10.00 am

“Dad I am taking the ford Ikon today. We are having a night out with friends” Chinmay called out to his father as he made his way to the door.
“Alright, son! Just don’t bring it home smashed like last time”, both laughed out heartily at the memory of the last time he drove the car.
His mother pursed her lips in disproval.” You shouldn’t spoil him so much! Someday he will get himself into trouble.”
“ Ah! He won’t. After all he is Rudra Senapati’s son. No one can dare cause trouble for us. No body messes with me or my son!”

India Rocks! A phrase I come across quite often. A phrase people use when a person is happy . A happy satisfied person . Happy and satisfied with India. But again there are many a time when there is quite a lot of India bashing happening too.What is the general picture? Satisfied or Dissatisfied? On this independence day We at fried eye decided to conduct a poll to see what exactly do people think? India Rocks? Or India in a rocky ground? This is here what India thinks. The question- what does independence and indipendence day mean to you? Evoked the following responses from our responders picked up from among different strata and age group of people.

Dr Jayati – Independence day? What does a single day of celebration mean when there is a static thought through out the year- India is the most independent country which follows independence to the T. Everywhere you look people peeing, spitting , abusing … Independence to break all rules , all norms, Independence to trash everything- from movies books sports politics- without giving a thought to consequences. Independence to be heard whenever you feel like speaking. Independence to criticise even if you don’t have the capability to produce tenth of that result yourself. Am I being sarcastic? I don’t know about that, but yes I am behaving independently and I will be lying if I say I don’t enjoy this freedom.
Srajan- ( Tenth standard student)- Independence? You are asking a teenager what Independence means? An Indian teenager? In Indian tradition, a teenager has to imagine the meaning of Independence after reading it in Wikipedia. We are called the future of our country , but at home or schools or public places, how much of our opinion is being asked for. It is only in isolated polls as yours do they bother to voice our thoughts. As for the significance of Independence day , well its more commercialization in the name of celebrations and awareness. Look at the Malls, Complexes shamelessly promoting their products in the name of Independence day without even bothering to instill an iota of Patriotism. Do you really see any Patriotism these days? We just come to hear about it in movies and books.

Rupali – A BE student- Independence and Independence day – though I am not much into demonstration , but deep in my heart this as an Ideology was very dear to me, very important to me. It told me about the struggles and fight of those people who dared to be different and had the heart to fight for what they believed and wanted for themselves and for the next generation. Over and above a fight for Independence It was a fight against the power system which was not only corrupt but also unfair, unjust and cruel too. ( mind you, if they had been a just and a fair system, I don’t think people would have bothered much about freedom) But sadly , now the power system has again shifted to such a state even after being that of an Independent country

Ganga –(maid) (smilingly shyly) There is a parade. They fly kites. Yes they drove away the Angrez on this day. Aur bas kya bolu!
Het raam Rickshaw wala- Hamare liye koi Azaadi nahin hai .. . ( there is no freedom for us We still struggle. We still suffer. We are still neglected)

Leo – A techie from Bangalore and an Avid blogger who blogs at http://leonnyes.wordpress.com had this to say.
Independence, that word says we’re self reliant.. but still, no one is completely independent I feel. We all rely on someone else for something or the other in life.. be it our parents, or our better half, or our friends.. sometimes even strangers.. that word means we try our best to depend on ourselves more than we depend on these people.. We try to make our own decisions.. make our own way in life… like, we can take care of ourselves.. yet not being alone in that care.

Independence Day, well, firstly it means a holiday to me. Used to be from school, then from college, now from work. But on a wider perspective if you see, India is not really independent, or free. We can’t really take our own decisions, some decisions are forced on us, and the echo of silence goes unheard. There are people out there who aren’t free.. women who are abused, and killed in the name of honor.. farmers who kill themselves because the “governments” decision are forced on them, the common man who is held captive to the rising economy.. babies which die without even seeing the first light.. cruel murders which weren’t even the victim’s fault.. a hefty fine for us breaking the smallest rule whereas the “government” authorities can break it and they escape scot-free.. Independence Day is not yet true in all respects.. we’re just free of the British ruling us.. only who rules has changed, the ruling has not… and if a blind eye continues to be cast on such notions, India will not be truly independent in the sense of the word.

Gyanban- A blogger from Singapore shared his thoughts with us. He blogs in www.gyanban.com

It started as a holiday,then changed to a dry day, moved on swiftly to a long weekend plan,then a family outing…

Independence day is an uncomfortable reminder to me – of how little I am doing for my country,and how much I’ve grown to extract from it. Being in a foreign land,I realise every bit of freedom that my country offered and how little I valued it when I was in India.

As a principle I have stopped questioning how my country is being run…I will question again, when I am doing something about it.

Till then I am thankful and will be eternally grateful to those who chose to take responsibility.
And Again as I said-What was once a single dream for thousands of years is a harsh reality now of 63 years.

The idea is to find a balance.No form of extremism is good for any one in this planet – whether it is about a thought,action or culture.Not once dare I say it is easy.But it is the right direction…..at least till the current mass consensus lasts.!

I am an Indian- from North East India, more specifically from Assam and in spite of some adverse incidents that are attributed to us as Indians or North East Indians, I am not ashamed nor do I regret being one. Before you accuse me of having separatist sentiments, please hear me out patiently. I am an Indian, was an Indian, and always be one. Nothing can change that, but if I add that I belong to the North Eastern part, it does not make me a lesser Indian. It is as innocuous as saying I am from Anand Vihar, Delhi, or Rajajipuram, Lucknow or Rajaji nagar, Bangalore.Now tell me, is saying : you are from Anand Vihar Delhi : a separatist statement? It is just a …statement. Oh no! I will not go over the top in its praises by saying how proud and blessed I am to belong there. I need not certify that , do I? Well I am contented and satisfied, as satisfied as being an Indian, to belong to the north East.. Of course I do have my “system bashing” moments for both India and Northeast and ‘tch tch’ thoughts but tell me who doesn’t at one point of time or other? Which child does not have an occasional tiff or complains against his / her parents. But that does not end a relationship, does it? And, about the accusation of exploitation and counter accusations of terrorism and aggression, well that is a matter beyond the comprehension of my pea sized brain. The so called “internal policies and politics” is simply beyond the scope of this article but here I would just like to add that – An evil ideation or regressive thought is an individual “thing” and cannot be generalized to any caste , community, state or country. It is of course a different thing if those individuals with an evil mind or regressive thoughts manage to project it as a communal or regional ideology by sheer brute power.- But if the origin is traced, it still remains an individual ideology only.
So coming back to what I originally wanted to say. Yes! Sorry ! I haven’t yet come to my subject. All that I had so far stated was just a build up to what I wanted to analyze today. ( Don’t worry. It will not be a lengthy one)
It is an analyses of the reactions and counter reactions, evoked by the statement “ I am from North East India”
Usually five type / categories of reaction occurs.
First- : Oh reall? ( eyes twinkling, with a huge animated smile) That’s nice Aha! Kamakhya Temple, Assam Tea, Cherrapunji, Tawang .. etc. isn’t it?

Second- : Oh really? ( amazement written large in face) Is it true that there are cannibals? Will we get killed the moment we step over there?

Third – : oh North East! There they eat anything that moves. Backward people!( with a huge mocking smile)

Fourth – So? Duh! Don’t know what you are speaking of and Don’t care.

Fifth – (Benign smile in place)Great!

The first reaction is of course the most encouraging and warm response. It really gladdens the heart to know that he/she does care and is willing to know more about us. Of course here I have to admit that there are some people amongst us , who snootily reply to some one’s eager query of ‘Are you from such and such place?” by a haughty “ I am an Indian” Hell! I know you are an Indian, but my dear fellowman, the other person is not trying to push you out of the greater picture called India. He/She is just trying to appreciate the region you belong to. Nothing bad in that, I think. A vast country with diverse regional and geographical differences will obviously have diverse and unique culture and tradition depending on that. You cannot avoid that but that again does not prevent us from being assimilated into a greater whole without losing our uniqueness.

Now, coming back to the second reaction, it is not malicious but rather of pure amazement and a result of certain misinformation. And though the instant counter response is of shock and indignation at such insinuation, if you come to think of it, the questioner is not exactly at fault. He/ She was just misinformed and there is still curiosity and wonderment to know more about the north east. – He is interested –He / she care.

Third reaction :- is just a declaration by an all knowing soul who was misinformed and one who did not bother to clarify. Counter reaction will be vehement denial (obviously) Some what aggressive (can’t really blame for it) which may sometimes result in a heated argument. But before going full blast on Mr. Know All, just have a look at reaction no 4. Isn’t reaction no 3 better than reaction no 4. Reaction no 4 is a dead end. The person is simply not interested from where you are, what you are, your plus points / minus points. He / she would not care less if you said North East India is actually a part of Timbuctoo. You would be an alien for all it mattered.- And that is sad! Very sad! The connection is lost. Communication blocked. A dead relationship.
In that way reaction 3 is better, in that the person at least cared enough ( though in a negative way) to remember that North East region exists. A little step forward from us to welcome them and he/ she will be there too.
The fifth reaction is an ambiguous one. You really don’t know what the person might have meant. It could mean nothing and he or she had just half ear on what you were saying. It could be the polite version of reaction 4, or it could be- that’s great I would like to know more but you have to start first. But since the person pasted a benign smile on his/ her face, lets give him/her the benefit of doubt and assume that he/she is interested.
So what exactly is my inference from the above. No I am not an expert nor a wise person, but what I feel is a gut feeling or a feminine instinct of the key being information distribution and two way communication. Nothing new , I know but maybe nothing new simply for the reason that this might be the only key.
North East India is an amazing place which has so many fascinating sights, interesting phenomenon, flora and fauna, I mean one can go on and on about it.
Kamakhya temple, a Shaktipeeth and a holy shrine and as per legends this is the place where Godess Sati’s yoni fell after her self sacrifice and Lord Shiva’s dance of destruction. During the Ambubaci in Summer, the menstruation of Godess Kamakhya is celebrated and as an amazing phenomena, the water in the main shrine runs red with ferrous oxide during this period.
Majuli – the largest river Island in the world- The world can you imagine that?
Then the one horned rhino, found only in and only in Kaziranga. The flora – rare orchids uniquely found in the North East . More than 700 types!!
.Mawsynram in Meghalaya- the place with the highest rainfall., Tawang- breathtaking high altitude Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh.. And they are just waiting for you to be rediscovered. But only thing posing as a barrier is misinformation about the inhospitable situation. Inadequate information regarding the things of interest – so inadequate that it simply does not excite people. Earlier due to remoteness of the area , the region was unknown, but in today’s technologically advanced age this cannot be an excuse isn’t it? . It will be more our discredit if we can not bring before you the true North East. We are eager to do so, but you have to take a step forward too. Information exchange is a two way process. If we are eager to show you the true North East , so are we to know more about you and your region. and that is possible only when we will be able to communicate without any sort of mistrust or disdain. Nothing separatist in that I guess. It is plain Unity in Diversity. So what do you say? We have taken our first step, are you ready to come forward to meet us?

A vast ocean and here I was trying to swim. Now how did I reach here? Who Am I? I remembered nothing. Where was I? How did I get here? What was I trying to do exactly? I did not know how to swim. Didn’t remember learning it either, so what was I doing here suddenly splashing about. Was I going to drown?

“Help” I shouted. Amidst the splashes and attempts to float, I had a vision of something like a shore at a distance. In fact not too far, but still, quite a distance away and yes! It was a shore. I tried to make a feeble attempt to move forward. I was getting tired, but I was amazed that I hadn’t drowned yet.

Oh My God! It had to be a dream..ofcourse this couldn’t be true. I tried to will myself to wake up, but to no avail. I was still in the ocean trying to keep myself afloat and amazingly was doing very naturally something that I had never done earlier.

I won’t say I was doing a good job. Sometimes floating , sometimes gulping tones of salty water , sometimes gasping, but yes I was managing to move forward with a slow speed….And it was then , I saw him … … … pebbles in hand , playing with them, tossing them- catching them mid air.

I shouted for help. He didn’t hear or he did maybe…but he did not look at me. I shouted for help…. praying for him to notice me, but in vain,he just did not notice…

This time he turned towards me and saw, but there was surprisingly neither surprise nor curiosity, just an amused look, with a hint of smile.

“Please help me” I cried out. I was still quite a distance away. I was fatigued. He looked at me for a moment, smiled and then started fiddling with his pebbles again. Goodness! Was he blind?

I was sure, I was about to collapse but his callousness angered me so much that I felt a new vigor in me. The muscles ceased to ache now. The fatigue seemed to drain off. I felt fresh. He just kept smiling, playing with the pebbles.

But what was this? The more I seemed to swim towards the shore the farther I was thrown away by the waves. He was still there playing with the pebbles. Didn’t he see me? Why was he ignoring me or was he? There seemed to be an air of nonchalance around him. Everything was becoming so surreal. Was I kidnapped by any chance?

As I plunged forwards, a giant wave came up and literally drowned me. There was water everywhere, I could not see anything. My lungs were bursting. Oh my God! Did he not see me? What was going on? Did he intend to let me drown?

I screamed in terror. I felt like giving up. I wouldn’t have been able to hold on much longer. Just when I was about to give up and just let go, I felt something buoying me up as if I was being set afloat by an unseen force. Gradually the waters calmed down considerably. I saw him, a blur. He was still concentrating on the pebbles that he held but with intensity as if he was willing something to happen. I yelled at him in anger and frustration but he just smiled and walked a little farther away.

I started crying in desperation. Was I hallucinating? Illusions? It was still a mystery how I was drifting afloat all strength sapped away. I felt exhausted, sleep taking over me. Yes! I wanted to sleep, never to wake again and then I just lost awareness of all sensations. I fell asleep (I know it sounds ridiculous) Maybe when I wake up I will find it to be a dream. I don’t know since how long I had been drifting. I was thirsty and weary. Something eerie something mysterious was going on. I swam confusedly as I realized that I had drifted far away. There was no shore to be seen. I was lost. A gripping fear seized me. Oh God! What was happening? This was so unreal. I tried to swim on. There must be a way out. Or was the only way out the hard way. Should I just let everything go? Maybe this was a riddle and the only way out was just going with the flow and let the waves take you to wherever it lead to.

Where was he? How could he let go? Had he something to do with this? Was I just a pawn in some greater conspiracy? I felt light headed and dizzy. This time I was finished. Maybe it was better this way. To pass away insignificantly, alone unattended. A sob escaped my lips. A great grief seemed to encompass me. I took a deep breath and then let myself be submerged. I did not want to struggle anymore. I did not have the strength. I closed my eyes and … suddenly I felt a hand grasp my hand and heave me up to terra firma.

I coughed, shivered and looked up at my savior. It was Him! I was shocked. Where did he appear from now?

“What is all these? Who are you” I asked him with a surprisingly menacing calm.

He smiled, a strange luminescence radiating from him.

“That”, pointing to the ocean he said, “was life.”

“AND I AM GOD”

And then he was gone!!!

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Life is a journey- They say! Destination – Unknown! Purpose –Debatable, but I am raring to go wherever life takes me.
My feet are weary and I have miles to go before I sleep- Have read it somewhere but why ponder? I am ready to go wherever life takes me.
I may stumble I may trip, but why should I worry? Happens all the time, I am ready to go wherever my feet takes me
I may despair, I may stall. I may rest, and may be halt for awhile, but of course, hey! I will be up again on my feet before you know and on my journey onwards.
I have no great plans, nor any big aspirations of achieving the unknown. I do not question the purpose of my existence because I know I am just an ordinary being.
If I am meant to walk on, then I will, for I fear not to tread where none has dared.
My feet maybe weary. My heart heavy at times but I am raring to go……