Borhomthuri

BORHOMTHURI 2014 Editorial Group: Chief Editors: Prachuryya Kaushik Sugata Siddhartha Goswami Borhomthuri14 team: Ujjal Nath Himangshu Bora Kalyanjyoti Chutia Saidul Islam Nupur Kalita Bandita Kalita Jitu Bezbaruah Tridip Das Devajani Borah Kamaljit Medhi Ilina Sinha Gauranga Phukan Chief Advisors: Ms. Padmaja Tamuli Faruque Aziz Design Team: Himangshu Bora Ujjal Nath Luna Phukan Bandita Kalita Baishalee Sonowal

MESSAGE

It gives me immense pleasure to learn that Posua Organizing Committee NIT Silchar is going to publish the 2nd Edition of their magazine Borhomthuri for the year 2014. I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.--- Albert Einstein. Everyone is bestowed with imagination and seek a platform to translate their imagination into creative wonders. I firmly believe Borhomthuri will provide that platform to all of us to strive towards deriving joy out of our creations. I wish the advent of spring brings with it vivid colours, new hopes and flush in positive energy into our lives. I express my heartfelt congratulations to the entire team of Posua and Borhomthuri for this accomplishment and wish them all success in bringing out the literary best in all of us. (Prof. N. V. Deshpande) Director NIT Silchar

MESSAGE

MESSAGE

I am extremely glad to know that the organising committee of Posua 2014 is all set to publish the 2nd edition of Borhomthuri a souvenir on this festive occasion. I believe the articles, poems and other write ups in the magazine will reflect our rich socio-cultural heritage and above all our diverse, yet unique identity. Spring is the season of new beginnings. Fresh buds bloom and animals awaken and the earth seems to come to life again. I am sure that the entire NITS Family is waiting eagerly to celebrate the advent of spring with all glitz and glamour. I invite all of you to come and rejoice this new beginning together. Come let us take some time out of our busy schedules and indulge in celebrating our vigour. I wish the entire team of Posua 2014 a grand success and hope that Borhomthuri 2014 will be successful to bring out the literary best in all of us. I convey my appreciation for this enduring endeavour and wish it a long life.

(Dr. A.K.Barbhuiyan) Dean, Students Welfare National Institute of Technology, Silchar

MESSAGE

MESSAGE

It gives me immense pleasure to know that students of NIT Silchar are going to celebrate Posua like the previous year. I am also happy to know that during Posua 14, the second edition of the souvenir Borhomthuri is going to be published. I strongly believe that through this souvenir, the students and staff of NIT Silchar will get ample opportunity to express their literary talents through articles and poems. I also feel that this endeavor on the part of the students will bring joy and happiness to all the people of NIT Silchar, irrespective of caste, creed, religion, faith and belief. Posua will certainly bring happiness to one and all, and provide a platform to sing and celebrate together and to rejoice in our unity. I wish Posua 14 as well as Borhomthuri a great success. Happy Rongali Bihu to one and all! (Dr. R. D. Misra) President, POSUA-2013 Professor Department of Mechanical Engineering

MESSAGE

Spring is an exuberance of new life, often coming after a long wait when everything seems dormant. It is a time of rebirth and new beginnings; a renewal of life and energy. It is a matter of great pleasure and pride that NIT Silchar is going to host Posua 2014 on 5th of April 2014 to celebrate the advent of spring. I am very happy to learn that like previous year the 2nd Edition of Borhomthuri- a Souvenir will also be published on this festive occasion.

Spring means manifestation of the best. Spring is youth of creation. Youth is spring of life. Spring means our hidden possibility gets manifested. I hope the souvenir will bring out the creative best in all of us and provide a platform to express our latent talents. I firmly believe that the souvenir will be able to showcase the rich literary grandeur of the students and staff members of the Institute. I would like to invite all of you to come and join us, feel rejuvenated and celebrate our souls youth.

I am very grateful to Dr. N. V. Deshpande, Director NIT Silchar for his enduring support to organize this event. I convey my sincere congratulations to all the Faculty members, Staff members and students of the Institute for their valuable support and contributions.

I would like to convey my heartfelt gratitude to the entire team of Posua and Borhomthuri for this opportunity to express myself. I wish the event a grand success.

I wish you all vigour, beauty, and above all, peace.

(Ms. Padmaja Tamuli) Faculty Advisor, Posua 2014

Assistant Professor Deptt. Of Humanities & Social Sciences

NIT Silchar

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From the Editors desk SUGATA SIDDHARTHA GOSWAMI B.Tech 3rd Year Civil Engineering Branch Assam has a composite culture which has evolved from the confluence of various traditions. The numerous tribes inhabiting this land provide it a unique identity that is not only multi-lingual but also multi-ethnic. Amidst such diversity the binding agent is its Bihu festival. The advent of spring is celebrated by a large number of ethnic tribes like Mishing, Karbi, Boro, Dimasa, Rabha, Tiwa, Garo, Jayantia, Khamti, Sonowal Kachari, Tai Phake or Phakial, Hmar, Kuki,Hajong, Mech and the tea-communities, among others.

Bohag Bihu signifies seed-time and it also ushers in the Assamese New Year. It has an alternative name Rongali Bihu or the bihu of merriment, being associated with youth, joy and mirth. Singing and dancing constitute the essential features of this springtime Bihu festival. The Bihu songs tread on themes of love and yearning and the dance performed by young men and women reflect youthful passion. We are happy to be able to present the second issue of Borhomthuri to our readers and we earnestly hope that we have succeeded in encapsulating the resplendent heritage of our culture. As the air is filled with the exhilarating beats of bihu dhol and the mesmerizing sound of pepa, the editorial team of Borhomthuri wishes you all a very happy Bihu, Baisakh Panchami and Pongal.

Posua14 organizing Committee

Patron: Prof. N.V. Deshpande Director, NIT-Silchar. Chief Advisor: Dr. A.K. Barbhuiyan Dean(S/W) Executive Committee: Mr. Jagganath Patro Dr. R.D. Misra Prof. Fazal A. Talukdar Prof. S. Baishya Dr. N.B. Dev Choudhury Vice President (Gymkhana Union Body) General Secretary (Gymkhana Union Body) Cultural Secretary (Gymkhana Union Body) Faculty Advisors: Dr. B.K. Roy Md. M. Ali Ahmed Dr. L.C. Saikia Dr. P. Barman Mrs. Madhuchanda Nath Md. Wasim Arif. Dr. K.N. Das. Mrs. Jupitara Hazarika. Dr.(Mrs.) Mausami Sen. Ms. Padmaja Tamuli President : Dr. P. Rajbongshi. Convener : Heerok Jyoti Hazarika Treasurer: Plaban Barman

Event Management: Akhim Jyoti Baruah Anurag Biswanath Champakjyoti Rajbangshi Khanin Talukdar Deepanwita Kalita Pranzil Gogoi Kooljit Das Jongki Hazarika Anurag Thakuria Gaurav Talukdar Infrastructure team: Smith Ghosh Jayanta Madhab Phukan Dhruba Pujary Porag Gogoi Himanshu Saikia Shekhar Doley Bedanta Deori Birjon Boro Parthajyoti Baishya Partha Pratim Saikia Raj Deka Navneet Goswami Dipankar Bhattacharya Ritwick Gogoi Ayan Saikia Raktim Sonowal Manas Sarma Anurag Thakuria Debabrata Saha Lakshmi Narayan Prasad Hospitality team: Abhishek Bezbaruah Souvik Ghosh Dwikul Jyoti Das Daisy Bora Pranzil Gogoi Tarif Anowar Hussain Nip Malakar Pranab Barman Bikiran Gogoi Bedantadeep Dutta Navarun Vasistha Pritam Sagar Buragohain Sanjeev Bora Anurag Mon Hazarika

Nayanjyoti Barman Nupur Ranjan Nath Tonmoy Deka Parshojyoti Phukan Gaurav Talukdar Nupur Kalita Chaitanya Bez Priyankush Baruah Porag Jyoti Borah Nipan Sarma Hemanga Saikia Shantanu Deb Jitu Bezbaruah Gautam Borpatra HironJyoti Kashyap Paran Baruah Trideep Das Dwaipayan Nobis Pulakesh Gogoi Dibyajyoti Changmai Pranab Bhowal Mukesh Mandal Dipjyoti Bania Naba Kumar Nath Publicity: Prabal Jyoti Das Bagish Phukan Devarshee Ranjan Bora Anish Nath Agni Gadiyaram Trinabh Dowerah Nitu Kumar Das Nayanjyoti Barman Bhawarnab Gautam Bikram Bezbaruah Priyanuj Sarmah Prakashjyoti Kalita Neeraj Baruah Naba Kumar Nath Divaj Jindal Madhujya Pegu Zojde Dev Barman Jyotish Saikia Marketing: Pranab Kumar Dawor Hazarika Shaban Barbhuiya

Contents

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6. ? 12

7. ) ( 13

8. 18

9. 22 10. : " " 24 11. 27 12. 30

13. 31 14. NIT 33

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16. 35 17. () 36

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20. 38 21. 39

22. - 39 23. 40 24. ,, 41

25. 41

26. 42

27. 43

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30. 45

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33. 46

34. Posua13: A celebration Mridu Pawan Uzir 47 35. SONOR AXOM Dwip Jyoti Goswami 48 36. Braveheart Adwitiya Borah 50 37. Discovering Oneself- My personal Experience Gaurab Dutta 56 38. Ramblings of a Pilgrim from A Distant Land Agni Gadiaram 57 39. The KERALA Connection Anil V. Mangalan, 59 Hashim Mohamad 40. EXPERIENCES IN ASSAM Anoop Dutta 61

Harsh Agarwal 41. The Art of Non-Conformity Anam Hilaly 62 42. KAZI-RANGA Maitrayee Dutta 64 43. MOTION Sugata S. Goswami 66 44. Promises Vinayak Agnihotri 67 45. Once my mother did Bhargav Bistirna 67 46. To my paramour Hritiz Gogoi 68 47. Priority of the call Gaurab Dutta 68 48. Time Will Pass Ashutosh Mishra 68 49. Partings dont always mean Goodbyes Anangsha Alammyan 69 50. Flavours of Assam Mandovi Borthakur 71 51. IOTA at Paramount School Abhisek Gupta 72 52. 74

53. 74

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55. - 77

56. 77

57. 78

58. 79

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Posua13 A celebration of tradition and harmony at NIT Silchar Mridu Pawan Uzir B.Tech 4th Year Civil Engineering Branch

Assam, a place crafted by natures own hands, is well known for its lush greeneries and versatile culture. And every time we speak about the Assamese culture, Bihu is the first thing that comes to our mind. Bihu is the national festival of Assam, bapoti hahon of every Assamese people. Among the three Bihus (namely Rongali Bihu, Kongali Bihu and Bhogali Bihu) celebrated in Assam, Rongali Bihu is the one celebrated with ardent fervour. As the nature rejuvenates itself in new shades of green, National Institute of Technology, Silchar welcomes spring in a grand style with Posua, the annual fest for the celebration of Bohag Bihu. Last year, NIT Silchar celebrated the 2nd edition of Posua with grand ardour and avidity. It was an effort to portray the beauty of Assamese tradition along with the cultural amalgamation of India in one unified stage. The name Rongali Bihu comes from the word rong which means colour and playfulness. Keeping the same spirit, Posua 13 started with a blast on 6th of April. The grand ceremony was inaugurated by flag hoisting at 9am in the morning in the presence of many esteemed faculties, students and people from all around. Following it, then came Angkuran, a sport competition for the small kids. It was a great sight indeed as small kids were playing in the ground, under the open sky, enjoying the very essence of this festival. Then came Sparkha (the drawing competition) and Rangdhali (the dance competition). Everybody participated with great zeal and enthusiasm. Post lunch, the events that followed were Pratidwani (the husori competition) and Bordoisila (the Bihuwati competition). Evening brought in more colours as the entire auditorium of NIT Silchar sparkled with lights and cheered audience. The stage was inaugurated by Dr. Abdul Karim Barbhuiya (Dean SW). Following that the 1st edition of Borhomthuri, the annual magazine of Posua was released by special guest Diganta Bora (SP, Cachar district) and Dr. Rahul Dev Misra (HOD, Mechanical dept.) The cultural night came into life with a lively Bihu dance performed by the small kids. It was followed by a fashion show depicting different attires of different community spread all across the North-East. Then came a splendid dance performance portraying the wonderful culture of Manipur and Mizoram. The spirit of Bihu was lifted up by a colourful dance by the girls of NIT Silchar. Portraying the concept of unity in diversity, the stage lightened up with the colours of different cultures of India. From North to South, from East to West, numerous cultures merged and shone like a rainbow as never before had such a blending of culture and tradition been unified on a single stage. But the main event was yet to start. The entire crowd got high with claps and cheers when the star of the night, Mr. Ranjit Gogoi stepped in with his troop. Mr. Ranjit Gogoi is an internationally acclaimed Bihuwa who performed across many countries all over the world. His recent achievement was his charismatic Bihu performance in London Olympics 2012. As he entered the stage the crowd hailed with an overwhelming spirit. A mystical aura took over as he and his group performed and the essence of Bihu was lifted to a whole new level. Everybody danced their sweat out until the last ounce of energy left in their body. Regardless of caste and creed, everyone blend in to a single herd, like different notes creating a beautiful piece of music. The show ended with a vote of thanks to the whole Posua 13 team headed by Prof Rahul Dev Misra. It was an unforgettable day in the history of NIT Silchar and an enchanting celebration of the Assamese spring festival Rongali Bihu. It was not just a celebration of traditional Assamese festival, but also an example of unification of various cultures with a string of harmony. A new era started with the celebration of Posua and it will grow bigger and better every year.


SONOR AXOM Dwip Jyoti Goswami B.Tech 2nd Year Electrical Engineering Branch One need not delve much into the history to find the origin of the word SONOR AXOM. This word has been extensively used by many politicians as well as common people in the recent history of Assam. But has Assam really become a state of that stature so that we can call Assam SONOR AXOM? Also the question lies in the fact that can only political parties and politicians make Assam a great state? An easy answer to this is NO. This is because as said by a celebrated writer Politicians only reflect what society thinks. Also has the relevance of the word SONOR AXOM been lost in recent years? The answer is surely no. But then what will make Assam SONOR AXOM. I think only we the people can make our state a great state, a state upon which not only other states of India but also other countries will look upon for every decision they take. At present people in Assam are not entitled to the basic facilities like education, electricity, good food leave aside facilities of better employment and far better health care services. But it is a fact of matter that Assam is producing very brilliant people. Celebrated journalist Arnab Goswami and eminent physicist Dr. Jitendra Nath Goswami are sons of Assam who have thrived in their respective fields. But the main problem is that Assam has not been able to keep her sons and daughters with her. In search of better opportunities people have been continuously migrating from Assam. I neither have the right nor do I want to discourage any one from taking up better opportunity outside Assam .Rather I want that my fellow Assamese should be able to grab better opportunities outside Assam. We often complain that we are neglected by the center or by the western part of our country in all aspects. We are not given special funds for development, no special schemes to develop railway transport, electricity supply, industries etc. We also complain the ill treatment meted upon our brothers and sisters in other parts of the country. But if we stop complaining for a moment and ask ourselves why anyone should be given a chance to neglect us, to insult us? Let some light be thrown upon the fact that at present the debt of Assam is more than 20000 crores of rupees which gives a per capita debt burden of more than 8000 rupees on each Assamese. The only solution to all these and many more problems cannot be only political. Also no one from somewhere else will come to repay our debt. One important solution lies in answers of some basic questions which we will have to ask ourselves like are we not capable of getting what we deserve by ourselves? Why cant Assam generate adequate amount of electricity so that we can feed other states with our power, apart from ourselves? Why cant Assam develop technologically so that others use technology developed in this part of India? Why cant we have some out of sight educational institutes which will attract talents from all over the world? Why cant Assam grow industrially and in agriculture so that we can increase our export? Why cant Assam generate enough revenue so that the center looks upon us during budget preparation? As said by Ambikagiri Ray Choudhary dhar jaru dhar bhai aru sabor somoy nai. sai thakote mukhot vorir kajol sai Now the time has come to do something. If we remain silent now our future will curse us. We are to ignite the spark within us to create an environment such that we need not demand special funds but provide funds for development of other parts of our country and not Assam but other states of India demands to increase


frequency of trains from their states to Assam in order to improve their connectivity to a developed, a successful and a great state. All these are possible if all the Assamese unite and work for the progress of Assam. We need to refix the social structure of our state. We need to leave behind our smaller selfish goals and work for a bigger goal, developing Assam. As I mentioned earlier we should take better opportunities outside Assam but we should not forget our roots (our motherland) and nurturing the roots can only help stems (us) to grow. We have tremendous potential but only that will not help us to progress. If hard work is accompanied with the tremendous potential, Assam will surely develop in all fields and also help India to move a step ahead on the path of development. To achieve this bigger goal everyone needs to do a bit more than their part. This will surely prove to be a little burden to our present but this will secure our future and surely our brothers and sisters need not go outside for better opportunities then. And that will be the most pleasing moment for every Assamese when our son or daughter can achieve what they desire and deserve, staying with their parents and this will make Assam truly THE GOLDEN STATE of India. So this Bihu lets take a vow to do a bit more than what we are to do to fulfill the dream of Khargeswar Talukdar, the first martyr of modern Assam and many more thereafter and make our Assam truly SONOR AXOM..


Braveheart Adwitiya Borah B.Tech 4th Year Computer Science & Engineering Branch She stood leaning against the kitchen door, watching her mother wash the dishes after the morning breakfast. She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. Though she had practiced this a thousand times before, she still couldnt gather up the guts to enact it. Ma? she whispered. Her mother looked up at her. What is it, Ananya? she asked. Ananya could feel her palms get sweaty out of the anxiety. Ma, theres something... something I need to tell you, she stammered. Yes, Im listening, he mother said, sounding concerned. Ananya twitched her toes and stared at the floor. Ma... actually... for the last two years... Hello Ananya! a voice startled her. It was him. Hello. Uncle. Ananya didnt look at his face. She didnt like to. Need some help with the dishes Maya? he spoke to her mother then. Its fine. Im almost done, her mother replied. Why dont you take a chair? Ill catch up with you in a minute. Ananya left the two of them talking and went to her room. Ever since her fathers death three years ago, Ananya has seen her mother struggle every day of her life to make ends meet. She wasnt too educated, having studied only till 12th standard. And the pension they received after her fathers untimely death was hardly enough to fulfil even half their needs. They needed another source of income and it was in the quest for this that they met Varun, who offered her mother a job in his factory. Though the salary was meagre, it helped them overcome a lot of lifes problems. Soon Varun became more than just a boss to her mother. They became friends and then started dating. With a twelve-year-old daughter to take care of, her mother had not expected to find romance in her life ever again. Varun was like sunshine after a long cold winter. One day, he came over to their house to baby sit Ananya when her mother had to go to her parents place. And thats when the first attack had happened. Ananya shivered at the very thought of it. That first time... She tried to brush away the memories from her head and concentrated on the Social Studies textbook open in front of her.

You have your final exams in a week! She reminded herself as she opened the chapter of Assam history. She sighed sadly. Life was hard enough without having to memorise dates, names of people and places. She was studying about the Ahoms, her own ancestors. She sometimes wondered if there was any person in history who she might resemble. After all, they had the same genes, the same blood running through their veins...


... and thus started the era which later came to be known as the black period of Assam history. When Laluk Sola Barphukan accepted the bait of the Mughals and agreed to hand over to them Guwahati, Assams fate was sealed. Give us Guwahati, and we will make you king is what they offered him. At that time, the person occupying the throne of Assam was a fourteen-year-old boy who was known as Loraa Roja (the boy-king) among the people. He was too young and naive to think for the kingdom and relied on the decisions of the Barphukan when it came to important matters. The boy could do nothing but watch helplessly as the Barphukan went on inflicting tortures on the kingdom. In order to make sure that none other than he himself could become king, he either mutilated or assassinated all the other royal heirs to the throne. The once flourishing and peaceful state of Assam was this going through its darkest times. And the people could do nothing but hope... a hope that someday, a knight will arrive to rescue them from the torturous regime of the Barphukan and restore the kingdoms lost glory. Studying, Ananya? a voice broke her concentration. She felt two cold hands rest not-so-gently on her shoulders. No. Not again! she told herself. Not again. But something did not let her speak up. She sat numb. Unmoving. Frozen. As if he had cast a spell on her to take over her senses. Her lips and throat turned dry and two tear drops flowed down her cheeks. It was the same thing that happened every day. Every damn day. He moved his hands from her shoulders down to her breasts. Ananya clenched her fists tight. So tight that her hands began to tremble. But that did not stop him from pinching and groping her tender body. He moaned with pleasure. Your moms a whore, you know that? he whispered into her ears. The bitch would do just about anything for money! Her parched lips quivered nervously and a few drops of sweat began to appear on her forehead. They mixed with her tears and flowed down her wet cheeks. Look how scared you are... he said. Be brave like your mother, sweetheart. Youre young and beautiful. Unlike her! There are so many things left to explore. He pinned her against her chair and licked her all over her neck and chest. Her body stiffened. She wanted to fight against him, against her own helplessness. But her hands felt bound by all the fears that she had in her mind. He relished her frailness. He was clever too, remembering never to leave any marks on her body. So she had no proof. No courage to speak up either. She didnt know how long it had been when he finally left her room. But when he did, she realised, that like every time before, her soul had just died a little more inside. --------------- Ananya? Its late honey. Go to sleep. Her mother said, walking into her room with her eyes half closed. Its past midnight. I know Ma. Im not sleepy right now. Not sleepy?


Yeah. Im a little stressed out. Lots to study. And I just cannot figure out a way to remember all of this! she said, raising her hands in frustration. Her mother laughed. Calm down Ananya, she said. Which subject is this? History! Its crap! History is a nice subject. It isnt! There is too much to remember. Then remember it like a story... Here let me help you. Which part are you reading right now? Well... Some Gadadhar Singha... Oh! Thats my favourite part in Assam history! Mom? The story of Gadadhar Singha... Joymoti... My father used to narrate these stories to us when we were little kids. Ananya sat down on her bed facing her mother. Tell me the story, she said. Its a much better way to remember for sure. Her mother smiled and sat down cross-legged beside her. Okay... here goes, she said. And then she began narrating the story. When the Barphukan began mutilating and killing all the royal princes, there was one young man named Gadapani, also known as Gadadhar Singha, who wanted to turn the tables somehow. On the advice of his wife Joymoti, he fled and took shelter among the Konyak tribe in the Naga hills. There, he started building his army for war against the Mughals. Ananya nodded her head. History seemed simpler this way. Her mother continued: Unable to find Gadapani anywhere in the kingdom, the Barphukan summoned his wife Joymoti to his court. They questioned her about the whereabouts of her husband. But she stayed mum on the issue and didnt breathe a word. They harassed her and tried to frighten the naive young woman. But no, she firmly stood up to safeguard her husband. She knew that the Ahom kingdoms fate was in her own hands now... Ananya listened, her imaginations transported her to another world, another era. As her mother went on narrating the story, a movie started playing in her head. Tell us where your man is! the Barphukans voice thundered over the courtroom. Where has he taken shelter? I do not know your Highness, Joymoti promptly replied. Youre lying! he said furiously. Im speaking the truth. I do not know where my husband is. Listen, woman! he spoke. You better tell us where he is while were asking you properly. Or things will get nasty from here.


At this, Joymoti smiled. You can ask me in whichever way you wish to your Highness. My answer shall not change. I do not know where my husband is. Woman! the Barphukans eyes were red with anger. You are committing a big mistake! Youre going to regret this! Theres nothing I can really do about it your Highness, she said politely but firmly. I do not know where my husband is! At this, the Barphukan was enraged. Guards! Take her to the dungeons! he bellowed. Torture her till every bit of life has left her frail body. Do anything that you have to! I want Gadapani here, dead or alive! Following his orders, the guards took her away to the dungeons where they tortured her for days. They starved her, threatened her with dire consequences and when she still didnt budge, they resorted to extreme measures. They took her to the Jerenga pathar in Sivasagar district and tied her up to a Kotkora plant which was a thorny prickly tree. The men then inflicted inhuman physical tortures on her. Tell us where your husband is! Or well be forced to torture you further! they told her. Youre going to die if you do not speak up. At this, Joymoti looked up at them, smiled and spoke with conviction: I do not know where my husband is. Though her voice was just a whisper and her body too weak to stay upright, she did not give in to her torturers. This angered the men further and they increased the intensity and brutality of the assault. When Gadapani heard of the fate of his wife, he came to Jerenga Pathar disguised as a saint and urged his wife to reveal his whereabouts. But Joymoti refused to do so. You arent ready yet, she told him. You have to build your army first. You have to overthrow him. I have always dreamt of a beautiful Assam free from the atrocities of the Barphukan. And only you can make that dream a reality. You do not have to go through this, Joymoti. You do not deserve to face this because of me, Gadapani implored her to change her mind. This is not just for you. This is for my kingdom. Failing to talk Joymoti into giving up the fight, Gadapani returned to Nagaland and restarted training his army. After facing the brutal tortures for fourteen days, Joymoti finally succumbed to her wounds and breathed her last on 27th March 1680. Gadapani stayed in exile for two years after that. Bit by bit, he built his army and prepared them for invading and occupying Assam. At that time the political and administrative scenario of the Ahom kingdom had become very weak and patriotism among the masses had dwindled to such an extent that many sided with the Mughals who were slowly pushing their frontier eastward. Gadapani re-took Guwahati from them and established a strong rule of blood and iron over the state. He restored the lost glory of the kingdom and won the hearts of the people during the fourteen years of his rule. After his death his elder son succeeded him and at that time the splendour of the Ahom kingdom reached its zenith!


In the midst of all this, Joymotis sacrifice was never forgotten. Gadapani and Joymotis son Lai a.k.a. Rudra Singha built the Joysagar Tank in Sibsagar in 1697 in memory of his mother. It is believed to be the biggest man-made tank in India. Without Joymoti, Assam would have been under the Mughal rule for a long time and Ahom history would have been a completely different chapter today. Ananya listened, wide-eyed, to the amazing tale of this brave woman. She was awed at the valour and courage of the simple woman who did not bow down to the gruesome tortures meted out to her. Shes a hero, she said when she found her voice back. Yeah. She is, her mother replied. So brave. I dont think I would have lasted that long. Never. Her mother chuckled when she heard this. I hope you never have to face such a thing. And besides, they say bravery runs in the blood of us Ahoms. Im sure youll prove this to be true. Ananya looked away from her mother when she heard this. Bravery running in her blood? What would her mother say if she ever came to know what a coward her daughter has been all this while? Its so hard to be brave, isnt it? Ananya said, lost in her own thoughts. Yes, it is. The path of the courageous is always full of obstacles. There will be people pointing fingers at you, accusing you, doubting you, your credentials and your capabilities. Never let these deter you from this path. Always firmly stand up for what you believe is right. Ananya smiled. Her mothers words reverberated in her mind again and again. There is a kotkora plant right outside our compound right? she asked. Yeah, there is. Why did you ask that? Ananya smiled again. Nothing, she said. Just feeling inspired tonight. --------------- Two days later, her uncle Varun came into her room again: the same lustful hunger, the same malicious eyes staring at her from head to toe. Ive missed you sweetheart, he said in his cold cruel voice, sliding a finger down her face. Ananya stared at her feet and said nothing. The hand in her pocket quietly switched on the voice record button in her cell phone. You are such a pretty little slut born to one ugly bitch, he spoke as he ruffled her hair. Ananya gritted her teeth, her other hand going under the pillow and grabbing tight her other weapon. He brought his face close to hers and nibbled her ears. Ananya squinted. Why do you do this to me? she asked him. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. Why do I do this? he asked and laughed aloud. I do this, sweetheart, because no one else will. Nobody is going to marry the daughter of a well known whore like your darling mother. You should be grateful to me.


My mother is a good woman, Ananya said, her voice slightly louder. What? he asked. He sounded angry. What did you say? I said, my mother is a good woman! her voice was firm. He gritted his teeth and grabbed her hair tighter. How dare you speak up? he seethed. You dirty little slut! How dare you! Ananya felt the weapon under the pillow. She tightened her grip on it. Her breathing was heavy and she could feel her heart beat fast against her chest. She stared at him furiously. He was suddenly taken aback by her angry look. Wh... what? he fumbled. He was scared. She brought out her hand from under the pillow and hit his face with something. He yelled in anguish. You bitch! he screamed as his right eye started bleeding profusely. She went after him, ready to smash his face again. He staggered backwards and then ran out of the room as fast as he could. She stood at the door of her room, watching him run away like a scared little animal. She revelled in this moment of triumph that she experienced. She felt proud. Alive. She smiled at the weapon that she carried in her hands- a branch from a Kotkora plant, its thorns now bloodied with her conquest. A scene from the movie Joymoti, the first Assamese movie, released in 1935


Discovering Oneself- My personal Experience Gaurab Dutta B.Tech 2nd Year Mechanical Engineering Branch In the journey of discovering ourselves, we always stumble upon the unexpected. Its strange but true that most of us die as a stranger to oneself. Inhibiting our desires to that of the bondages of love and society, we lead a life of hypocrisy and pretence. Philosophy tells us to develop a new dimension for thinking and analyzing things. However, deep thinking results in a pessimistic attitude. We tend to overlook the beauty inherited in simplicity. Great scholars have penned their thoughts about life and its purposes. I, as a layman will never dare to enter their territory. But one question always lingers in my mind. Are we here to digest the beauty around us, feel the emotions which make us human or set in the quest for discovering the ultimate truth? And then I realize that such a question is a paradox in itself. The ambiguity in the rationality of the human mind only randomizes our thoughts and leads us nowhere. So every ending is as confusing as the beginning. Or is it a matter of perception? These questions fill our minds at times of loneliness, during periods of emotional crisis. We may not contemplate the facts but our mind consciously or sub-consciously are filled with such dilemmas. Then where does the unexpected lie? The answer is simple-in the journey itself. Yes, it is the journey itself which shows us the mirror of who we are and what we want in life. And this mirror is no materialistic entity but a human being of blood and bones. The truth lies within us and this truth can only be unearthed by someone who has known us from a very close proximity. We often tend to overlook small details, details which have larger impacts and therefore the reclusive approach to self-discovery leads only to doom. The fanciful word Renunciation holds little water today and the biggest truths are faced only in the journey we make with those few souls who matter to us the most. It is always in togetherness and never in loneliness that we get solutions to our mundane problems. As put by the great Mathematician John Nash: I've always believed in numbers and the equations and logics that lead to reason. But after a lifetime of such pursuits, I ask: 'What truly is logic?' 'Who decides reason?' My quest has taken me through the physical, the metaphysical, the delusional -- and back. And I have made the most important discovery of my career, the most important discovery of my life: It is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found.


Ramblings of a Pilgrim from A Distant Land Agni Gadiaram B.Tech 4th Year Electronics and Instrumentation Branch My Grandma used to say, Assam was the safe haven for burdened souls. People who couldnt be understood by the narrow-minded society. People who couldnt understand themselves and People whose actions were a taboo among the Civilized folk. All these people just packed their things and set for Brahmaputra Valley evading treacherous roads and menacing terrain. At the banks of the mighty river, even the wickedest minds would get peace and the determined would get competence. Few people returned from the Land of black Magic and they would be feared and worshipped. This was the story running in my mind when I had to step in Silchar, supposed to be a popular meeting place of all the condemned souls, a Tortuga on land. So magnificent to the knowing but only a dustbin for the unworthy. I marched into the unknown territory, alone, silent but determined to unearth the secrets of the mystic land. The first element of the Assam which caught my attention was Music. I was all ears for Zubeen Garg, a true magician of the highest order. Then I was introduced to the magnificence of Sri Bhupen Hazarika, a legend. To receive such admiration from the masses is only possible for godly people. Among with all the people around me, I silently wept his passing onto heaven. Then came my moms favorite, Xile Xile a song which can be compared to a desert rose, stronger than the harsh desert and is as beautiful as any of its multi-colored siblings and a solace in the eternal desert. Then I came to know the brilliance of a rising star, Papon da. His songs are so captivating that you will feel weightlessness in your legs. It was a lifetime memory to watch him years later. Apart from music, the Assamese language, due to its Hindi connection made my life easier, but Bengali with its boisterous history intrigued me. And also, I saw a near demonic charm in the girls. The way they held their heads high made me stand up and acknowledge them. The knowledge of their superior appearance and a skill to use it to their advantage made me wary of their presence. Never in my life, had I seen so many predators in one place. Later came another hypnotic power called as Bihu. The simple and synchronized movement of hips and hands with swirling moments can take you to a trance like state. I will always cherish witnessing the grace of Ranjit Gogoi and Co. in my after years. Telugu songs in a marriage procession in Silchar, made me proud for my mother tongue, the sweetness of the ripe pineapples took me to the doors of heaven and the heroics of Lachit Borphukhan became the stuff of my dreams. And the people, what can I say about these touched souls, not a single intent of malice in their hearts. Some crude in their appearance but humblest in their mannerism. Boisterous Comedians, Talented Singers, Gifted Artists, Supercool Photographers, Powerful Orators and Brilliant Technocrats and simple people who would share a joke with you, people who make your life what it is.


Being thousands of kilometers away from the place I called my Home made me edgy but the environment around me was enough to calm my nerves and look at life with a new perspective. I first felt the power of being with like-minded people. I could understand the energy of the masses which can bring down mighty governments and trash melancholy tyrants. Then by His good grace, I could taste some lovely Assamese cuisine especially sweet dishes. What a delicacy they are! Even a mental picture of pitha and narikollaru gives me a mouthwatering. Then also I got to know the solace of the Assamese Gogona a wonderful Instrument. Just a few minutes of its music is enough to vent out all the negative energy and fill yourself with positive thoughts. Then I heard people mentioning Bananas and Hair a lot! The ingenuity of these words to emphasis all the emotions in the human speech made them my favorite words to tinker with. Then I started observing people around me more closely. I recognized a facial feature. The narrow eyes, high cheekbones, healthy hips, interesting hair and glowing skin and splendid skin color. I didnt know humans existed in these combination as well. I came across a spectacular array of characteristics, the viciousness of a Snake to the coolness of the moon, from the warm hug of the morning sun to the chill of a howling wind, each and every emotion known to mankind is personified into a person around me. This allowed me to experiment with my own feelings and visualize the results right away. This allowed me to do a natural selection of all the character straits which improved my personality. Meantime, I was introduced to the greatest vice of the humans, Racism. Grouping of people based on their appearance rather than their personality. What a painful time it was, even the friendly eyes had a hidden malice underneath their charming smile. It taught me to walk on the razor edge not like a lion or a tiger but like a snail. Slow but Steady. No flamboyance but surety of a success. An antidote to neutralize the poison of negativity infused into you by the wretched world. In meantime, I stumbled upon a smoky shortcut to salvation. A place where a mongrel of people live in perfect harmony enriching each other with an aurora of experiences and memories to revisit and rejoice upon. A splendid achievement by humanity. Now, as my 4 years journey into the wonderland comes to an end, I have a myriad of happy and sad moments to brood upon. Lost friends and dreams to ponder upon and friendships to remember forever. All these experiences equipped me with the confidence and knowledge to deal with the innumerable situations to achieve ones targets. It taught me to believe in myself and stand up for the people I care about. As my stay here ends, I go back with a purpose and people to share my happiness and the strength to conquer the world. Hope your stay here, in Assam and in NIT Silchar is as adventurous as mine.


The KERALA Connection Anil Varghese Mangalan, Hashim Mohamad M Tech, Design & Manufacturing Mechanical Engineering Department Dude, I want you to write an article about Kerala and the deadline is 15th said one of our beloved seniors, Faruque. I was walking back to hostel sulking about the increased number of special classes that we Design & Manufacturing, M.Tech, Mechanical students had to attend that week. And that is when Faruque told me to write this article. So, I replied Sorry man, I have a paper to finish this weekend. in a bid to escape from this task. The truth is I had nearly finished the paper and all that was remaining was some polishing work. But it so turned out that the deadline was quite flexible and anyway I ended up telling that Of course, I will. To talk about your homeland one might have a million things to say and would be in a dilemma where to start, I also felt the same. If I have to talk about Kerala, I cannot miss the 580 km stretch of coast in which lies a diverse landscape ranging from coconut fringed beaches, wildlife reserves, mountain spice plantations and a maze of soothing backwaters. Again after a brief thought, one thing got struck in my mind How can I omit Keralas monsoon?!While I was intensely thinking about what to think there comes the grand entry of Arun a.k.a. sneerer, do i need to say more about him? I dont think so, the name says it all! Till now i just had to deal with my own stupid thoughts, and now it is added up by one more. I tried to act seriously in front of him, so I asked him what I should write about Kerala. Then he started sneering as always and he is worried about only one thing: food. And he told Its lunch time dude!! From there we went on straight to mess with our friends, some of them Keralites. Sandeep, the one and only karate man with an orange belt from 2013 M.Tech Mechanical batch of NIT Silchar, whom we call Sandy on his face and Freak-man on his back, was sitting in front of me. He started dipping his chapathi into that thin characterless dal curry and said to everyone The mess really need to learn how to use spices. Thats when I had this intense desire to eat some tasty spicy food. Coming from the land of spices has its own disadvantages. The first one is that we Keralites are so much used to savouring those spicy food to an extend that food from the rest of India doesnt make much sense to our taste buds. When I say spices I mean just not the chilly and clove. There are so many different varieties in Kerala that most of us, except for those experts in cooking, know them only by their shape or colour. The second disadvantage is that every meal gives us an intense desire to hunt for a restaurant that serves some good Kerala food and this hunt have caused serious economic disaster almost every month. By the time I got through those nostalgic moments, everybody else had finish their lunch and I gobbled up my lunch in a hurry. On the way to wash hand Arun sneered If there is no water, there is always dal to wash hand., since empty water tank was a recurring problem in our hostel and dal had always more water than in our tank. In the afternoons it is a usual thing for us to sit together and discuss various topics. That day the topic of discussion was whether the genie in Arabian Nights can come out of a pepsi bottle rather than a magic lamp. This pepsi bottle was a hypothetically magical pepsi bottle. As the discussion was heading nowhere, we heard a dejected voice guyz when are we going to Mizo? That was none other than Adheesh aka Shifu, named after his Chinese style moustache. The whole discussion is now shifted to planning the trip, but it really made me to wonder about


the house boats and backwaters of Kerala. The culture and traditions, coupled with its varied demographics, have made Kerala one of the most popular tourist destinations in India. As i was thinking more on tourism and the achievements Kerala have made so far, I found that National Geographic's Traveller magazine names Kerala as one of the "ten paradises of the world" and one among the "50 must see destinations of a lifetime". Travel and Leisure names Kerala as "One of the 100 great trips for the 21st century". In 2012, it overtook Taj Mahal to be the number one travel destination in Google's search trends for India. Kerala's beaches, backwaters, mountain ranges and wildlife sanctuaries are the major attractions for both domestic and international tourists. In the meantime Shifu had started banging everyone with his weapon (Adheesh jokes). In fact he has given a new dimension to the infamous PJ (poor jokes). In the middle of that heated discussion came in Dinkar whom we affectionately call as Drinker even though, to our great disappointment, wont even smell an open bottle of beer. He was carrying a big plastic cover filled with various packs of colours. Thats when I remembered that we have a Holi to prepare for. Its time to stock colours which will serve as ammunition for the ultimate battle of colours. But thinking of Holi inadvertently bought the cultural celebration of Kerala into my mind. Like festival of colours we have a festival of flowers and it is called Onam. Onam is a harvest festival of Kerala which started in ancient times and has still survived. It is one of those few festivals which is celebrated with a number of cultural elements. The legend behind this festival is of a Asura king named Mahabali. He was revered throughout Kerala for his fair rule and the prosperity that he bought to the land. It is on Onam day that he is allowed to visit his rightful kingdom of Kerala after being sent to the underworld by the jealous Gods. So as to welcome him, we Keralites create beautiful flower carpets, sing traditional song and prepare that very tasty vegetable feast with thirteen to thirty curries called onasadhya. Thinking about Onam bought those beautiful memories from my home town where we celebrate this festival with my family. While I was immersed in those wonderful nostalgic moments of Onam and my family, I heard that very familiar voice out of nowhere. What the pulihara are you thinking about?Dont ask me what pulihara means as Im still researching on that. I immediately recognised that the voice belonged to Mr Vijay Kotapati, who doesnt like his surname and because of which I always make it a point to call him Mr. Kotapati. I told him what I was thinking about and he asked What is there to write about that bitter guard shaped Kerala? . I started thinking again. What should I tell him? About our literacy rate which is much higher than the national average? Or about our Human Development Index which is as much as that of Japan? Or about the life expectancy and the infant mortality rate in Kerala which are comparable to international standards? Or should I write about our sex ratio which is the only one in India with more girls? Or about any of the above described topics? But before I could finish he said I know there is no pulihara about Kerala. I smiled, partly because I still dont know the meaning of pulihara and partly because he doesnt know anything about Kerala that I knew. At the end of the day, when we all sat together for another round of potato and dal, I still hadnt had a clue on what to write about Kerala. The entire day was filled with nostalgic moments about my state and I still didnt know what to write. And i still dont know what to write. Maybe you have figured that out by now. If I get an idea about what to write about my state I will definitely write next year. Signing off,


EXPERIENCES IN ASSAM It has been almost three years since I came to this amazing place: Assam. Though I had visited India many times before, NIT Silchar happened to be my very first destination in Assam. But then again, I wasnt new to this place or its people. My father had spent years of his life in Assam; and through the many stories that my father had narrated to me about his adventures in its hilly terrain I had indeed fallen in love with this place even before I had come here. I had heard the song O mur apunar desh (O my endearing motherland) before, and after coming to Assam I felt that this song describes the place most beautifully. The lush greenery, the hills and valleys, coupled with the amazing weather makes it a breathtaking delight. I particularly love the rainy days in Silchar. The thing that amazes me the most is the hospitality and generous nature of the Assamese people. Right from my first day in here, I have met wonderful people who have made my stay here even more beautiful. In spite of being from a foreign country, I feel completely at home here. Another thing that I love about Assam is its folk dance, the mesmerizing Bihu! After a little research, I had come to know that the word Bihu actually comes from two words. Bi means to ask and Hu means to give. So this dance form actually represents the very benevolent and caring attitude of the Assamese people. Ask me what i love about India the most?Its Assam.. I have just another year left in here. And when I go, I wont be leaving with just a B.Tech degree in hand, but a collection of some delightful memories to be cherished forever and friendships that shall remain this strong till the end of time. Anoop Dutta B.Tech 3rd Year Electronics & Communication Engineering Branch

When I got selected for Btech in NIT Silchar, I hardly had a clue about where it was on the

map of India. Questions were flooding from all around about why going so far? Its like crossing the breadth of country! It was hard to explain that it was NIT, not a local engineering college and was worth it. As far as Assam was concerned, all I knew that Dispur was the capital and it was famous for tea and kaziranga thanks to general knowledge classes of school. I was not sure about how I will absorb the new culture and environment which will unfold. But it was exciting to think about it. When I entered Silchar, I was awestruck by the beauty of campus. Four years back, it was not the way it is now since the construction process was not this rigorous. It was all lush green, ponds were plentiful and every evening, the sky used to get colored with various hues fusing into each other. It was mesmerizing and that was the reason I chose this backdrop for my second book too. Being in Assam gave me an opportunity to be with people with varied background and live with them. To understand the new culture, new festivals, new languages and embrace them and become a part of it. I still remember that in my sisters wedding, me and my friends were doing Bihu on the beats of Punjabi dhol and guests were going crazy. But we were enjoying it completely. It had become a part of our own individuality. I dont know where life will take me from here, but coming to Assam is an experience I will never forget!

Harsh Agarwal B.Tech 4th Year

Mechanical Engineering Branch


The Art of Non-Conformity Anam Hilaly B.Tech, 4th sem Electrical Engineering Branch

"One cannot accomplish much by swimming with the mainstream. Hell, even dead fish can do that." ~ Kinky Friedman "What am I worth?" At some point in our lives, we all are going to be haunted by this one big question. And from then on, our lives become a quest to find an appropriate answer. This journey, this search for enlightenment, divides all of humanity into two distinct sects. The first being the fatalists, the ones who believe they are powerless when faced with the whims of fate. The ones who believe that their lives are meant to be led according to what has been "written". Everything in their view is ordained and what will happen must happen, irrespective of whether we will it or not. They regard man as an automation, the mere plaything of a superior power. Now, it is impossible to try and talk about God without offending anybody, but I'm certain he is no dictator; because if he were, he would have created us without giving us a brain capable of making decisions on our own. Like I said, there are two sects. The second comprises of those who believe in creating their own destinies. For such is the forte of their will, joined to the supreme, that they believe they can achieve anything. So which one of these is more salubrious? Can we really steer our sheep over the ocean of time, or are we condemned to drift till the last of our days? The answer is clear. Man is man and master of his own fate; and if he isn't, he has no one to blame but himself. Fate, destiny... these are big words. What we don't realise is that they're overrated; and by the time we finally grasp that, it usually is too late. I get it... fear of the unknown and all. We are humans, after all, and this is completely natural. But it isn't the giant monster living in the dungeons that we perceive it to be. The reason we fear going astray is our need for conformity. We are not individualistic. We always like to be able to relate to something. We all feel the need for acceptance. We live in a world where we are easily discouraged. We do jobs that we don't want to do, spending much of our time just to make the rest miserable. We grow up seeing people around us who live their lives like they are set pieces on a chessboard, just waiting to get obliterated. Life is short, art long, opportunity fleeting, experience treacherous, judgement difficult. Hippocrates said that. And how right he was! It takes a lot of courage to try and break free from the monotony of outset course of life. But at some point, we will need break free from the shackles. And we don't have too much time for that. We cannot afford to lollygag our time waiting for an angel to descend from the heavens and guide us. We have the power over our own destinies, and so it becomes of utmost importance that we make the most and best of ourselves. It is indeed sad to see a man waste his opportunities, living a life that he never wanted to live only because he was too afraid. There is nothing we are more anxious to keep than life, then why do we take so little pain to keep it well? We ruin


ourselves more than others destroy us. We lower ourselves, because we think we are not good enough to deserve all things bright and beautiful. Greatness is not a DNA strand. Nobody was "sent" to to something. We were all born the same way. We're all going to die the same way. What we do with our lives in between is what defines us; how well we find our niche. All we need to know is our beliefs are our own; they are unique. We have to trust them. Whatever we do, we have to put our life into it. Face the worst bravely and fight for the best. Go out, breathe. Live a little. Maybe the world really is your oyster. Pitha


KAZI-RANGA (This science fiction has been inspired by the etymology behind the name of the renowned wildlife sanctuary) Maitrayee Dutta B.Tech 2nd Year Electrical Engineering Branch RECORD: year 2095- The universe balances itself in a rather mysterious manure ; it traverses along zillion dimensions which are beyond the scrutinizing power of even a trans-humanist! It is said that if gaze upon the starry nights as contemplated by Van Gogh himself you are actually looking into the past....The year 2095 brought back the long lost hideous memories in the chronological testimony of humanity-the ice age of the Pleistocene era when Sabre-toothed tiger ruled the lands clad with permafrost. The entire Scandinavian nations and the American continents submerged beneath layers of hardened innocuous looking snow icicles treacherously juxtaposition against each other. But the deity Gaia for some rather strange reasons kept the Indian subcontinent warm even though its inhabitants had committed in numerous grotesque crimes through the contemporary decades. In the present tenebrous holographic world, ethic wars brought about an impetus to fortify all the districts in order to protect the endemic creatures and tribes of the region. The most notable of them was the nagaon-golaghat subdivision-the lands which could be compared to the fair hands of an angel with blood pumping through the varicose veins-the mighty Brahmaputra. Amidst this backdrop, a great Lazarus taxist (derived from the term lazarus taxus meaning rediscovery of a species which was once thought to be extinct) went about by the name Kazi. A few years ago he had received unforeseen fame for his theory of compression of voids which expatiated that there are many voids in the lifetime of human being who lived down the centuries. Times like these are not used to do anything productive so its removal wouldn't cause any repercussions in the flow of history. This removal of voids allowed a person to go back into the past by few years. With the advent of the year 2020, the great Indian vulture got erased from the surface of earth thanks to humans being scrupulous enough to use excess Diclofenac which remain stranded in the bloodstream of the carcasses. Travelling back in time he successfully brought back their DNA samples to the dystopian society and obliterated the curse of absence of the scavenger. As a little kindergarten he was hugely inspired to recreate when his mother narrated a science journal article expounding how scientist had breaded a 32,000 year old plant silene stenophylla which was unwittingly kept alive by being cryopreserved beneath the layers of ice. The lands of midnight suns loss were the gain of the oriental lands. Several migratory birds flocked to sun kissed backwaters of the Brahmaputra which had been formed by the seismic activities of the region as nordmanns greenshank, ferruginous and baers pochard duck , medley of adjutant ,pelicans pirouetted in its waters. Kazi had made it a point to stroll along its embankments... on this particular day it appeared that all the birds from each and every nook and corner of the world had decided to conglomerate upon the salar de uyuni like clear waters for their clandestine rendezvous. The sight was enough to make a teetotal completely intoxicated. Passerines sang the vespers reminding all the good things have to come to an end. Then out of the blue an adorable hispid hare with lacerated paw laid down on its hollow as its long ears twirled down in pain. Kazi


could do nothing except feel pity for the creature; it was as if the gods had listened to his silent prayer that a maiden appeared. She removed her hair ribbon and meticulously tied it around the wound to prevent it from dying due to exsanguinations. Though kazi had seen her for the first time, he knew his soul had known and waited for her to silently walk into his life.... He knew he had a lot say as if he could drop dead in the next very minute but all he heard himself say oh lady, what is your name? Ranga came back the reply. It is said that gods had created humans as creatures with four legs and hands, this scared them into believing that this creature could become tyrannical enough to dethrone them so he split them into two halves and so every man lives the life of a wayfarer looking for his other half ; kazi now knew he had found his other half. A few months later, he pulled up his spirits to ask for her hand. To which she replied- I am sure you are aware of the catastrophe theory, if Franz Ferdinand had somehow escaped the assassination attempt then maybe the term world war would have never entered into our dictionary. If we get married overlooking our racial differences, if would be enough to trigger another cold war and yet my heart tells me to rise all above this!! Kazi smiled as he already had a brainchild weaving inside his head. Within a week they collected all their respective paraphernalia and together they walked forward never to look back again into the interstice of the time web which was created by annihilation of the void in the lives of the populace who lived in early 21st century right at the dawn of the winter solstice(as it marks the beginning of a new era) until they reached the 20th century when all the Indians irrespective of their caste and creed rose against one common enemy.......

One horned rhinos in Kaziranga


MOTION Sugata Siddhartha Goswami B.Tech 3rd Year Civil Engineering Branch Wonder why We hasten forward When we could just recline and revel? Why must we Create diversion When joining the crowd is so convenient? What are we after So consumed by desire Working earnestly, breaking new grounds! Crests, troughs revolving, rotating earth Every movement that carries some purpose, The purpose is change Of seasons, days into nights Of thoughts and perceptions. We live out our time We perish The game remains the same, the players change. We are here to make a mark To create legacy In the evolving but always existing realm. You come, you see You conquer and you leave. Let not inaction grip you Your vision be pristine clear Find yourself after being lost in the vagaries of life.


Promises Vinayak Agnihotri B.Tech 2nd Year Electronics & Communication Engineering Branch We thrive on promises, breed, Promises that enclose the circle of life The impatient bubble that gives in To a loveless bosom Painless lives gutted on a murdering plinth Lovely minds anaesthetized Behind blood-stained curtains And promises, that distant escape, Bleeding to light the way Promises to sing while they dance The proletarians painted red In a barely fascist neverland On an illuminating path to oblivion For a painted life will relinquish As, You fall in love With the promise of being loved You study With the promise of upliftment You befriend With the promise of a good time You work With the promise of a fruit You make mistakes With the promise of forgiveness You believe With the promise of belief And you live With the promise of fulfilment Let promises keep you alive Let promises make sweet love to you So that on a cold, devastated evening When only remorse knocks on your forehead And a wasted life is the only beautiful remembrance The promise of dying Keeps you warm........

Once my mother did Bhargav Bistirna B.tech 1st Year Civil Engineering Branch I beg in the lanes Of my lonely past, The sparks I lost In the rising dusk. Crowds of mechanic skills Pass every while, But I search for the one, That fed me Drops of her dying thirst. Every new day Bring no shine to me Only the rings of Clicking British annas. Every new night Brings no fear to me, Only haunts of Forgetting her vivid smiles, Her smiles of agony. No one is fond of me, Only darkness and its kins. Nor the silent doves Bother about me, Or else they had once stop When I cried, Consoled when the scars pained, Just as once my mother did


To my paramour Hritiz Gogoi B.Tech 3rd Year Civil Engineering Branch If you want to forget me dear... Then, Wait for the winter to come So that the rivers dry up Exposing their muddy bed And let the petals fall from flowers And thorns to grow instead Let the tears dry up And let all the memories fade Let yourself hate All the moments we had And show that you can move ahead Without pain, without being dead Only then my love, I will let you to forget me.

Priority of the call Gaurab Dutta B.Tech 2nd Year Mechanical Engineering Branch These roads lead to the busiest streets Traders paradise where emotions sell; I know my trade, my things to sell. A determined self with profits to make, Pieces of bread to earn and lives to feed, The business grows and sales double; A few more hours and then some dreams to buy! But far from the distance I hear a sound, A friends call for a leisurely walk! Though I have scaled the valleys a lot of times, But still his company makes the journey all so nice. The profits are materialistic, the walk is idealistic;

Date post:	19-Jan-2016
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