The girl who lived in a bubble

Today a lover has died within,

She failed to keep her chastity to the love of her life.

Today a daughter has died within,

When she failed to convince her mother that she is still clean in character.

Today a tiny girl has died within,

To find out that her father is afraid the society would never accept her for her past.

Today a sister has died

After learning that she was a bad example to her brother 

Today a lady has given up on dreaming much higher, when finally she burst the bubble she was floating in of surreal independence, of transient freedom and of being being understood.

Today, yet another individual has died, who irrespective of her varied identities thought she was different and believed in loving the most.

Her journey , she narrated 

Went futile.

No more strength,

No more perseverance.

She, no immortal

But blood and flesh.

She will perish 

She will succumb

She will breathe no more.

~Nikita Hazarika~

29th July 2018

Why the Unknown?

Why do we dwell in the quest of happiness only?

Why are we not content within and keep wanting for some more?

Why to run behind the unknown nestling in the future?

Why the zeal to believe that every dark tunnel has a light of hope at the end?        Why so hasty to heal ?  

How about settling for what we have at the moment and counting our blessings?

How about acknowledging the courage we behold to take the journey through a dark tunnel?

How about halting for a moment to absorb the vivid offerings we already have from life and not drag ourselves to something unknown?

Why not see the darkness first and then run for some light?

Why the need for healing and not the beauty of pain itself?

Why escape and not confront?

Why wear masks of discomfort and pretend joy?

Why not carry a brave heart to accept life as it comes?

It's all in us, within thy mind.

We limit ourselves to standards, to rigid norms of the unknown, the society?!

An outcome of our fears,and insecurities?!

But why?!

Fear not I say!

Fake not I plead!

Rise! I command!

For yourself. 

Embrace thy pain in love.

Touch the fear in faith.

Uproot the doubts,

Spare the gain.

You need not know the unknown,

For you have seeds of today to be sown.

Believe, I say!

In yourself for once,

For the moment for once,

For the journey for once.

Stay with time.

Don't run, don't bleed.

Just breathe.

For you will pave through,

All that comes your way.

Faith, hope, fear, guilt...

Give not a name.

It's you who define, it's you whose efforts go in vein.

Thereby, stay!

Speak not, share not.

Just feel.

Its you and the world.

No give no take.

But Accept.

As time flows, as the story unfolds.

Don't question but experience.

Come what may, just behold!

This is you,

Feeling, enjoying, sensing and breathing.

Stay I say! Don't move.

Beautiful is this, not tomorrow.

Life is this, not yesterday.

Moment is this, undefined and pure.

Not an inch more to assure.

This is life, this is cure.

A warm abode, both deep and secure.

November 18^th 2016

“Dance : the poetry of the mind and the body”

“A sound mind rests in a sound body”, a very familiar quote. But how many of us have holistically applied this in our lives? How many of us have been mindful enough to know how our body feels? How many of us have truly explored the limits of our body aesthetics? These are some vital queries that often emerge when we get deep into the realm of the relationship between the human body and the human mind.

If we minutely observe the validity of the relationship between the mind and the body, it prevails throughout in our ancient history. From ‘Shyamans’ trying to release evil spirits through movement and rhythm, to the circular movements performed by the ‘Sufi cult’ which believed in the connection of the soul and body through dance. Even the Hindu mythological character ‘Lord Shiva’ is known for his ‘Rudra’ avatar (form) when he engages in ‘Tandav Nritya’(dance of aggression) as a release to the emotion ‘anger’. Yoga which is rooted in the Indian culture highlights different body aesthetics which entwines both the body and mind together. In recent times, there is a sudden upsurge for the school of ‘Expressive art therapies’ that cater to needs of Psychophysical wellbeing. One of such emerging fields especially in India is the field of ‘Dance Movement Therapy’. It has its origin from the Western countries. In the year 1942, Marian Chace from United States pioneered ‘Dance Movement Therapy” (DMT). Later, American Dance Therapy Association (ADTA) was established in 1966 as a platform to serve in the field of mental health where DMT was itself considered as a form of ‘Psychotherapy’. According to ADTA, ‘dance therapy’ can be defined as “the psychotherapeutic use of movement to further facilitate the emotional, cognitive, physical and social integration of the individual”.

India being a developing nation has seen changes in its work culture and lifestyle from past few years due to rapid urbanization and industrialization. Be it the work culture or the education system, the phenomenon is that of excessive monotony. This throws light on various emerging health concerns in both physical and psychological contexts. Tripura Kashyap, one of the pioneers of DMT in India has revolutionized the therapeutic aspects of dance throughout the nation. Her venture called ‘Creative Movement therapy Association of India’ is a renowned organization known for its expertise in providing somatic and psychological needs to the society and also provides training courses in and around Indian states.

I have been a small part of this journey which allowed me to widen my area of expertise in ‘dance therapy’ to masses. The primary psychological aspects that the Dance therapy workshop focuses on are based on the demand of a specific population. Some important components are Physical (body awareness, coordination, rhythm development, reduction of motor restlessness, release physical blocks, modification of movement qualities, Gross motor development, liberate from stereotypical movement, enhances imitation skills), Mental (Attention, decision making, memory, spatial intelligence, increasing cognition),Emotional (expression of feelings, building emotional intelligence, having impulse control, acceptance of others emotions, development of empathy, reducing anxiety) and Social (awareness of others, eye contact, leadership qualities, trust building, socially appropriate behavior, adaptability). There are mainly five primary stages in the session; Stage 1 includes an introduction which includes warm ups, games and opening rituals, Stage 2 involves exploration by taking risks, playing with movement, limits potentials and the therapist observes what the client wants. Stage 3 is about expression and communication which stems from experiences, collaborations between group members, deeper movement sessions and trust building, Stage 4 is the resolution phase which is verbal, solution focused and deals with talk therapy and finally Stage 5 includes integration of DMT sessions to real life.

DMT has been used on various populations in India like on corporate employees catering to needs of ‘occupational stress’ and emotional intelligence, with women groups to regulate emotions, releasing vivid forms of emotions through body movement and sculpting. Apart from this, DMT does not mark any limitation to any specific criterion of population only. It is meant for men and women from any age group, it can be conducted in hospitals, schools, support groups, rehabilitation centers and mobility training centers. In some places it can be used as a primary or support therapy mainly with children with Autism for reduction of psychomotor stereotypies,  people with Mood and Stress related disorders where DMT focuses on identification of primary emotions and expression in an appropriate manner , Schizophrenia through integration of body movement and mindful awareness, Mental Retardation through sculpting and imitation, etc.

Expressive art therapy is a new emerging field in India and it has been holistically accepted by people from all walks of life and also has psychotherapeutic properties which have been identified by the American Psychological Association (APA). It has a promising future in our country and people are coming forward to apply it in their regular lifestyles. It caters to widespread areas of psychological wellbeing. Like Weisbrod, 1972 rightly said “When all body parts are organized and integrated, the body is like an orchestra”. Thereby, it should be widely accepted and popularised for the holistic growth of the Indian population.

Nikita Hazarika

August 29th, 2016

Déjà vu

Well, I have been here before. The warm air inside the room, power cut and the heavy rain spraying on my window pane, aah! The same feeling, that used to be during the month of April, here at home. The mornings would be empty, without a soul in the house except me as both my parents would step out of home, for work. Its been almost 6 long years of being away from home, and all seems to be the same whenever I come back. Talking about the April mornings, after waking up from bed, I would often find myself moving to and fro , from one room to the other,  fiddling with anything around the corner. Perhaps, I try to relate back to times that was! 

Maa has kept the house so well, with her innate delights of interior decoration and yes the same warmth always. Now, each room in the house beholds so much value to me. It is indeed a strange feeling because I used to take things so much for granted when I grew up here but today everything is so beautiful and valuable. 

My room, for instance where Maa has kept all my possessions the very same way I had left , six years back. Even the used boxes of 'lip balm' and 'empty evaporated perfume bottles' are kept intact, as it was. I wonder! Why so?! Did she never visit my room after I left?! Was it that difficult for her to throw my things away? Even the used ones?! Scanning each shelf, I found my old ornaments, my cassette collections, my diaries, those huge stack of books    (reminded me of my 'being-nerd' phase) and my pink clay wind chime. Everything felt so real, suddenly. To my surprise, what I had come came across next brought tears into my eyes- 'My toy kitchen set!', perhaps the last one that survived. Sigh! it had tiny plates, glasses, rolling pins, a gas stove and what not. I cannot even recall the last time I would have used them while pretend playing with my peers. Tiny joys of life indeed, that remain 'still'in time. Gazing away from the kitchen set, I saw the old poster stuck to my room door, which I had made once as a teenager. Damn! It said "Do not Enter"! Looks like 'privacy' did matter a lot to me then! I still remember how diligently  I had created this poster, describing my passions in life. It comprised of everything I liked at that point in life. Be it the pop stars I was crazy about like Avril and Shakira to being the heart throb fan of Hrithik Roshan (whom I still adore!). Precisely, one could easily read the story of a 'Teenage soul' right at my door step. 

One of the other luxuries being home, is snacking now and then. I keep visiting the kitchen every 5 minutes. Thanks to Maa, for stocking the kitchen with my favourite cakes, juices, desserts, namkeens and what not! Even If I keep binging all the time, I always find myself hungry. God knows how! It is ironical how I consider the same habit of binging an utter waste of time when I am away from home. I do not even consider it part of my lifestyle. But why so? Is it because I cannot afford to waste money on my daily cravings? Or is it just because I do not have the time to eat except the daily three course meal, that I usually do not skip?! Or is it because 'binging' exclusively for me should be done only at home?! Well, that's still unclear. One more thing that I thought would never happen in my life was craving for 'Fish'! I still remember how fussy I would be when Papa (who can literally survive on fish) would get the best and expensive fish in town just to feed me and I would create a fuss out of it. He would say, 'There will be a time when you would actually get bored with meat and seek out for fish', and yes! that moment did arrive, I missed 'fresh water' fish delicacies out there in Bangalore. Nevertheless, the craving is taken care of whenever I am home as Papa stocks the refrigerator with all varieties of fish, with sizes big to small.

This time, homecoming itself is so rejuvenating. It might be because I have come with an empty mind, with no plans of what I would be doing for sometime now and when I would be going back again. Its been a while I have felt so light as a feather. I am finding joy in almost everything I do, in every moment I am living. The other day I almost felt like a 10 year old, when Maa and Papa decided to take me for a movie not in the PVR cinemas but to our very own 'Anuradha Cinemas'. Like old times we went for a night show. I sat in between Maa and Paa, like a kid all curled up to the hall seat. Papa got me popcorn. Unlike before the popcorn had choices of Caramel, Cheese and Salted. The joy in Maa's face while informing me the same! So adorable! 

Today, when I am writing this I feel so grown up. As a kid I would have had so many dreams of growing up as an independent woman, of living life on my own terms, of even being little away from the normal routine that I was raised in. But now when I look at myself I realize of what I have missed this entire time while weaving my own dreams, of being away from my roots, my family and my own home. People strive for excellence, aspire for gaining more and more out of everything but in this course are we heading towards integrity or despair?! Aren't we webbed from all sides by the whims of this materialistic world? We aspire to see a beautiful world with rose tinted glasses but does is comprise of our roots? Our own parents? Our siblings? Going away from home, leading an independent life, gaining the freedom every young girl would crave for and above all living my life to the fullest. I got the opportunity of doing all that I wanted but sometimes I would get so engrossed in work and in my own lifestyle, that even a phone call from Maa would become a burden to receive. Now, when I think about it, I feel so guilty. All that we lack sometimes is 'time', the most valuable thing in life I believe. We know it is precious, we know it waits for none and we know we have to make use of it. But do we know for whom we need to utilize it the most? No!

This Déjà vu that I am experiencing right now, was even a past that I had lived someday. Me, my little brother, Maa and Papa, that was the world I grew up in. Yes, times have changed. But home hasn't, my family hasn't and yet we as individuals have! Perhaps, being away from home was much needed for me and I would suggest every child should experience it, but for good. For me, I realized what I actually was, what I valued the most, what I missed the most, that is my family. Today, I feel blessed to being able to witness this realization from a unique perspective.When I was thrown into the adult world, I wasn't prepared for so many life changes, from career conflicts to financially broke days, from broken relationships to maintaining some good ones. But all this while, one thing that always remained constant, was my family and their support. I wouldn't have valued this so much until I had decided to step out of my comfort zone of going away from home. 

The stark difference in me, has not taken place over night but it is only because of this Déjà vu that takes me to and fro in time. It allows me to compare and contrast my own life 'that was' with my life 'that is' right now. Re-kindling of memories is the magic of this Déjà vu, which oozes the pain out, the guilt out and gradually recovers it with its soothing perspectives that remain, I believe Forever!

Prelude to a new beginning

As I sit here to pen down my story, I find myself staring at this blank sheet of paper. I play some music to sit in the mood to write. Jonita Gandhi’s rendition to “ Suhani Raat” and “Chaudhvi Ka Chand” gradually blends with the quietness of my room. As I try to indulge in deep thought trying to open the pages of my life’s story. I am suddenly taken back to the year 2007 which marks as a very important year in my life.

I cannot recall the exact moment still but can only visualize my old bedroom with walls painted in pink and purple, my bed, the wind chime with a boat made of clay and  gloomy breeze hitting my window pane. I am lying on the bed, unable to move, my back pinned to the mattress of my bed. It has been nine long months of my prolonged illness and my mind feels numb. After months of doctor hunting, wrong diagnoses of my chronic abdominal pain. It was a relief when I was finally operated out of appendicitis. But this relief seemed short lived, as God decided to continue the thrill until I was hit by a football, a week later after my operation, at school. The consequences were astounding to me, as I could not sit for more than five minutes, from the very next day.

I can still feel the gloominess in the warm air of those days, when I was bed ridden for almost three months again. My body felt like a corpse, all settled to the hard wooden planks of my bed, without mattress. It was not the physical pain I was going through but the mental trauma that seeped in, through my brain to the rest of my body. It was not easy for a daughter to see her parents weep almost every day. It was not easy for her either to bear with the fact of knowing how the financial flow of her family was draining in her treatment. The guilt of being an unproductive being, enclosed within four walls killed me every moment.  The schedule those days would be very monotonous. It started with my parents going to their respective workplaces, my brother would leave for school and I would settle down on my bed with my hot water bag, with a care taker to serve me if needed anything.
I have never been quite a thinker all my life, until the almighty decided to present this finest episode to my so-called normal life. I was not realizing how the nasty hands of pessimism were gradually choking me hard into the tunnel of hopelessness. I had hours, days, weeks and months of complete emptiness which was enough to feel worse about my state. It was no less than being vegetative in nature. I was uprooted from a hyperactive life of dance, music, swimming, chatting, and studying to a complete inactive, stagnant state. It was not easy for me to accept this unusual offering.

I considered myself lucky to have a bunch of good friends in school, who would dance along, take part with me in any assignments and co-curricular activities during my healthy days. I never could imagine a day without them around me. But a day did dawn upon me, when they appeared to have betrayed me from all possible sides. This doomed on me, when I had received a phone call from my so-called closest friend from school. I dragged myself out of the bed towards the phone receiver, hoping to listen to the updates from school. To my surprise, my friend had called to inform me that everyone in class was conspiring against me. Now, to the question why they did so, I myself was bewildered to learn the reality. My classmates did not like the fact that I was not attending regular classes, but was allowed to get promoted based on my previous academic performance, which was consistent throughout. According to my batch mates, I was a coward to have taken advantage
 of the fact that I was a “teacher’s daughter” in school. This struck me real bad at that tender age. I went into this cocoon of depression. For an adolescent’s heart, this was enough to take and my physical inability made me a handicapped person mentally as well.

I would spend hours crying alone, it was hard to swallow the bitterness of losing my friends, of being misunderstood. At the heat of that moment I finally decided to appear for my exams despite being bed ridden. By then, I had already missed six months of classes from the beginning of my abdominal pain, appendicitis operation until this corpse-like state of being. My family played a major role in preparing me for my upcoming exams which was almost like a challenge to overcome. My mother and my little brother would read out every subject to me while I would listen to it, trying hard to concentrate on each word spoken. Until then, I was a terrible auditory learner, but by God’s grace I managed to brace myself. The auditory lessons would include all possible subjects, from the rule of Hitler, to Sylvia Plath’s poetry and to add cherry on the top, it would also include mathematics! And finally the day had arrived when I was taken to the examination scheduled in the sick room with a bed for me to write my papers. I was blessed to have all my teachers around me, who came to see me with flowers and chocolates. They were quite empathizing to a teenage soul which would induce great courage while I would write the papers. My eyes would constantly roll towards the door, looking out for at least one friend from my group. To my utter surprise, none of them turned up to pay a visit. There would be a handful of them, whom I never considered so close, but they stayed with me forever.

The distress even worsened when I found myself stagnant for a long time after that. My passion for dance and singing was at halt. I could not appear for my dance and singing examination. Doctors prohibited me from continuing dance in the near future. Being inactive was never my cup of tea, and this fact broke me into pieces every moment. As my body was firm to stiffness of the wooden bed, my mind had taken its rough course. It would just not stop working. To my surprise, it could never welcome anything optimistic. It was then, when I began to reach any possible worse conclusions to any life event that came my way. I was feeling helpless, unable to do anything, was this it? Was this my end? As my friends were out, breathing the fresh air of their teenage years, dancing, singing and having fun, I was left with my own thoughts which never grew on time. I felt I had missed out a lot in the past few months. I never knew that this psychological turmoil would trigger the physical pain to such an extent. I was blinded; I couldn’t see a ray of hope rising from optimism. After a while I was taken to Hospitals in the town where my actual diagnosis was done. They concluded that the football that hit my lower back had caused major muscular spasm out of the sudden shock I had received. I was thereby, advised some weeks of physiotherapy and had been given a portable therapy kit for regular use. This did not end my pain. I was undergoing the same pain when I was suggested homeopathy with acupuncture.  This treatment worked wonders to great extent. My back had lost sensations to needle poking me from all directions, but the regular conversations I had with my doctor worked as Talk Therapy to me. He would tell me about his passion of writing scripts for movies and I would tell him how I liked dancing and singing. I never knew, I had been so quiet about my psychological conflicts with my family and friends. I never spoke my heart but the regular sessions of seeing someone else describing their passion was a good change for me.

My mother, during that time had been a constant support. She would read out stories of great people and their lives.Like any girl of that age, I did have fantasies of my prince charming. Though I missed out a lot of time being inside the house, always under supervision, this certainly had to happen to me. And then, it all started very unusually. I used to know him since I was in my 8th standard, when I would get to see him in my Math tuitions. Oh! I really was scared of numbers at that point of time but I don’t regret it further because you know, I would miss this opportunity to meet him in life. Well, I was the one bullied around in tuitions as I was the only poor girl soul in a group of almost ten boys. And those days, I would be those geeky, anti-boys sort of a person and he would be the only one I would talk to. He would have this different side to him, when he would be so gentle and caring towards me. Our friendship started when I started helping him buy gifts for his so-called girlfriend whom he had met only once in two years. Well, that was a great deal at that time! Sadly, even after knowing each other for three long years, we never did realize we had some feelings for each other. It all began, when I gradually started missing on my tuition routine because of the sudden decline of my health. Those days, we never had the privilege to own a cell phone to keep in touch nor were we brave enough to exchange our landline numbers. One fine day, after three months of missing tuitions, I receive an email from some random email address. Surprised was I to have learnt that it was from him. And the story continued from then. We would keep in touch through emails. Every single day I would drag myself to the computer and read his emails. This kept me going for a very long time. It was this sudden ray of hope, care and a happy feeling to know that someone did care for me or there was someone to whom I could talk to. Gradually, I started attending school and finally appeared my boards from the same class were I would notice betrayal from all sides. But I won’t deny that I had made a handful of close buddies who are still in my life. Luckily my childhood friend Liza was with me in the same class and we turned out to be the best of friends till date. While I was breathing in some fresh air finally in my final year in school, some story was also cooking in my tuitions with him. We had only three month left to part, as we would be ending our math tuitions for good and the realization was gradually seeping in. It was sad how we finally told each other our feelings only on the last day of tuitions. I thought he hadn’t told the other girl about us but to my surprise he had ended things a year ago. I was so overwhelmed and blessed with the feeling of loving someone for the first time. The three years of writing, meeting in stationery shops to have a glance of each other, or perhaps meeting at a friend’s birthday party were all such beautiful moments I did enjoy.

Well,things were fine until my parents had finally discovered my love for him. I never did realize this feeling would turn into guilt every moment. Perhaps, that was parental apprehensions, but I still believe they could have been little gentle on me. I was torn between loving someone and proving myself at every sphere of life. It did leave scars on me, of carrying the guilt of being a bad daughter. I had always looked up to my parents. Be it their own beautiful love story, their struggle behind it and how they managed to live their lives as they always wanted, together. I was weaving my own such dream at that tender age, and I thought they would understand me but they had failed. This might sound not a great deal from an adult perspective but it did have a grave impact on a teenager, who had already faced a lot in that age. I was in turmoil of what to do and what not to. I wanted to prove myself through my results, co-curricular activities and I certainlydid. I guess it wasn’t enough for them and they always had this apprehension in their minds that I might go wrong in life if I welcome such a feeling to grow. It would hurt me bad when they would blame me, question me for no reason but I did not have an answer to it. Somehow, I would be patient, sobbing deep within, hoping for things to get better in the future. My little brother would always be on my side, caressing me, assuring me for a bright day that will come very soon. All this while, the love never stood halted but grew mutually in time. We both grew up as matured individuals and built our mind strong to reach heights and make our lives beautiful together.
I wanted something real for myself. I was looking for something that I could start from scratch on my own. It was then, when I decided to step out of my comfort zone. While all my friends were going for Delhi University for their degree courses, I decided to choose a path not taken by all. I found myself in Bangalore, which is my second home now. Life has taken its own course since then. A girl who had been so dependent in life, always under supervision, narrowed in her thoughts was now willing to explore her new world. I learnt every inch of my life since then, on my own. I had bitter and sweet experiences throughout. But my life would not have been this beautiful without either of it. Being in the hostel taught me a lot. I had had experiences of fighting rats, gulping local food for breakfast to making good friends in and around me.

As I left home, I promised myself to deny all my worries, pain and health issues for a while. I wanted to do everything I had missed in those gloomy years of my past life. I wanted to dance, sing, write, act and do everything possible. And I really immersed myself into it.  By now I had learnt how to cope with my pain. I still hold regrets of the past, but I don’t feel like an under achiever anymore.

People now, complain of me being anxious, or a workaholic. But within me, I know they cannot be blamed as they would never understand what I have lost in life to be this way. I know I have perhaps undermined my peaceful instincts in this course, but you cannot satisfy or get everything the right way, can you? Today, when I look around I see accomplishment, I see joy and I see what I will do further because I know I have grown as a person, self- reliant and independent as what I always wanted to be. I still have my wonderful parents, whom I could finally prove myself, a loving little brother, a genuine group of friends, that same love of my life and I have myself. It feels so great to know, and learn from our pasts and nourish our present. I still feel that I am a learner, a curious explorer who would take every opportunity to live life my own way and in my own little world. At the end of the day, it is only you who can become the architect of your own life and your conscience will guide you everywhere when you follow your own dreams. Life is indeed very beautiful so far, and I consider this to be the prelude to a new beginning…….

You too need to learn from your past (as though coming in terms with your past isn’t work enough.) But one must also learn to make the best out of worst. Life is not always a bed of roses, there will be thorns there will be cuts and wounds and you will bleed, but instead of sobbing over your wounds, make them your life’s lessons and use them as a ladder to climb up to great heights. Let no failure put you down, let no one be able to command over you.

30th June 2014

A forbidden land?

“When you are deprived of something, you tend to understand its value”. I had felt the same way, when I chose to study far away from my hometown. The constant alienation, when exposed to new faces, culture and places evokes this intense feeling of missing home. I was quite new to experience such a feeling which grew intense with time. The worth of parents, the culture of my state, its people and its richness could be understood by me when I went far away from it. Bangalore, where I study now drew me closer as it had abundance of things I always wanted to do and learn in life. Though I am being able to fulfil all my dreams on one side of my heart, the other side still longs for the comfort of my home, Assam.

Time is an aid to any wound but in my case it was an eye opener. I have grown up hearing stories about how Northeasterns are alienated from rest of India but I thought those were days gone by and now it is a new beginning. It is indeed sad that my notion was proved wrong when I myself had to undergo a lot. I had invited a friend from Iran to spend the vacation in my hometown Assam. I never knew this whole-hearted invitation would take me aback in a state of shock. To my surprise she refused to come because people were giving her negative hints that the growing terrorism in Assam might be a hindrance in her journey. They also said that it might be difficult to get out of our houses as militants throw bombs on pedestrians. Sigh! My effort to make them understand the reality went in vein when they gave me examples of how media portrayed North East most of the time. This incident took me to an unusual aspect of life where my vision towards the world had a different approach. I had undergone intense introspection before judging others because I feared to be wrong. It has been three years now but things are still the same here. To my utter surprise people fail to figure out where Assam is located in India. They do not know why this state is famous for, be it the Tea found here, the Muga silk, the Bihu dance . I was astounded by the fact that they did not know that Assam is the only place in the world where you find the One-horned Rhino. I mean, it is sad that people fail to answer basic general knowledge. This pride being the sole owner of the One-horned Rhino in the world is not only Assam’s pride but also a National pride. But why have people undermined such a fact?!

Education in North-East  I agree is limited which has compelled students like us to venture outside our own place but if one sees this matter in depth, I feel our education system is rich and unique in its own way. It does not provoke regionalism or hatred. We have grown up knowing the culture of other states, enjoying its richness but why has the rest of India not considered us? Keeping in mind that North-East has been under intense tensions of various terrorist groups but if we take a wider perspective about this matter, which state or country in today’s scenario does not face the fear of terrorism? Be it West Bengal or Sri Lanka both the places have a long history of such tensions. Are these places still the victims of stigma and prejudice? Even the recent hype about the ethnic clash at Kokrajhar(rural place in Assam) was portrayed as a communal riot in Media, which affected the whole of India for no reason. No one even tried to understand the true facts! When we were in school, while drawing the map of India, have we all not considered the north, south, east and west equally? I cannot digest the fact of how Regionalism can be so hard core in minds of people? Gone are the days when North-East was unknown to the world. Globalization and Media revolution has taken steps to promote this region of our nation in many ways but why has the so-called stigma still alive in the minds of people? Outsiders look down upon us as we are under developed and think that we are only surrounded by jungles and we live in tree houses (which is not the reality!) but they are forgetting that we are upcoming like any other developing place. They have forgotten that they also were underdeveloped at one point of time when their Metro cities were undergoing construction. I feel our voices are unheard because the negative notions terrorism, under-development has over powered any other positive statement about this region of India. Being a student of media I found refuge in taking small initiatives to erase the false image of North-East. Showcasing Assamese folktale “ Tejimola” in a National level Conference was a new experience altogether. Other projects like writing about “Majuli Island” in my blog or even making Dj-scripts on North-Eastern music and throwing light on Bhupendra Sangeet and Bihugeet gave me immense satisfaction. I believe such initiatives have at least made a small section of the people aware about my place. I have literally grown as a person to know my state and its richness in this course.

To conclude I truly believe that North-East needs to be known to the world. Media no doubt has most of the time only focused on the negative sides of North-east which has undermined the positive initiatives taken by projects like “Incredible India”. Altogether I feel the root of such regionalism lie in our minds. If outsiders have an open approach towards us, leaving behind the brutal prejudices and the so-called stigma subjected upon us, it will enable everyone to remain in brotherhood. Indirectly, it would help us to be complete and fulfil the dreams of our gone by heroes to be the Shining India.

Thought for the moment

We live in a country where we worship "Durga-Kali-Saraswati". They say Women are the "Lakshmi" of the family and Maa is the epitome of life. But don't you think, these are slow and sweet poison to the very fact of being a" Girl Child" in the society? Well, let me take you back to times when women had to go through atrocities, tests, torture in all aspects of life. Even "Sita" underwent purification to prove Lord Rama of her loyalty. Even Goddesses were not spared, so why should mortals be?  In society women are the Second class citizens, condensed to be mere objects undergoing Sati-pratha, deprived of education, subjected to domination.

In recent times we all keep beating drums on the fact of being a Democracy dealing with elements of equality and freedom. No doubt we encourage women in many aspects now, they voice out too, but don't you think we put them on pedestal and yet offer them pain in any form? It is like coating her with sugar on the top and inducing poison on a mildly daily basis.

Following up with the trend of mushrooming rape cases all over India, Delhi has topped the list. From 572 registered rape cases in the year 2011, it has moved to 635 rape cases in the year 2012! And the true bitter fact is that these are the cases which are registered officially. What about those who were silenced? Yes! It is indeed a serious matter. It is not about blaming the government and shouting slogans of "we want capital punishment". It is about you and me. It is about awareness and teachings at the grass root level. I say stop treating your girl child as princesses at home, on one hand and ask them to make small sacrifices for her male sibling on the other hand! Stop mentioning her that "you are a girl thereby it is your duty". Stop encouraging objectifying of women in any form, be it in ads or movie songs. Talk loud about SEX in a country like India, where Google statistics say it is the most commonly typed three letter word by people from India. Do not hesitate but encourage Sex education. End of the day it is you who suffers and complains, so pull up your socks and make a change right away, as it is never too late to realize!