A weekend trip to the Land of the Thunder Dragon

These days it takes less than three hours of driving to get to Bhutan from Guwahati, yet I had never been there. So this weekend, Prabin da, Manjushree bou and I set off to Sangrup Jhonkar, which was supposed to be a very pretty place in the Bhutan hills. And since we wanted to make the most of the two days on hand we decided to take a long detour to Sangrup Khonkar and go via the scenic spot of Daragaon on the Diring river beyond Mushalpur and Nikashi. Here is the account of our trip.

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A dark week that only got darker...

Has it happened to you too? Everything is fine, till suddenly one by one, bad and worrying things start piling up, and before you know it, you are neck deep in sad and painful things....everywhere you look there is trouble lurking... and when you shut your eyes the only colour you see is black...

Over time some problems get resolved, but then new ones take their place... the general darkness takes a while to lift...

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My personal journey: existential questions

Last of the seven part story about my life in Germany and in India

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Civilizational markers

In part six of the seven part series, I write about the cultural scene in Wuerzburg, what I enjoy doing while here and also what it means to me. 

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Easter festivities in Wuerzburg

In part 5, I write about the expereince of again being in Germany in spring, after a gap of a few years.

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Handwork in Germany/India

The second full day in Germany, handwork musings

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Indologists and friendship

The first full day in Würzburg after getting back. Anna calls, Cornelia drops by..

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Geeting used to being in Germany again

The first few hours after getting back to Germany this spring...

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Baas Terwiel on Nirmal Prabha Bordoloi

My Guru in Göttingen, Baas Terwiel's translation of six poems by Nirmalprabha Bordoloi, along with a short Introductory Note. The text that Baas wrote in 1980 to contextualize the poems is a page from the cultural history of Assam and was meant as an introduction to Assam and its rich literature, as well as to the poet Dr. Bordoloi, for foreign readers of that time. The entire text is published below with the six translated poems embedded in it, without any alteration, along with a photo of the Bordoloi family that Baas had taken then. 

A version of this piece appeared in the Thumbprint Magazine:

https://thumbprintmag.in/single_post.php?id=607

[The Assamese originals of the last four poems are also given (thanks to another poet Kushal Dutta). I will be grateful if some reader can give me the originals of the first two.]

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Some days are charmed

If something goes right first thing in the morning, or there is some good news when you first look at your messages, then there is bound to be more good news before the day is over. Yesterday was one such day.

It began with the news that Apurba Sharma Sir had agreed to be the Chief Guest of the next 'Bhal Khoboror Din' on 1 Jan. 2024. He had kept us waiting for nearly two weeks and we were a little worried about how we would find another speaker in case he turned down our request. So his confirmation came as a huge relief. And I told myself -- today could be my Bhal khoboror Din -- and that is what it turned out to be.

First I finished writing my travel blog that I had been working on for the last week. But I realised that we had no photos of the amazing claypot restaurant we had eaten in in Thanjavur. So I wrote to the owner. And low and behold, he replied almost immediately -- yes, he did remember 'the two brave ladies' [his words], and of course he would send me some photos of his restaurant once the lunchtime rush was over. And he did.

Next stop at the tailor, and contrary to usual practice, she had everything ready on time! How unusual! 

Nothing very big, but it is these small things that make so much of a difference.

I wsa dreading the next step as I was having trouble with a shop-tenant and had to go to the local police station to discuss what to do with the police. I had imagined they would make me wait and would be rude and brash as ever, but no, we did not have to wait and the person I spoke to was polite and helpful and gave me good advice. What a dream run I was having...

Once you have had it so good till mid afternoon, you imagine that your luck would slowly run out. So I was worried about driving to Kalakhetra in the evening to watch a play. The play, directed by the renowned Nayan Prasad and the text based on Dr. Bhaben Saikia's translation of the famous 'An Inspector Calls' by J.B. Priestley, was a real treat to watch. I am usually a little diffident about driving in the dark and about being able to park and reverse my car in crowded placed. But today everything worked nicely. The rest of it worked well as well -- there was not much traffic, we got a good parking space and also good seats, and the play itself was excellent. In the end it turned out to be a very pleasant outing with friends. 

I drove back towards Panchabati, and thought it best not to stop as it was getting late. But what was that -- I saw the shutter of the shop with the troublesome tenant open although it was past nine in the evening. What was going on? I stopped the car and went towards the shop. What could be happening? Maybe the defaulting tenant was back again and making trouble. But no, that tenant was not in sight. It was my caretaker and chowkidar; the tenant had given them the keys to the shop a little earlier, they had tried the keys and opened the shutters to check that everything was fine.  Then they proceeded to lock the shop with our own locks. The shop was ours again! So a problem that had persisted nearly all the time since Ma left was suddently over. The fellow had about 2 lakhs in rent still to pay, but at least the shop was back in our hands again. What wonderful news!

I was humming lightly as I drove back to Kharghuli. It was past nine-thirty, my normal bed-time. As I looked at my phone (which had been on silent all the while since the start of the play). There were three missed calls from Arupa Baidew. Was it too late to call back? I would take a chance. She received my call and told me that she had called only to tell me that she was dedicating her latest book to me! I did not know what to say...felt like crying in joy...

That was a description of a Bhal khoboror Din for me...

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