सानसेखालि मोनसे गामियाव सहरनि सासे गथ’साया गावनि बिमाजों बिमायनि नआव आलासि जानो फैदोंमोन। अखानायै फुंनि समाव बियो गामिनि सासे गथ’साजों बिसोरनि नआव गेलेनो थांदोंमोन। सहरनि गथ’साया बैहाय बिफांनि दालाइयाव गोमोन गोमोन थाइजौ फिथाइ नुदोंमोन आरो बेफोरखौ जानो लुबैदोंमोन। सहरनि गथ’साया लोगोनाव सोंदोंमोन, “आं थाइजौ गोमोनखौ जानो लुबैदोंमोन। दे जों फिथाइफोरखौ सानैजों खानानै जानो हागोनना?” गामिनि […]
Swrangsar Basumatary is a high school teacher. Most of the students he teaches have gone on to get big jobs; some have become businessmen, police officers, some have become teachers, some have become contractors, and some have become film actors and singers. He feels very proud of this. He feels like a successful teacher, but
A really big bag. Packed with food, drinks, and clothes. The money he earned was tucked into the long-sleeve pocket of his shirt. That’s how he made sure it didn’t slip out. After so many years, he’s finally back home today. Ten years ago, he had an elderly mother, a wife, and a young daughter.
Nwjwr Basumatary. This was the name his parents lovingly called out to him since his birth. In school as well, this was the name by which everyone knew him, and carrying this very name, he had successfully passed many grades up to this point. This year, he is studying in the HS 2nd year (Class
Roji successfully passed her Matriculation (Class 10) examination. From the very beginning, she had made up her mind that she would somehow pursue her further studies at the Bongaigaon College. The moment the Matriculation results were declared, Roji eagerly went to her mother and said:“Mother, I have passed the Matriculation examination! Now, I want to
Along the path to Rwisumwi’s place and right in the backyard of the house, a lush, vibrant taro (thaso) garden has grown abundantly. It looks as though someone from the house intentionally cultivated a taro plantation. The leaves are remarkably large and broad. Suddenly, on a stretch of the road, people caught in an unexpected
Roji had asked her mother and father for a new Dokhona. Her mother used to weave Dokhona and Gamsa at home since the old days. However, these days, their traditional wooden weaving shed (hisansali) has fallen into complete disrepair and broken down. She can no longer focus on weaving like she used to. Roji herself
It is the rainy season. The sun is shining intensely hot. Far away, throughout the day, the cicadas (gavrema and riuriuwa) are continuous in their singing. The village people say to one another that the more the cicadas sing, the harsher the sun beats down. Today has turned out just like that. Nevertheless, the working
It was evening time. After having dinner, everyone in the village went inside their houses to sleep. A little while ago, it had rained heavily. After managing the rainwater from flooding into the pigpen, Rwisumwi and her family also went inside the house. For a brief moment, the husband and wife conversed in bed and
The colorful pig, which was tied up with a rope in the betel nut garden near the house, was busy destroying a wasp’s nest this morning. Seeing that it was about to give birth, Rwisumwi had kept it tied near the house every day. Because the smell of its feces and urine would waft in