When my brother grows young..

As the little tyke matures,

Steadily as my brother grows tall,

I fear if I could stand at all,

When his young blood,

Little angry and little tired,

When he would adhere himself,

With a chair and sit beside,

I’ll talk of our brave warrior tribe,

And I would speak of our warriors,

And those heroes on the chariots,

Those soldiers that fought till last,

That glory that’s now lost,

Indisputable, he’ll feel proud,

But I fear if he would,

Ask me to keep aside the gained pride,

And if he ignores the historic fame,

And if he asks me his father’s name..

My brother, my paternal uncle's only child lost his father at a tender age of six months. Words that I wrote here only dedicated to his thoughts.

The day I made my Parent's proud of me

It was the first half of the year 2010. The night before that day I informed my parents that I won't be having dinner at home. I had plans to have dinner outside but later the plan got cancelled. I reached home but by then my parents had already taken their dinner and there was nothing for me. I had a few biscuits and slept with hunger. The next morning I woke up and got a call from Ankit and he asked if I would like to accompany him to Guwahati Medical College & Hospital. Without much thinking I agreed and as usual I forgot to ask him the reason of him visit. I had a cup of tea and got dressed to accompany him. On the way while I was in the pillion I asked him the reason of his visit. He said me that there was a girl admitted there, whose mother who worked as a sweeper in his mother's school and she needed blood urgently. So he rushed there. After reaching there I got to know that blood donor's were asking 3000 bucks for a bottle which was almost a month's salary of that lady. With no thinking I got ready for blood donation. I am sure any man on my stand then would not have had the guts to give a second thought to such a situation. I wasn't even eighteen then, I was in my mid seventeen's. As I got inside the donation room,

Doctor - "What's your age?"

Me - "Madam nineteen" (she stared at my face for a while then probably assumed I was speaking the truth)

Doctor - "When did you have your last meal?"

Me - "Madam one hour back, I had a plate of rice and potato fries with dal." (Although there was a rat race running inside my stomach I had to lie or else I would be sent back.)

Doctor - "Is this the first time you are donating blood?"

Me - "No madam I did once earlier." (I was damn scared to lie at that hour as it was my first time and I was empty stomach; I remember praying God that somehow he saves me from fainting)

After these few formality questions the lady directed the nurse to take me to the chair. I was asked to be comfortable and stretch my arm. She did the formalities and very soon I could see blood flow in the vessel. I grasped some air of peace but it wasn't for long. My father called me up.

Father - "Where are you?"

Me - "Papa, in Dona Planet. I am having Pizza here."

Father - "Come to Christian Basti, I am here. I want you to meet a close friend of mine."

I stared towards Ankit and he stared towards me. It was the first time for both of us. While we both were trying to console each other that everything would be fine, the nurse repeatedly asked us not to worry.

Finally it was over. I got two Parle-G biscuits and one Mango Frooti from the hospital. I met the mother of that girl and a few more relatives. Her face is still clear in my memory. I can't forgot how she was crying and in midst of her tears she was thanking us with folded hands. I was speechless and stayed dumb. I got emotional. I remember Ankit consoling her that everything would be alright and he also added that if further they required any help, they shouldn't hesitate to call us.

After an hour I met my father. he saw Ankit's wrist and asked to whom did he donate blood? He could make out that with a small band-aid thats been attached after someone donates blood. Luckily I could cover my wrist as I had worn full sleeves.

After everything was over, I had two rotis and a plate of Butter Chicken at Biryani House, Maligaon with Ankit. I counted at finger tips and it was after 29 hours I was having something. I returned home and didn't mention anything neither to my father nor to my mother.

After a week, just before sleeping I said everything to my father and mother. My father smiled and he said "Good Job" and even my mother smiled. That was the day I made them proud.

Later Ankit informed me that the girl was saved. When I got that news I felt like I did something for my society. I was even more flattered because for the first time I had done something which could made me stand with pride in front of my own eyes. That day i promised myself that if blood could save any body's life than I would be the first one to donate it. After that I have been donating blood regularly with four-five months interval.

Browsing the World - II

If you come across the North-Eastern regional television channels these days every alternate day you would come across a channel focusing on the news of Police Officer taking bribe under the head Sting operation. They try to prove these policeman greater culprits than even Dawood Ibrahim. I am not opposing this act of the news channels but they did their job focusing the truth as Bribery is recognized as a crime by the Indian Penal Code. But news channels are sworn to be unbiased. What happens to these news channels when these policemen are doing something good for the society. Just today while I was coming from one part of the Guwahati City to another my eyes stuck on the scenario when a Police constable was helping two small children cross a busy street. Just then I saw a news channel vehicle pass the street. They did act blind to the scenario. Are they sworn to publish only wrong deeds? The publications by the digital media have created a wrong scenario in the eyes of the society regarding the Police Personnel. The media never publishes how hard they go when they are in duty or they never care to publish their pay slip. They neither publish the hardships related to a Cop's life nor will they publish their instances of bravery. The media comes to action when the Police Personnel is related to mere acts like bribery or not wearing helmet while riding. When we browse the world around us, we will spot numerous incidents when these Policemen saves the dignity and honor of their uniform helping the society. Hope for a unbiased media soon that shall take no pain to display the right doings of these men in uniform. I don't have any relative or close friend serving the Indian Police; but still I can purely understand their life. Salute to those men in Uniform.

Browsing the World - I

When I see the kids of today who belong to rich parent's I get amazed. With video games and expensive toys kids of today seem to be spending their parents money on the gadgets and gizmos. People have almost forgotten the traditional happiness elements of a child that are much different from these shop delighting objects. As soon as I see these new generation kids getting so involved with the inventions of science I go back to those days of my childhood. Childhood mostly is a broken memory and a collective data of events and toys that i get to hear from my near & dear ones. My parents always filled my mat with toys, but as I can analyse it was not possible for such expensive toys for me. Still I was happy. I didn't ask for any electronic gizmo until eleventh when I got my computer. I even didn't ask for a hand video game. Still I was happy. My elements of happiness were to roam around the neighborhood, sweets and Mango Frooti. When I see the kids of today who are born to parent's that belong to the lower class of the society, I see a different scenario. They seem happy playing with the bricks and sand when their mother is busy fetching them to the newly built sky touching apartments. They seem to be friendly with the sun and rain from a very tender age. They seem to have learnt the value of last drop of water in the pipe when the world around them is wasting water everywhere. They seem to have understood well that money can't bring happiness. When I stand on the road on the left I see the kids that still complain just because they missed the latest game DVD and on the right I see kids who seem very happy with a half stomach meal. As I browse the world around this vast difference I spot every time where the world is divided into segments and narrow boundaries built with money seem to divide the happiness among young hearts. I can neither complain the rich parents or blame the poor parents. It's just that the atmosphere today has built new parameter's on these future countrymen that seem to strongly affect their state of mind and if very soon these boundaries are not diminished very soon we would see a world that was least expected to been seen by great men of yesterday.

Barthakur's Bed..

It was the evening of 26th March 2010, the day my class 12th boards were over. I reached home directly after exams, tired and exhausted to my throat. I was also not doing good with my health. The thermometer readings were above normal and I was vomiting for past few days. My appetite was almost dead which turned me weaker. My father took me to hospital. He took me to Barthakur Nursing Home. The doctor examined and also had some tests done and unsatisfactory remarks towards my health and finally he advised to get me admitted. I wasn't ready at all. I got admitted and asked for a cabin that was open to fresh air.

I called up all friends and withing few minutes I had a couple of injections and a saline. Rakesh, Saranga, Partha, Maharshi, Bibhuti, Ankit rushed at that moment itself and they were shocked to see me with all exhausted muscles. They knew I wasn't doing good with health at all still they never thought that I was so worse. After that Nitesh who had very less clue about the geography and bus routes of Guwahati had stepped there in for me. After that Sidhartha and a few more friends who were unknown to me (Maharshi's friend's) were also there. 

Then Maharshi asked a question a question to the nurse - "Will there be any problem if we 10 guys stay as his attendant? Please don't worry, we will adjust and we will sit comfortably in the entire perimeter of the room". I am sure the nurse must have had a minor heart attack.

Rakesh stayed with me and he was asked to monitor my saline limits and also call the emergency doctor if any complicity was reported. We watched two movies over zee cinema the entire night.

The next day on 27th Saranga and Maharshi was there early morning. Someone had informed Buragohain that I was going through a very critical stage and might be something wrong would be happening with me very soon. I never remember Buragohain being so tensed like this. He rushed to the hospital with Biswajit and Partha and later when he saw me laughing around he grabbed some air of peace. I was advised for some fruit juices and other things that would be beneficial for health.

I was detected with jaundice. It was the third time I had jaundice and also the doctor had suspicions of an enlarged gall-bladder for me. I was in a little shit.

The third day, on 28th Aroma came. I had informed her earlier but the earlier two days she was thinking I was probably playing a prank with her. Saranga, Bibhuti and Ankit were also there. My dad couldn't have a good lunch and so Bibhuti and Ankit cared for some samosa's in the evening. Even I had one. 

The next day also went along in company of friends and relatives. After 5 days, on 30th I was released with a long chart of food diet and a good set of precautions.

Barthakur's bed not only cured my jaundice trouble but also cared to teach me a lot of beautiful lessons. Some people who I cared more than anything didn't bother even for a phone call and the other's were just there for me anytime and every time. Barthakur Nursing Home more than a hospital for me, it was indeed a good lesson.

On Mother's lap..

Miles away, crossing different lands and rivers crossing the linguistic barriers as I stay in the busy and tempting city of Bengaluru, which is a total different landscape than my Motherland Assam. Assam is a scenario of peace and serenity and where nature fills with blessings of love. I never realized how attached I am towards the beauty of this place until I had to leave this place for further educational purposes. As I stayed away I grew more and more affection and got devoted towards the beauty of the greenery of the fields. The isle of Majuli seemed more beautiful than before. When I am away in the hush & rush of the Bangalore the strings of attachment towards my motherland carries my heart and floods it with all memories. As in the busy metro I move towards the top of Nandi or towards the water of Shivasamudra I get a glimpse of my motherland and which makes me feel of a home away from home. I see my bloom with happiness and smile in the busy metro yet deep inside my heart still ponders and roams across the banks of Deepor Beel. When they care to ask me why I say them its a knot of faith and a bonding of love and you won't know now. I search for my happiness too and every time I do I land up in the lanes of my village Dwarkuchi.

From days before, with the feeling to be home I get excited and turn insomniac. With no sleep I start counting how many hours more. I rush airport early and hope if somehow time travels a bit early. As the days become bright, I fly above the clouds and reach the greenery of the East. As the plane gets down I realize how it feels to be home and I I step out of the airport I feel I am on my mother's lap and I pray Almighty and thank him for making my mother so beautiful. As I steer ahead, among the buildings of the University or the roads across Jalukbari I realize old memories on these roads turn fresh. As I reach my home and see my parents waiting on the door, and the smile on both of their faces makes me feel more happy. As I walk inside running away from all formalities and as I rest for a while my mother's hand waves my hair every time and the feeling so beautiful that makes me fall asleep on my mother's lap.

A Jajabor's Life..

'Jajabor' is a very sweet word that has been coined from my mother tongue Assamese which describes the life of a nomad. The enlightenment towards the depth of the word has increased with a song of the Assamese Legend Bhupen Hazarika and also a recent emerging voice in the Bollywood Industry, Angaraag Mahanta (Papon da) who sang a song with the name Jajabor for a reality show Roadies this year.

Experiencing the attire of a Jajabor for a term in one's life is a beautiful experience. I remember my days of second semester when I had only one perfect destination for the day, and that was in the benches of my classroom. The chilled tandoori nights of those days were at different places. I actually had for homes, all of which was equally close to me. I had my own room, Syamanta's room, Sidhartha's & Ritusanjay's room and Yashwant's room. All the places at different boundaries of the Bangalore Metro. Syamanta and Sidhartha's room were the best den for a party. We would sleep all day and party all night. It was fun, actually a different zenith of the bachelor life. Yashwant's room was like a Shanti-Niketan for me and it was the place where I could study in peace. I used to be at my room just for a day or two after a fortnight to get my clothes washed and some other personal chores. I had my tooth brush and shaving razor always inside my bag with a couple of books. Every morning I had no clue, where I would  be sleeping for the entire night. After the college and then after a few phone calls I would decide and turn up at the destined place either to party or to study. In the tenure of those days I gained extremes of experiences. In the days when money flourished in our pocket's we used to drive to airport to get ourselves a mug of coffee and spend some time just to disappear the loneliness of the night. Also in the day's when my pocket was empty with a few ten rupees note and some coins I had lived entirely an week without any difficulty and which has been entirely mentioned in a different blog of mine (Link). I had also experience of journey's where I would travel hundreds of kilometers across different boundaries and even I had weeks where I used to stay idle and sit back with Syamanta. 

The entire semester flourished with peace and the day when it came to change my apartment at the end of the semester I realized I had actually turned up to be a Jajabor when I had searched my entire shelf and suitcases for my shirt's and when I didn't find them in my place. Later after a few phone calls I realized I had two of them at Yashwant's place, three at Syamanta's place and three at Sidhartha's place. I had my classes and exams with either Syamanta's or Sidhartha's shirt. I like the experience.

Maestro's Melancholy..

Night falls as time disappears,

and the lyric that flows,

maestro tunes in a melancholy,

word's seem lost in her beauty,

in the chords of an acoustic,

as he blooms like an acetate,

smiles, yet cries of heartache,

as ounces of trust break and dissipate,

tears of ecstasy bade his faith,

as he lay's on the bed of death,

leaving behind a testimony,

he demands on grave, a bottle of whiskey,

as he abandoned himself from this world,

he asked me to convey her his love..

Far away from me..

All I see in front of me,

is everything blue and seems empty,

abiding the loudness and noise,

is a world full of peace,

I sit alone and I see,

is a world saturated with beauty,

I sit quietly and I sigh,

seems the world will get me high,

sky gets lost in the horizon,

and the waves roar as evening turns on,

And I feel angels would come soon,

take me to heaven in this monsoon,

as the drizzles of blessing start to fall,

I wonder's if its my heaven's call,

in a dilemma of heaven or reality,

I forget for a while, you are far away from me..