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The Kunduli Girl

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I was walking home from school Running along, skipping along Playing hide and seek In the deep jungle trails Loving their many secrets Chasing the dappled shadows The bag on my shoulders My meagre notes and books Forgotten in my wonder world A smile on my lips As I went hush hush after a squirrel ...Stepping on a twig Was the noise very loud? What did I hear? Was that more twigs breaking? Foolishly, still unconcerned As I spy the squirrel again, But not for long... They creep up Trample the mossy bed Chase away the sun's rays And give a howl of laughter So I know they are near With no place to go, No place to hide Have you seen hyenas Hunting sniffing playing with their prey I am the prey The bloody boots finally leave With my smile... hunger satiated Over my trodden bag, broken body That was not the end My halting story uttered Hunted, haunted, deserted My tale twisted, my virginity plundered Many times over I was a pariah, thrown...
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Brahmaputra - Deep and Immersive

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  A few days back we had a most defining and immersive experience on a cruise on the Brahmaputra. This was my third cruise across the mighty river in this region.   We started from Guijjan, a small hamlet near Tinsukia, at 7 am, in a small boat. Our destination was an area called Maili in the upper reaches of Brahmaputra where some wild horses had been sighted by forest people. The journey was supposed to take 4 hours.   During the rainy season, junglee horses move around, as their original settlement around the Dibru Saikhowa national park is flooded.   The Dibru Saikhowa is fed by the Brahmaputra and Lohit and Dibru and an interlaced galaxy of small and big tributaries. Our boatman informed us that we were going towards the Siang (or Dihang, pronounced as Dehing) River, another of those distributing and feeding tributaries that weave in and out of the main river. It was raining mildly and the boat ride itself was a joy and full of complexities from encounteri...
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A Bowl of Pakhala

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Come March, the people of Odisha have to start battling the high and dry heat of an early summer that kind of side steps over what is supposed to be “Basanta Rutu” or Spring season; a season supposed to buffer the summer and be mild, but which slyly gives the state a miss. Summer is all of a sudden upon us, before we have even packed away our winter clothes. We start feeling the departure of winter when the vegetables, fresh beet and carrots and cauliflowers and laukis and peas suddenly start looking dry and withered, then one day suddenly lose their taste. Then comes the loo, the dry wind that the river bed brings in during the mid-day, that is suffocating and all pervasive. Suddenly the swarms of mosquitoes disappear and you know that the temperature is hovering around the 40s mark. But, the real indicator, that Summer is here? The Pakhala . The dish whose images have started doing the rounds of social media in recent years, and so much so, apparently, a day has been dedicated to it!...
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