bishnupriya manipuri online digest june 2012 issue

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Bishnupriya Manipuri Online Digest : June

June 2012

Since 2007

Bishnupriya Manipuri Online Digest : June 2012

ContentsKhalorparor Kang strikes a chord with Hindus, Muslims.............................................................................3

Bishnupriya Manipuris demand more employment opportunities.............................................................7

BMUYA raises questions against activities of BMDC...................................................................................8

Hallelujah Drogba!.......................................................................................................................................9

Travel Blues (Part V) (New Delhi-Guwahati)..............................................................................................11

Travel Blues (Part IV) (Silchar to Guwahati)...............................................................................................15

Pocha Ojha: An epoch-maker....................................................................................................................16

Assam Search Engine: Bisarok...................................................................................................................18

Travel Blues (Part III) (Silchar to Lumding).................................................................................................20

Travel Blues (Part II) (Silchar to Siliguri).....................................................................................................22

The Brighter Side Of Darkness...................................................................................................................23

Travel Blues (Part I) (Srinagar - Jammu).....................................................................................................26

Bishnupriya Manipuri bodies demand dissolution of Development Council.............................................27

European excellence award for Assam girl................................................................................................28

Assam Search Engine Bisarok....................................................................................................................29

Gogoi urged to dissolve Bishnupriya Manipuri Dev Council......................................................................29

Living with half a face................................................................................................................................30

Rath Yatra Festival.....................................................................................................................................32

The Distant Relations.................................................................................................................................33

Chetan Bhagat’s Revolution 2020..............................................................................................................37

Love Letter To Miss Nomore......................................................................................................................38

Delhi blogger receives DILS gift of honour.................................................................................................39

SPOTLIGHT: Jyoti Sinha..............................................................................................................................40

Journey of Bishnupriya Manipuri music....................................................................................................42

Bishnupriya Manipuri Woman Bags International Award from Cachar.....................................................44

Call of time and its right response.............................................................................................................44

Roma Sinha awarded "European Process Excellence” Award 2012...........................................................47

BMWF gains tensile strength.....................................................................................................................48

Bishnupriya Manipuri Online June 2012 http://bishnupriyamanipuri.blogspot.in

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SATURDAY, 30 JUNE 2012

Khalorparor Kang strikes a chord with Hindus, Muslims

Ramlal SinhaGuwahati, June 29

Khalorparor Kang, a legacy of Jagannath’s return rath that has been striking the right chord with the Hindus and Muslims in the south Assam district of Karimganj is on its way to complete 200 years when the kang committee rolled its traditional seven fira kangs (returning chariots) in its 187th anniversary at Khalorpar on Friday, daring the devastating floods that have marooned hundreds of houses in the district.

Khalorparor Kang, which has been rolling uninterruptedly since 1826, is unique on many counts in its appeal. As the tradition goes, as many as seven villages – Satra Lokei (Satragram), Tanga Lokei (Mantrigtram), Khulakpa Lokei (Patrogram), Kehurgang, Khalibari (Nayadahar), Mechigo Lokei (North Beelbari) and South Beelbari – roll out a rath each, and all the seven raths converge to a particular point under an age-old banyan tree amid the participation of thousands of devotees, regardless of their caste, creed and faith. The banyan tree at the point of confluence of the seven raths at Khalorpar in Patharkandi has been a mute and standing witness to the return rath festival since 1826. Further, the chariots are also pulled by girls who dress themselves in a traditional uniform.




What’s significant is that of the seven raths, the rath of South Beelbari is pulled, since its inception, by an elephant, and the expense for the elephant service is borne by anyone from the financially well-off Muslims who are a majority in Karimganj. The 187-year-old return rath has a remarkable history. During the exodus due to Burmese attack (Owar Bagon), thousands of people had fled Manipur and settled in the Barak Valley, Tripura, Bangladesh and Burma (now Myanmar). Mammoth congregation among the people was next to impossible under the British regime even as the period (1826) was much before the Sepoy Mutiny.

In order to translate his conception into a reality, a priest, Pundarikaksho Sharma, called a religious congregation of the seven Bishnupriya Manipuri villages on the day of Fira Kang in 1826 for the observance of rath yatra, and since then the legacy has been followed with the participation of a number of Meitei villages like Karchorghat, Leishramgram, Moiranggram and Rajbari, besides Bengalis, Tea Tribes and Muslims (as onlookers and in making arrangement with cash and kind).




According to Golapchand Sinha, who has authored the history of Khalorparor Kang, all the seven raths were designed by Girokmoni Singh of Sylhet following a divine directive. The three-storey design of the seven raths – a tier each for Jagannath, Balabhadra and Subhadra – given by Girokmoni Singh is still followed as any deviation from the design, the local people claim, leads to evil omen.

As a mark of honour to its founder Pundarikaksho Sharma, an extra rath in his memory is rolled a day before the return rath, and this year the Pundarikaksho Kang was rolled on Thursday. The Khalorparor Kang has also been a topic for many a litterateur. While poet Madan Mohan Mukhupadhyay has written a poem on Khalorparor Kang, Debodutta Sinha did a documentary film on this return rath festival.




Courtesy: Seven Sisters Post

FRIDAY, 29 JUNE 2012

Bishnupriya Manipuris demand more employment opportunitiesFrom our Correspondent

SILCHAR, June 28: Members of newly formed Bishnupriya Unemployed Youths Association submitted a memorandum addressed to the Deputy Commissioner, demanding proper consideration with regard to selection of beneficiaries under Prime Minister’s Employment Generation Programme (PMEGP) 2012- 2013.

Gopesh Sinha, president of the organization said that the un-employment problem had been gripping the youths of the community. He pointed out, “As most of them belong to semi urban area, the banks also do not pay interest for extending loan facilities.”

He added to say that the unemployed youths of the community were deprived of different facilities given under different schemes like PMEGP, KALPATARU, CM’s Yojana. He alleged that the funds allocated for the youths of Bishnupriya Manipuri were also not utilized properly by the Bishnupriya Manipuri Development Council. He further said that gross anomalies and irregularities in funds in the name of auto rickshaw distribution to the unemployed youths were also found.

In the memorandum, the members of the organization requested the Deputy Commissioner to consider the names who applied for financial assistance under PMEGP scheme.

The copy of this memorandum was also sent to Tarun Gogoi, Chief Minister and general manger, DICC, Cachar.

Courtesy: The Sentinel




MONDAY, 25 JUNE 2012

BMUYA raises questions against activities of BMDCFrom our Correspondent

SILCHAR, June 24: The members of the Bishnupriya Manipuri Unemployed Youth Association (BMUYA) raised questions on the activities of the Bishnupriya Manipuri Development Council (BMDC), as they alleged that the funds allocated for the unemployed youths of Bishnupriya Manipuri in 2010-11 were not utilized properly.

Gopesh Sinha, president of Bishnupriya Manipuri Unemployed Youth Association, said that the Council had recently distributed 62 auto-rickshaws in the name of unemployed youths in which large irregularities were found as those who received the vehicle maximum of them are employed.

He added to say that the Committee received a huge sum in return to the distribution of auto-rickshaws to rich and well settled families. He pointed that the BMDC had taken a sum of Rs 30,000 from a youth of Karimganj, Rs 30000 from one of Nityanagar village of Hailakandi district and from another who live in Kachudaram area of Cachar, but they are yet to get their vehicles.

According to him, the BMDC also looted the money in the scheme of distributing sewing machines to the unemployed ladies. He further raised the question that how Ranu Sinha, wife of a college teacher and Pramila Rani Sinha, who is the wife of a bank employee, received the machines.

Gopidas Sinha, members of All Assam Linguistic Minority Development Board, said that he would launch a movement against the misdeed of BMDC. He pointed out, “The numbers of unemployed youth are rising day by day, and subsequently the government has also initiated scores of schemes. But the way the BMDC has betrayed the poor unemployed youths, is very shameful and I will not tolerate this.” He further advised the members of Bishnupriya Manipuri Unemployed Youth Association to launch a mass agitation against the BMDC. He further assured his presence in the ensuing activities of the association.

However, in order to launch the movement against the betrayal, a new organization ‘Bishnupriya Manipuri Unemployed Youth Association’ was formed recently.

Courtesy: The Sentinel




SUNDAY, 24 JUNE 2012

Hallelujah Drogba!

Delhi Diary

Raj Kumar Mithilesh Sinha

India is a cricket dominating country. Here cricket is a religion and Sachin is a God, But for me it is Football that drives my nerves. I follow this sport ardently just like a staunch, passionate believer of any faith. As it is said : ‘’Cricket is known as gentlemen’s game but Football is a men’s game. Here one will feel the passion, anger and love.’’ And I love this beautiful game.

Didier Drogba

It was Sunday and the date was 17th June 2012. The scorching heat of Delhi compel anyone stay inside, but I was absolutely in a frenzied state to witness the historic moment I was waiting since long. It will not be an exaggeration if I say it is the best day of my life. I saw my favorite football star Didier Drogba in reality before my eyes. Former Chelsea striker and all time top scorer of the Côte d'Ivoire national




football team is a living legend for his country and for his Club. I hurriedly got ready and was soon riding my Enfield towards Tyagraj Stadium.

Drogba helped his team to qualify for its first ever World Cup, held in Germany in 2006 and he helped his Club Chelsea to lift Uefa Champions League, as he played a leading role in Chelsea's Champions League triumph over Bayern Munich. Drogba was appointed by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) as a Goodwill Ambassador for his previous charity work.

After winning the Champions League for Chelsea, Drogba became the ultimate star for his fans. Every fan wants to catch a glimpse of his face. Drogba’s visit to India was the part of Pepsi's first football campaign in the country.

I was very excited as it was a life time opportunity to see my idol.

Tyagraj Stadium is far away from my home. After reaching the stadium, I called up the guy who messaged me previous night in FB regarding the Passes. That guy came and offered me three Passes. He said, ''Enjoy the Game ''. For few seconds, I was totally out of this world as the person who offered me Pass had never met me before; even I didn't know his name. It was a strange happening but somewhere inside I was feeling great as if I was in cloud 9, but one thing was common between us that we both love this beautiful game and we both support Chelsea FC.

After getting the Passes, I entered into the stadium with my friends. The stadium was packed fully. It seemed like all football fans in Delhi gathered in “One Place”, cheering for football and their Legend Drogba. Somehow we manage to sit in the VIP Lounge as it was near to the arena. The atmosphere was simply rocking; music was mind blowing and the crowd was amazing. Arrangements were perfect. It was coupon system. In one coupon you would get Pepsi or mineral water, Pizza or Sandwich, and chips or biscuits.




It was T20 Football championship .There were eight different teams participated in the competition. All teams were winners of their respective states and cities. It was 20-minute match and the winner was decided on the same day. The winner of that T20 Football championship would be coached by none other than Didier Drogba, and that team will play against Indian Cricket team coached by Indian Football legend Baichung bhutia. Pepsi India Brand Ambassador Ranbir Kapoor was also the attraction of the game.

The whole show was hosted by MTV VJ and DJ Nikhil Chinnapa. The show began with the entry of the first celebrity, Delhi boy Virat Kohli; the whole stadium started chanting VIRAT…VIRAT…. Soon Ranbir Kapoor entered into the stadium, followed by MS Dhoni, Suresh Raina, Harbhajan Singh, Murli Vijay and Baichung Bhutia.

The programme was full of entertainment. The solo performance by drummer Shivamani, eye-catching performance by cheer girls, free style football in desi beats, and with live football game; it came as a perfect cocktail dinner with stars. Fans with their mobiles and smart phones were busy capturing each and every moment of the day as if no one wanted to miss those precious moments. It was overwhelming and enchanting experience.

Besides all these stars in one platform, the audience was still waiting anxiously for one person; and at last he came and the whole stadium stood up and starts chanting DROGBAaaaaa..DROGBA aaa, …DROGBAaaa... For few moments I felt I am in Wembley, watching live football game. The legend was given a standing ovation. He showed his hands towards fans and his first sentence was- “Good to see Indian Chelsea fans here … after Champions League..’’

After completing his speech, Drogba met Baichung, Indian cricketers and Ranbir Kapoor. He was immediately surrounded by media persons and photographers. He shared his views with some Indian fans and showed some football skills and technique. It was really nice watching Drogba and Baichung playing with future Indian footballers well-supported by Indian cricket players and Bollywood star Ranbir Kapoor. The stars before our eyes appeared to be like ‘Taare Zameen par’ in reality; It was a proud moment for all Indian Football fans in which eminent players and personalities came together in one stage to support single cause ‘promoting Football in India’.

These are the unforgettable moments of my life. I captured each and every moment in my camera. These moments are for lifetime which would always be alive and vivid in my memories.

Hallelujah Drogba!





Travel Blues (Part V) (New Delhi-Guwahati)

Non-Fiction

RK Rishikesh Sinha

To a lost boy in journey, nothing on earth supersedes the happiness of being found. I got separated for 4-5 hours from my father without a penny in pocket and with no instruction to follow; the journey came as an appalling and horrific experience for me.

We were tired and had not taken food and sleep properly since the day my father and I began our journey from Kashmir to Jammu by bus, than taking another journey from Jammu to Old Delhi by train. We were travelling continuously with 2 heavy trunks and a bedding. The size of the bedding was so big that it was half my height, and trunks so heavy that a coolie can’t take two in one go.

We were at one of the platforms in Old Delhi Railway Station where the train from Jammu had dropped us early morning and we hadn’t taken anything to give energy to our tired body. Our stay there was not too long. A railway announcement swung us to take another travel in a train stationed at a different platform.

Keeping a trunk there where we sat; with a coolie, we climbed the stairs hurriedly, walked fast few metres on the bridge that joins the platforms, and rushed to that platform where a train was stationed. I climbed in a bogie that had big door. After I climbed into the bogie, my father and the coolie together




pushed the trunk and the bedding into the compartment. As soon as I could position myself and bring the trunk and the bedding at the corner, the first jerk of the train that had started leaving the platform, and subsequent rush of the passengers, pushed me towards the opposite door of the bogie. To my astonishment, the train had started leaving the platform. My father was in the platform, and was also a trunk. I came with full force again near the door. The distance between us till then had widened and was increasing, I saw my father saying something, but couldn’t hear anything due to the distance and with the noise of the speeding train. I flung myself out of the moving train to have a glimpse of my father. The train left the platform and was roaring towards a destination that I don’t know. Soon, he got completely invisible to my eyes.

Many passengers saw the separation between my father and me. My eyes moistened; tears started rolling down my cheeks. After few minutes, a passenger who had witnessed the separation asked me, “where going”. “Guwahati—Assam,” said I. “Get down at New Delhi Railway Station. This train is inter-city,” said the person. I became quiet. After running for few minutes, the train stopped at a platform, I thought to get down since my father might come here searching me. There was another thought whether to get down at New Delhi Railway Station or to get down at the last station of the train. Since in these stations, my father would be searching me. I had to decide. I followed the advice of the person and decided to alight at New Delhi Railway Station. “For how much time, this train stops at New Delhi Railway Station,” I asked. “Two—three minutes,” answered the person. “Two—three minutes. Okay,” said I. A stream of thought came in my mind that I must not miss the chance to get down with all the things, lest I would be in big problem. Whenever the train stops, I had the feeling that my father will appear. But he didn’t come.

Soon, the train entered into the New Delhi Railway Station. Fearing that the train would stop for only two-three minutes; from the moving train, I threw the trunk into the crowded platform. I didn’t care whether my act would hurt anybody on the platform or not. I heard people on the platform screaming at me. As I was ready to throw the bedding, passengers who were perplexed with my act stopped me saying that the train would stop at the station for a long period.

I waited for the train to stop. At last the train stopped. I pushed hard and threw the bedding into the platform. While I was struggling how to collect the trunk, I saw a coolie who wore a red shirt and a turban on his head walking towards me. “Kaha jana hain?” he said. The coolie had his eye on me simultaneously he was looking at other travellers. As if I haven’t heard his question, I said that I have only 10 Rupees, if he could carry it for Rs 10, it is okay. Lest let it be here. There was one fear that was grappling me — I should not succumb to the incident that had taken place with me. The coolie who was gazing at me constantly to hear my response agreed to carry the bedding for Rs 10. I said, that we have to go back, I don’t know where, and what would be the distance, I have to go near a trunk that I have thrown back. Luckily, the coolie didn’t bargain with the price. At that moment, he appeared as a God to me.




He picked up the bedding and started walking towards the last bogie of the train, and behind him I was. I remember I threw the trunk near an eatery shop. I was roving my eyes on each and every material on the platform expecting the trunk might be found anywhere. We covered a distance, more than I expected. I saw the eatery shop, but there didn’t lay the trunk. As I was scanning the whole place, I found that my trunk was in the custody of an Army jawan. He kept it perhaps after reading the text written on the trunk.

From

RK HL Sinha,

SI/RM,

FTR HQ BSF Srinagar, J&K

To

Self,

Guwahati Railway Station,

Assam.

I paid Rs 10, the only money that was with me, to the coolie and sat on the trunk heavy at heart, and tiresome to the bone. To lighten myself, I started talking with the Army jawan and told him what had taken place with me. He told me that he is coming from Kashmir and would be going to Guwahati by an ‘evening train’.

“Shall I take the evening train with him till Guwahati?” I gave a thought, “And my father will catch me from there.”

His one sentence worked as a stimulus to my overactive mind, which had started running fast since I lost my father. I soon got lost to my battle of thoughts. “If I go along with him till Guwahati taking the evening train; doing so I will be near to my destination Silchar. From Guwahati, somehow I will arrange my rescue. Since my father ultimate visit will be Silchar, he will find me there. At least I will be out of this problem.” The battle of thought continued, “But then, that would be full of risk. Moreover I don’t have ounce of energy left to take another journey…and if I don’t find my father in Guwahati, then. No…No. I will land myself in a big problem. It will be compounded.” As there has been short-circuit in the functioning of my brain. I stopped and disposed of the thought altogether and I decided to wait there in New Delhi Railway Station till my father finds me. I came in terms with me only when the jawan said, “You see my things. I am going for bath.” He kept in my custody a suitcase, a trunk and a bedding.




Seeing him go, I sat alone, hungry and tired. There were venomous thoughts swirling in my mind. Time that has never been of my concern before, it seemed to me had stopped ticking. To kill the boredom, not exactly boredom but the fear that has consumed me, I started changing my seat frequently between the trunk and the bench. But I preferred spending much time sitting on the trunk since the text written on it will save me, at least, from some problems and harassments that I might encounter with my too long stay there. I cannot think of going to sleep, the urgent requirement of my body, since I had a fear that if my father come and failed to locate me.

I saw many trains coming and leaving the station, and with it crisscrossing of passengers, those who were leaving the station, and those who were arriving at the station. Travellers seemed to me as waves of sea, leaving the shore as soon as it appears. And there I was, who was neither leaving the station nor taking any train. When there were no passengers at the station, few remains there. Those who remained there were shopkeepers, hawkers, coolies, beggars, railway personnel, and the police, and I myself. However, there were other people sharing the same space and were eyeing on me.

These people will also leave after a certain time. A prominent question from the stream of thoughts that came in my mind, the mind which had become till then a repository of frightening, contradictory and ominous ideas, was — for how long I will be able to stay with my energy that was diminishing without food. I will not be able to stay on my feet till 10 pm, came the answer. I was subsisting on water. Hours have passed watching the entrance of the platform; still my father was nowhere visible. “Has he taken a wrong plan to find me?” was another question effortlessly coming in my mind.

In such painful moment, one lives on hope, and I was living on hope only. I was like an injured animal ready to be preyed — weak, vulnerable, and susceptible. I had fallen to the scornful eyes of bad people, who were ready to pounce upon me, if given an opportunity. I was watching their movements, the distance they had been keeping with me. They were coming near to me.

Suddenly, I saw my father coming towards me, huffing and puffing.

THURSDAY, 21 JUNE 2012

Travel Blues (Part IV) (Silchar to Guwahati)

Non-Fiction

RK Rishikesh SinhaThere are times when you are caught between two sets of people who think differently. What would happen if the task take place high in the mountain in a confusing, tensed environment between these two types of people. One such incident, I witnessed while travelling from Silchar to Guwahati.




My nap broke when the Sumo in which I was travelling stopped high in a mountain. It was dark all around, and I saw a long chain of elephantine night super buses with number plates of Assam and Tripura in front of us. I came to know, the Sumo was stopped due to heavy landslide. I discovered from my co-passengers that we are in a landslide-prone area. “Hell to this landslide!” I murmured.

Except women and children, and old people, who were on the bus, all men came on the road and started taking stock of the situation. Looking at the faces of the women, it seemed that they have surrendered their wish to reach Guwahati on time. In the crowd of people, there were jawans who were impatient with the blockade.

The spot of landslide was flooded with beams of lights emanating from the headlights of the buses from either side of the road; jawans who were travelling from different buses took the hasty and risky decision to clear the blockade. Their decision disturbed the civilian population. They said BRO officials will come, and they will clear the road. “Woh kab ayenge?” said a jawan from the group. “Tomorrow morning,” said a civilian person, and continued, “They will come with cranes, and will put fences to stop further landslide”. Till then, a big crowd had assembled and could be seen on the road; some loitering with no purpose, some talking in groups, and some speedily coming to the spot. There were people who were tense and confused, and some who have surrendered to the situation and were planning how to spend time till morning.

Making the situation bad to worse, rain started pouring. Thin column of muddy water from the mountain had started flowing down our feet. “The type of soil in the mountain is different. It will be dangerous to work upon it. The rain has started. It is even more dangerous to stay at this stretch,” said a person. “We have to catch trains tomorrow from Guwahati. We have to go a long way,” said someone from the crowd. “These people have brains in their knees,” someone muttered.

Ignoring the confusion that was prevailing at the spot, a jawan said hurriedly, “Let us clear the road. We need tools”. And the group of jawans spread like bees and went straight to their respective buses. My Sumo driver lied to them fearing his tools will get lost. In the rain, the group of jawans soon cleared a section of the road with whatever things they could lay their hands upon. One part of the road was now open for traffic.

The first Guwahati-bound night super bus crossed the spot. In the same way, the second bus crossed the spot, the third bus. Minutes after, the traffic stopped again. What happened, now? Small vehicles, and the buses from the either sides were trying to cross the stretch at the earliest thus creating a jam. “This is a new problem,” I said.

Soon the traffic smoothened. The Sumo in which I was sitting also crossed the spot. I saw the same group of jawans who took the decision to clear the blockade and dirtied their hands had taken charge of the spot. There was a sigh of relief amongst us that we are indeed out of the trap. “These people cleared the blockade. Had they not been here, we would have lived whole night in this jungle,” said the driver smilingly.





Pocha Ojha: An epoch-maker

Ramlal SinhaTreading a few steps away from the usual path trodden by most of his likes, an ability to blend his own creative arts with what he has inherited from a number of gurus, his happy-go-lucky lifestyle, especially when young and his ability to withstand controversies of all hues with a brave front and determination have contributed their bits to help Braja Kumar Sinha, or Pocha Ojha as he was better known, linger for a very long spell in the Manipuri rasakirtan mandap. In the process, he has created a gharana or shaili of his own that remains a hallmark on the horizon of the Bishnupriya Manipuri version of kirtanango. In a discipline where Ojhas Sukhdev, Dango, Salia, Chapta, Braja Ballab, Khaimoni, Ramsingh, Ramgopal, Nilo, Kalasena Rajkumar and others have been dazzling as bright stars, the likes of Ojha-poet Senarup, Ojhas Pocha, Godoi, Kartik, Sunani, Mohan Chand and a number of others emerged with the true Bishnupriya Manipuri flavour of rasakirtan. They rescued the form from the clutches of Bengali and Brajabali so as to make it available for the non-elite audience of the community, who received it with much appreciation and applause. This is why Ojha Pocha, one of the few frontrunners among the modern genre of ojhas (gurus) who successfully gave birth to the true Bishnupriya Manipuri version of rasakirtan, has been immortalised among members of the community. His numerous songs keep reverberating across the length and breadth of wherever his fellow community members reside.

Pocha Ojha, as he is popularly known in his community across India and Bangladesh, is a name known to all and sundry in the community as well as among those familiar with Bishnupriya Manipuri culture. Born to Jadav Sinha and Juthi Devi on June 14, 1937 in Singla, undivided Cachar district (now Karimganj), Braja Kumar Sinha studied till to class VII and did his basic training for LP school teacher, a profession from which he retired after a long stint of 33 years. His hobby horse, however, was quite different from teaching.

A born artiste, Pocha Ojha had a family ambience where his father and uncle, late Bijoy Sinha, were Manipuri Kirtanango singers who had the habit of rehearsing and teaching their poruas (students) every evening, regardless of season. If fact, words like off-season are alien to people who pursue Manipuri rasakirtan as their hobby — any time of the year is suitable for refining the art. Pocha Ojha, therefore, learnt the basics of kirtanango songs and related matters from attending his father and uncle’s rehearsals every evening at his home, much before he began formal training in the art form. He later began formal learning of kirtanango songs from his gurus in Bengali and Brajabali (or Brajabhasha) like everyone else did at that time.

Pocha Ojha’s debut in the rasakirtan mandap occurred when he was just 22 years old. In his maiden performance in a gurukirtan (odhivas), it so happened that the first pala (the spell of a troupe of artistes) couldn’t make an impact due to a heavy shower. During the second spell, young Pocha as the main




singer kept the audience spellbound as the rain came to a halt. Those of the vishnabas (devotees) who were of a contemplative mind interpreted the very incident to imply that the young singer could woo the rain god and performed his best in the mandap. Since then, he never looked back and continued to scale new heights and woo newer and newer audiences in Assam, Tripura and Bangladesh. Playing second fiddle to alternative media mogul Gokulananda, Pocha Ojha and a few other singers comprising a particular genre had to toil hard by composing songs in their mother tongue themselves and performing them in rasakirtan mandaps. They were translators as well.

They had to supply songs for themselves and other singers as the situation demanded. An almost total conversion of the songs from Bengali and Brajabali to Bishnupriya Manipuri could never be a cakewalk for singers or poets of any stature. Poet-singer Senarup, Pocha Ojha and others did what the ojhas prior to them should have done. Of course, poet Gosthabehari had started the venture much before them, albeit in piecemeal form. Singing rasakirtan, however, is not the only identity of Pocha Ojha. He had his contribution to basak (padakirtan) too. He scripted many a song in basak, gostholila and khubakesei, besides folksongs.

His position within the community was always understood and appreciated by the Bishnupriya Manipuri people. The Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha conferred the Gitaratna Award along with Silchar medal on him in 1956, when he was very young. In 2007, the Jagarani Mancha of Guwahati gave him the Gitiswami Award in recognition of his works.

On May 18, 2010, Pocha Ojha breathed his last bringing to an end a great epoch. He was one of the pillars of this phase in Bishnupriya Manipuri songs, standing with the likes of Ojhas Senarup, Kartik, Godoi, Gauro Gopal and others. But since then much water has flown down the Singla and the Barak without much progress in the movement of total adoption of Bishnupriya Manipuri in the rasakirtan mandap. Will Pocha Ojha’s disciples pay a befitting tribute to him by carrying the movement forward from where he had left? Time alone will tell.



Assam Search Engine: Bisarok

EXCLUSIVE SEARCH ENGINE ON ASSAMManash Pratim Gohain, TNN Jun 16, 2012, 01.46PM IST

NEW DELHI: Assam got its own search engine 'Bisarok'. The search engine has been launched to get results exclusively on queries and information related to Assam.




'Bisarok', means 'to search' in Assamese language, has been launched and has been linked to various websites of the Government of Assam and departments, educational institutions and media. The search engine is likely to give a new online experience related to searches on Assam. Built on Google custom search engine, the search engine would be collating and building a database of web properties exclusively of the state in the North East region.

'Bisarok' has been developed by RK Rishikesh Sinha, who had earlier created a similar custom search engine ('Bisarei') on Bishnupriya Manipuri. According to Sinha, apart from Google there was no link to get results particularly on Assam. Any web entity related to Assam can be part of 'Bisarok' ( https://sites.google.com/site/assamsearchenginebisarok/).

Courtesy: The Times of India

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ASSAM SEARCH ENGINE ‘BISAROK’ LAUNCHEDStaff Reporter

GUWAHATI, June 15 – A search engine titled ‘Bisarok’ – exclusively for Assam – has been launched. It has added websites of the Government of Assam, educational institutes, and the print, web and television media of the State.

With the use of ‘Bisarok – Assam Search Engine’, users would be experiencing a new online environment getting results of their queries related to Assam only.

Built on Google custom search engine, ‘Bisarok’ would be collating and building a database of web properties exclusively of the State.

Explaining the idea behind ‘Bisarok’, RK Rishikesh Sinha who had earlier created a similar custom search engine (‘Bisarei’) exclusively on Bishnupriya Manipuri, said that except Google there was no link to get results, if one sought information, particularly from the list of Assam government websites.

“As the results that Google show up do not meet the requirement, a necessity was felt to come up with a search engine exclusively for Assam,” Sinha said, adding that the search engine would help bring information and knowledge on Assam near to people.

Any web entity related to Assam can be part of ‘Bisarok’ (https://sites.google.com/site/assamsearchenginebisarok/).

Sinha said that still at a nascent stage, ‘Bisarok’ will be graduated as soon as possible after analyzing the response from its early adopters and with their feedback.




Courtesy: The Assam Tribune

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SEARCH ENGINE ON ASSAM, BISAROK, LAUNCHEDPost Bureau

GUWAHATI, June 12

With the launch of Assam Search Engine Bisarok, anyone who seeks to find information related to Assam, now would get a new online experience. They would get the queries of their search from the web entities of Assam only; all in a clutter-free environment.

Now they could fetch any information from the list of Assam-based websites maintained by the government of Assam (too big), media houses (be them print or television) and educational institutes. To be precise, Bisarok would be one-stop-search solution for the people to get any information from Assam-based websites.

Bisarok would be made more robust and intelligent with the inclusion of websites from business and other sectors of the state.

Built on Google Custom Search Engine, Bisarok would be collating and building a database of web property exclusively of the state.

Describing the idea behind “Bisarok – Assam Search Engine”, Rishikesh Rajkumar said except Google there was no link to get results, if one seeks information particularly from the list of Assam government websites and from media houses respectively, the results that Google shows up doesn’t meet the requirement, thereby a necessity was felt to come up with a search engine exclusively for Assam.

Any web entity related to Assam can be the part of Bisarok (https://sites.google.com/site/assamsearchenginebisarok/).



Travel Blues (Part III) (Silchar to Lumding)

Non-Fiction

RK Rishikesh SinhaRelationships that build up between co-passengers in journeys are sometimes very funny that fails to go unnoticed. Journeys appear as a moving theatre of human behavior. I recently witnessed while coming




from New Delhi to Guwahati, the simmering tension between two families got its ugly eruption at Maligaon. Both the families, including men and women, started abusing each other. I don’t understand why people fight in journeys, if there is no encroachment of reserved berth. However, fighting does take place, and sometimes they are diffused.

One such incident took place during a journey between Silchar Railway Station and Lumding, which is considered as the most scenic train routes in India. As soon as the train had left Silchar, and we made our arrangement, a man in late twenties started conversing with other co-passengers. Something that was welcomed initially became a public nuisance when his constant chattering on different topics didn’t stop till noon. The passengers in the whole bogie got irritated and it was decided to teach a lesson to him. I was confirmed that nobody would dare to go physical, understanding the racial gene that make up the passengers in the train.

People slept listening to his chattering, and when they awoke they heard the same chattering from him. He didn’t stop for a minute. He was catching passengers who got up at various stations to talk. Then from a station, a group of CRPF personnel in uniform with their trunks and beddings boarded. The person caught them.

Like a cinema hall, all the passengers in the bogie had already fixed their eyes on the person, guessing the fate of him. We all were waiting for the climax to unfold. He started his conversation complaining about India with them. More than a conversation, it took the shape of an argument. Both the parties were not silent. Their argument went on for hours, initially being sober and respectful, it turned rude and impolite. A Havildar-rank jawan came from “Aap” to “Tu” while debating with the person. Then the moment came, it seemed in the heat of anger and anguish, the jawans would fall upon the person.




“How much do you know about India? — You’re talking about US and other foreign countries. They got their independence centuries ago than India. — Do you know?” the voice boomed with such force that it stunned everyone in the bogie.

More than the fact, the belligerence of the jawan stopped the person to open his mouth for few minutes. There was a pin-drop silence in the whole bogie. Passengers were smiling looking at each other. Understanding that the topic would be harmful for him, the person changed the topic and he initiated another topic, and he asked the jawan, “Have you watched Sholay?” That was enough to bring passengers to chuckle and they were not bemused with his change of track. “Who haven’t watched Sholay?” said the jawan. “I have seen thrice. — Gabbar Singh’s role is my favourite,” said the person.

Even on the topics of movies, every time they locked horns with each other. As soon as the tension grew up, it was diffused by changing the name of the movie and by asking a question, “Have you seen this movie?” by the person. The person’s initial answer began like this, “I have watched…times.” Irritated with the person, the jawan in a complaining voice said, “Why do you watch every movie again and again?” Before his answer came, the train entered into Lumding platform. Cutting short the conversation, the person said, “Do visit my home in Silchar, if any time you get time. Since you people travel all over India.” In an annoying voice, the jawan said, “Half of the month, we remain in train. We meet lot of people like you in our journeys.” The train stopped at the platform. Then he got busy arranging the trunks and the beddings. While getting down from the train, he said to the person, “Is it necessary to visit your home?” Saying this, the group melted in the crowd of passengers.


Travel Blues (Part II) (Silchar to Siliguri)

Non-Fiction

RK Rishikesh SinhaI get goosebumps whenever I recall the 1993-94 floods in Assam. The tandav of devastation by mother earth on the life and property of people is still fresh and it fails to go away. And in that time of flood, my father and I had to leave Assam. It was a tortuous, harrowing journey that we took from Silchar to New Jalpaiguri (NJP).

Owing to flood, communication by bus between Silchar and Guwahati had been thrown out of gear. We started our journey from Srikona and boarded in a black-colour boat, usually seen in the Barak River and in its tributaries. Before me, I saw a vast sheet of water that stretched away out of sight.

At that moment, I had a wish if I could see a friend of mine at the spot since everybody would come to witness the level of water. As if God heard my wish, few minutes before we began our journey, I met my school friend Rajesh Sharma who came to see the water level.




It was painful experience for me to follow the same route that used to be once route to my school; but this time I will be travelling it by a boat. We started sailing, the bank and the people were becoming small, ultimately becoming invisible to our eyes. All that we could see around is water — and water. No sign of human, even vegetation. Nothing was spared. There was one boat and that was ours sailing in the sea. Neither there were boats ahead of us nor behind us. All that I was thinking where the people took refuge, where the livestock went. Something that was lingering was the only haunting hush and stillness after the engulfing devastation. Our boatman said that there had been stealing incidents from the passengers before. His comment disturbed the six passengers on the boat.

After few hours of continuous rowing sounds, there was a long patch of land like an island. It was Katakhal railway line. Since I knew the topography of the area well, I guessed there must be a river bridge, and the people of nearby village might be taking shelter in the railway line. But as soon as the railway line became clearly visible, my guess went wrong — there was no sign of human or cattle on the railway line. When I took notice of the boat’s position, I was awestruck and agitated that we were sailing above the Katakhal village. Learning the fact that like Katakhal village, how many villages above which we have been sailing, I was terrified inside. Water submerged everything.

I felt distress remembering an old lady who happened to be our relative. Her house was adjacent to the main road. Where she would have gone? Where her family would have taken shelter? I cannot recognize the entry of her house, where once our Shaktiman Army school truck had to be stopped due to some problem. And she came out with some plums for me and my friends. It was a proud moment for a little boy.

I saw the century-old British constructed Katakhal Bridge, a bridge that surprised anybody new to the region since it is used as a railway track as well as for vehicular traffic, something not seen in the rest of India. We passed adjacent to the bridge, sailing above the river, though there was no river. We sailed for hours without food or water under open sky since morning. And at last we saw the bank where our journey would end. Our journey in water ended reaching Panchgram at evening.

After one or two hours, we again boarded in a bus that would take us to Guwahati. As soon as it left Panchgram, I fell asleep. Next day early morning we reached Guwahati. We got down opposite to Apsara cinema hall. I read the name of the movie; it was Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke. There were no trains running from Guwahati to any part of India due to floods. We went to Paltan Bazar to board a bus to Siliguri.

The bus was packed full. There were passengers sitting on the floor of the bus; seat for one person were seated by two persons. I was given a small cane-made mura to seat near the engine. It was so small that I could sit scarcely. Sitting in that uncomfortable position, we began our new journey and in this way we left Assam. From Siliguri, we caught the train to reach our destination Srinagar.

TUESDAY, 12 JUNE 2012




The Brighter Side Of Darkness

Fiction

Bidisha SinhaIt had been a long day; long enough to be mistaken for two days and yet it was just one really long day. I had woken up to a deceitfully beautiful morning expecting nothing extraordinary. No chance meeting with a handsome stranger, no sudden inheritance of wealth from a distant relative, no empty space in a parking lot, no discount on a gorgeous dress, no lunch date and no dinner invitation. The usual morning kappa followed by the usual breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast seemed perfect to kick-start my day. I got down from the bed to the instant comfort of my slippers. those slippers were a gift from my mother. She claimed that the countless bumps on it of varying shapes and sizes were meant for 'good blood circulation'. Aah...she had always been a health freak and it only did us good. the slippers felt like a dream on my sleep-numbed feet. I reached for my cell phone on the bed-side table and checked if somebody considered me important enough to call or at least leave a message. I did have calls. Twelve calls from an unknown number! Somebody was desperately trying to reach me and i had no idea why! I dialled the number and a female voice answered.

'Hello'

'Umm...hello. Somebody tried to reach me from this number... I have twelve calls from this number.'

'Oh! Just hold on.'

'...'

'Hello'

I could recognize that 'hello' even if I heard it after a hundred years.

'Umm..hello. You called?'

'Yeah. How are you?'

'I am fine...you?'

'Well...I feel fine too'

'Are you alright?'

'Yeah. Can you come meet me today? There is something I want you to see.'

'Today?'




'Is that a problem?'

'No! No. When should I come?'

'Around noon'

'Ok'

'Dont take too long'

'Ok'

With that he hung up. I did not say 'goodbye' because saying 'goodbye' to Ryan was a sin. He had forbidden me to use that word ever. Meeting Ryan was a carefully laid out plan of destiny. It was love at first sight for me. The first thing I noticed were those mesmerizing brown eyes with tiny golden flecks in them. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes to look into mine. I was smitten by the honesty and the innocence in those eyes. His smile was genuine and like soft sunshine; warm and bright.

I had to meet him at noon and I did not want to keep him waiting. Unpunctuality made him really cross. I decided on a soft pink dress that Ryan said looked 'cool' on me. Personally pink wasn't my color but since Ryan liked it on me, I was only too happy to oblige. A quick glance at my watch told me it was time to get going. I knew my destination and the path leading to it so well that i could reach it even with my eyes closed. Within half an hour I reached the familiar building that had been Ryan's home since I have known him. It has been a long time since I first met him here. Nothing had changed about that place. The walls, the rooms and even the smell was just as it had been then. I knew exactly where Ryan would be waiting and my steps were unexpectedly hurried. I opened the door and saw him looking out of the window with those brown and golden eyes. I stopped in my tracks and stared at him feeling the rush of my overpowering love for him.

I called out his name and he turned to look at me. I could see the golden flecks dancing in his brown eyes. He came running towards me and hugged me hard. Then he looked at me with a scowl on his face.

'Ray-aan, not Ry-an! Can't you pronounce it right!'

'Ok "Ray-aan", am sorry...so what's the big surprise?'

'This'




It was a piece of paper. It was his masterpiece. He had drawn a girl with a circle for a face, two dots for eyes, a line for the nose and a curve for a smile. She had a pink frock on so I guessed it was me. Below the drawing of the girl Ryan had carefully written in all capitals-

I LOEV YOU.

'Did you like it? Its you. Did I spell that right? It says "I love you".'

'Its beautiful. Ray-aan you made me so beautiful.'

I was touched...I had tears welling up in my eyes and wrongly spelt 'LOEV' didn't matter at all.

'You know the nurse helped me with the spelling but I already knew it! She even let me use her phone to call you. I told her I would not take my meds till you come.'

'I am here now'

'Yeah. Mom and Dad are with the Doc. You know I will be going to heaven soon. Do you have a message for God? I can give it to him if you want.'

I didn't know what to say. I didn't have a message for God; I just had a complaint.

I had met Ryan at the children's ward of St. Agnes Medical Centre three summers ago. I had volunteered to work as a care-taker at the ward. On my first day, Ryan had come up to ask me what was wrong with me and would I be going to heaven with him. He had no idea what going to heaven was all about. He didn't know that I had no way to confirm if my message ever reached God. He made it all sound so wonderful. We talked for hours and talked some more. It was past visiting hours and I was asked to leave. Ryan frowned at the nurse as she came in to give him his dose for a little extra time on Earth. Ryan was living on borrowed time. After a hurried kiss on the cheeks, his sedatives took action and he felt drowsy. I kissed his forehead and slowly came out.

Ryan had leukemia. Though there was no possible treatment left, the sedatives eased the pain and helped him sleep. I drove back all the time thinking of Ryan. I got back home only to be greeted by loneliness and darkness. There was no electricity. I had always been afraid of the dark...but today for the first time I felt at ease with the darkness. Life is not always sunshine. I sat down on the floor and realized that I was still holding Ryan's drawing. I was glad that it was dark and in the darkness, unseen and unheard, I let my tears flow.





Travel Blues (Part I) (Srinagar - Jammu)

Non-Fiction

RK Rishikesh SinhaFrom the countless journeys that we undertake to travel from one place to another, some remains etched in our mind for various reasons — for being turned dangerous and fearsome, some becoming the theatre of human behaviour, and some just to brood over.

One such travel that would have remained just a journey, in few hours of its beginning, turned dangerous. It was my journey from Kashmir to Jammu. The 300-Km long journey began early morning in the winter season from Panthachowk, a BSF transit camp in Kashmir. I was the only boy in the fully-occupied bus with officers sitting in the front and the rest seating according to rank. The bus was iron-fenced in the windows to thwart any attempt of grenade attacks by terrorist.

On time, the bus started and it was accompanied with more buses and trucks and all left the gate. Like disciplined ants, all the vehicles were one after another and were on the wheels. As far as I could see on the road, there were only government vehicles of many Forces. If something that was haunting me and all the passengers in the bus, it was to get caught in a terrorist attack or in a snowfall.

Though there was no terrorist attack, indeed snowfall took place that was feared most. After travelling for few hours, when the convoy reached Qazikund, heavy snowfall halted the convoy. The falling of cotton-like snow from sky which looks so beautiful, and which makes the surrounding picturesque and heavenly, would be so unsafe and risky, I had never known before.

There was another fear that was surfacing in my mind of becoming easy prey to terrorist attack since earlier in the same place and in the same situation a bomb explosion in a goods-carrying BSF truck had blown our trunks.

Snowfall didn’t stop for hours. The rise in the height of the snowfall had reached the windows of the bus. It was unimaginable to believe that the whole bus was beneath snow. From morning till evening, we haven’t moved an inch; had there been no snowfall, we would have been travelling in the serpentine roads of the Himalayas. But we remained there in the same position till evening, gummed to our seats; waiting for the snowfall to stop. The tension was becoming very visible in the faces of the passengers; despite it, there was calmness and discipline in the bus. There was a fear if the snowball continues few hours more we will be buried live in the snowfall. Luckily, snowfall stopped when it reached the top of the window. After few hours, the convoy started moving in a snail pace. We all reached Jammu safely early morning next day tired and exhausted. We would have reached Jammu in the same day at evening if there hadn’t been any snowfall.





Bishnupriya Manipuri bodies demand dissolution of Development CouncilSpecial Correspondent

SILCHAR, June 9: Various Bishnupriya Manipuri bodies in a joint memorandum addressed to the Chief Minister of Assam and submitted through the Deputy Commissioner of Cachar have demanded dissolution of the Bishnupriya Manipuri Development Council on grounds of large scale corruption and irregularities in the utilization of government grants-in-aid of Rs 10 crore provided to the Council during 2010-11 by the Government of Assam. They also demanded its reconstitution with the members of the social organizations of repute for welfare of the community and for the sake of fairness and transparency in its functioning.

The memorandum alleged that there have been allegations from the people of the community against the Council which has not been constituted properly. The very constitution of the committee for Development Council, it has been pointed out, has not been done in consultation with the executive heads of Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha, the parent organization. Instead, the proposal for the issuance of notification of the committee has been signed by some ex office-bearers of the organization in flagrant violation of the laid down procedure.

Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha, Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Students’ Union, Bishnupriya Manipuri Gana Sangram Parishad, Bishnupriya Manipuri Women’s Organizations, Bishnupriya Manipuri Sahitya Sabha, Bishnupriya Manipuri Samaj Sanstha, Bishnupriya Manipuri Ex-Servicemen’s Organization and Bishnupriya Manipuri Andolan Parishad are the recognized social organizations on the forefront of all movements of the community and talks with the Government of Assam. Unfortunately, the representatives of these organizations have not been invited or taken into confidence in the process of forming the committee. It has been further alleged that such irregularities have been done at the behest of the then MLA of Patharkandi constituency, Kartik Sena Sinha with the malafide intention of getting the benefit of the post of chairman for himself.

The memorandum lists specific instances of how there has been large scale corruption in the utilization of government grants-in-aid of Rs 10 crore in violation of the standing instructions and guidelines. It has been in respect of the grants-in-aid in agriculture, public works department and veterinary sectors. In the name of income generating schemes and distribution of auto rickshaws and sewing machines. Allegation is that commission money from the beneficiaries have been collected through the office-bearers of the committee irregularly constituted. Though the beneficiaries under the scheme should be from BPL families, the norms have been flouted. The selection has been done arbitrarily. Beneficiaries selected also from affluent families, it has been pointed out.

Around 100 of the 196 beneficiaries selected for sewing machines belong to rich families, the memorandum alleged. Their names have also been furnished along with the representation. Even, some of the names listed for benefits under other schemes like SHG are fake. A detailed inquiry with physical




verification will reveal the truth. Disbursement of financial assistance to clubs and institutions, it has been alleged, involves large scale irregularities. No utilization certificates and actual payee receipts of the beneficiaries have been furnished when sought for by the bodies under RTI Act 2005. Neither advertisements have been made in local dailies for inviting applications for selection of beneficiaries under the schemes as pointed out earlier.

Dr Debendra Kumar Sinha, president of Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha, has pointed out that huge sums of money under grants-in-aid provided by the government have been siphoned off. This has been brought to the notice of the department of WPT and BC through series of representations and staging protest demonstrations in front of the office of the Deputy Commissioner of Cachar, but there has been no response. It is not only intriguing but also mysterious. The memorandum has been submitted in anticipation that immediate action will be initiated to probe all the documented allegations for remedial measures.


European excellence award for Assam girlPost Bureau

GUWAHATI, June 9

Roma Sinha, senior operational manager (East India and Nepal) at VFS Global won the “European Process Excellence” award, 2012 for her ‘Best Process Improvement project’ on business management. She is daughter of Rebati Mohan Sinha and Ranju Sinha, hailing from Bekirpar near Kabuganj in Cachar district. The award was presented during the recent PEX Week Europe Summit – a multiday event for process improvement professionals in London.


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GIRL FROM CACHAR BAGS INTERNATIONAL AWARD

Girl from Cachar bags international award From our Correspondent SILCHAR, May 18: Roma Sinha, senior operational manager at VFS Global, a multi-national company, won the European Process Excellence award 2012 for Best Process Improvement project on Business Management during the PEX Week Europe Summit recently held in London. She is the first Bishnupriya Manipuri woman to receive an international award. The Process Excellence awards have been established to honour, recognize and celebrate the projects that demonstrate true and best practices. The awards recognize the outstanding achievement in the field of process excellence, improving company, business impact and innovation. Roma Sinha is the younger daughter of Rebati Mohan Sinha and Ranju Sinha of Bekirpar village near




Kabikunj of Cachar district. Sadhan Purkaystha, a social activist and secretary general of Citizens’ Right Preservation Committee congratulated Roma on her success and wishes her for the better future.

Courtesy: Sentinel


Assam Search Engine BisarokAnyone who seeks to find information related to Assam, with the launch of Assam Search Engine Bisarok, now would get a new online experience. They would get the queries of their search from the web entities of Assam only; all in a clutter-free environment.

Now they could fetch any information from the list of websites maintained by the Government of Assam (it is too big), media houses (be it is print or television) of Assam, or it is from educational institutes (schools, colleges, universities) of Assam. In simple words, Bisarok would be one-stop search solution for the people to get any information from the Assam-based websites.

Bisarok would be made more robust and intelligent with the inclusion of websites from business and other sectors of the state.

You can share your experience. You can even submit websites to the Assam Search Engine Bisarok.


Gogoi urged to dissolve Bishnupriya Manipuri Dev CouncilPress Trust of India / Karimganj (Assam) June 10, 2012, 13:25

Several organisations of Bishnupriya Manipuri community have urged Assam Chief Minister Tarun Gogoi to dissolve the Bishnupriya Manipuri Development Council on grounds of alleged large scale corruption and irregularities in the utilization of government grants-in-aid.

President of Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha Debendra Kumar Sinha, in a memorandum alleged that the Council had indulged in large scale corruption in the utilisation of government grants-in-aid of Rs 10 crore provided during 2010-11.

He also demanded that the Council be reconstituted as the constitution of its committee was not done in consultation with the executive heads of the parent organisation - Nikhil Bishnupriya Manipuri Mahasabha.

Courtesy: Business Standard





Living with half a face

Fiction

Bidisha SinhaIt was a beautiful day; the sky was the perfect shade of blue. The scene outside was like an artist's impression of a perfect day. My heart was full of bubbling hope. I was finally going to tell him how much i love him. The past few weeks had been a frenzy; the initial denial and then the slow acceptance. My mind went on flashback mode: the first time we met, the first time i saw him smile, the first time we held hands and the night he proposed...moments engraved in my heart like a part of me. My phone beeped loudly, snapping me out of the flashback. I started scouting the sheets for the phone...love made me careless, clumsy and messy! After a thorough search lasting exactly 5 minutes, I found it amd my heart gave a jolt!

1 text received

"I hate the fact that the sun rays touch you before me."

Under normal circumstances (read: i actually know the sender and he appears to be my boyfriend or something!), I would have been thrilled but unfortunately there was nothing thrilling about sappy text messages from unknown numbers. Well, you see, I had a stalker, a totally harmless one though. Never did anything except sending creepy text messages. I had never bothered about him and today was not the day to start. My spirits were too high to be dampened by some weird text message. Its not everyday that a girl has a confession to make, even more so when the confession says 'I love you'!

I rounded up my morning activities at a frenetic pace. There was a bounce in my step making it look like a subtle hop. I dashed across my apartment humming 'Love is in the air'. I picked up my bag, locked the door and decided to take the stairs instead of the lift. I stepped out and saw the world through rose-tinted glasses. Everything looked strangely perfect...like nothing could go wrong today. I could feel my heart somersaulting inside...it was a beautiful feeling!

I walked to the bus stop and for some strange reason I felt that all eyes were on me like they could read my mind.

On the other side of the road I saw the usual group of guys, gawking at anyone who looked even remotely pretty. One in particular couldn’t take his eyes off of me. Agreed, I could be pretty when I wanted to but looking at someone like you would want her for dinner is downright disgusting!

A hawker was selling some comics on a sidestand on the footpath and my eyes fell upon a particular comic with Batman and Harvey 'Two-face' Dent on the cover. I remembered watching 'The Dark Knight' and crying silent tears for Aaron Eckhart even though Christian Bale had my full sympathies.




What happened next was such a blur that the next thing i knew was an intense burning sensation on the left side of my face-- a pain so intense, it made me pass out.

As I opened my eyes I realised that I was at some medical facility and the left side of my face was covered in gauze and felt raw. I longed for someone to tell me that it was okay to hurt so badly, but when the man in angelic white peered at me, he brought me a news fresh out of the oven called hell.

"The left side of your face is completely burned because of the attack."

Attack! What attack?? And it all came back to me like a blow to my soul-- the stalker, the hawker, the two-faced man and the unspoken confession.

As the doctor removed the gauze from my face, my hand instinctively reached for my face and the smoothness of my fingers met with the feel of a sculpture gone wrong. Mangled is the word that could describe it best. I dreaded facing the mirror...self pity and loathing crept in followed by a deep hatred for the unknown man who had done this to me. He had taken away my shot at a normal life--a life filled with love... It was so easy to hate him. My hatred made me hollow inside but on the outside it changed nothing. My face which no longer looked like mine hurt so bad that I wanted to die just so that the pain might stop. But first I needed answers.

'Why me?'

'Why now when I had finally mustered the courage to confess my love?'. In my heart I knew there were no answers. My one shot at love had been brutally snatched away. My future seemed like 'WHAT FUTURE??'!

The doctor told me that I had a visitor. I didn’t know whether to hide under the bed or jump out of the window! Who would want to see a girl with just half a face!

Of all people who could have walked in, it had to be him. I covered my face as best as i could with my hands as he approached. The tears I had been holding back turned traitors and began to trickle freely down my cheek. He gently removed my hands and flinched at the sight...I could have died just then if he hadn't taken that exact moment to wrap his arm around me and whisper into my ear.

" Its okay to hurt...its okay to cry----

I am here and I still love you."

And then I let out a sob which came out like a scream that rattled my very being but he held me till my eyes were dry and I had no tears left in me to shed. Right then I knew that with this man I could heal all wounds and overcome all obstacles...Suddenly living with half a face seemed a little easier because I had what 'two-face' had lost: Love and Hope.




FRIDAY, 8 JUNE 2012

Rath Yatra Festival

Shila SinhaRatha yatra is one of the greatest festivals of the bishnupriya manipuris. We Manipuris celebrate the occasion in the same manner as it is celebrated at Jagannath temple in Puri. It is here that the great saint of Bishnupriya manipuris shree shree Bhubaneswar Sadhubaba was blessed with darshan of Lord Vishnu. His ultimate desire of nandan darshan was fulfilled in the temple of Lord Jagannath of Puri, and so this temple is very dear to our people.

It is one of the most spectacular and colourful festivals on earth. Everything is on a scale befitting the great lord. The occasion is full of spectacle, drama and colour. This festival is a typical Indian fair of huge proportions. It is also the living embodiment of the synthesis of the tribal, the folk and the autochthonous with the classical, the elaborately formal and the sophisticated elements of the socio-cultural religious ethos of the Indian civilization. The festival is also known as Gudicha yatra, Ghosa yatra (in Puri), Dasabatara yatra and by a variety of other names. For the devotees and believers, it is considered the most auspicious occasion.

‘Rathe tu vamanam drishtwa punarjanama na vidyate’,

“A glimse of the Vamana the dwarf form, an incarnation of Lord Jagannatha is sure to ensure emancipation, to release from cycle of birth and death”.

Yatra is an essential part of the ritual of the Hindu system of worship. Yatra literally means travel or journey. Normally it is the representative deities of temples popularly known as Utsava murty, who pertake these journeys. The yatra for the ritual journey takes two forms—one involving the short circumbulation around the temple and the other involving a longer journey from the temple to some other destination. The yatra is considered as an important part of festivities and ceremonies of each temple and is considered as a special and sacred occasion.

Ratha yatra being unique among all yatras is the grandest festival of the supreme divinity, who has manifested in the Kaliyoga to emancipate humanity and to relieve them from their sufferings. Lord Jagannatha is identified fully with Vishnus and Krishna. A glimpse of Lord Jagannatha on the chariot is considered to be very auspicious and saints, poets and scriptures have repeatedly glorified the sanctity of this special festival. The sanctity of the festival is such that even a touch of the chariot or even the ropes with which these are pulled is considered enough to confer the results of several pious deeds or penance for ages.

The concept of the chariot has been explained in the Kathopanishada in the following words:




Atmanam rathinam vidhi sareeram rathamevatu, Buddhimtu saarathim viddhi marah pragrahmava cha.

“The body is the chariot and the soul is the deity carried in the chariot. The wisdom acts as the charioteer to control the mind and its thoughts”.

FRIDAY, 8 JUNE 2012

The Distant Relations

Fiction

RK Rishikesh Sinha

[1] “Postman!” — came a voice from the gate of our house.

I have never seen a postman visiting our house after we have shifted in our own house.

Eagerly I received the packet which was looking more of a wedding card. As soon as the postman handed over the packet, I opened it and found it was a wedding card indeed.

It was an invitation to a marriage. I checked where the packet has come from. It came from Tripura. I read the invitation

I solicit your presence along with the family on the occasion of marriage of my daughter Purabi Sinha with Prasanjit Sinha.

With Thanks

B Sinha (Father)

Miloti Sinha (Mother)

Biplab Sinha (Brother)

I kept the wedding card as it was received for my father to have a look at it later.

In the evening, I handed over the wedding card to my father.

My father said to my mother,

“Listen! Daughter of Babudon is getting married.”

With inquisitiveness I asked, “Who is Babudon?”




My father said, “He was with us in Bikaner and You have met them in Siliguri.”

“Going to Tripura to attend a marriage. — It is impossible!” said my mother.

I knew my mother wouldn’t agree with the cost of journey to attend the marriage. Whatsoever, Babudon is not our relative. And we don’t have close-knit relatives in Tripura. So, there was not an iota of chance visiting Tripura and that is for a marriage!

“Bikaner”

I heard innumerable times the name of the place Bikaner from many stories that my mother had told. I have grown up listening to these stories about the places my mother had visited with my father in his long tenure central job.

In every story, we have tales of families with whom my mother shared memorable relationship. Some stories were sweet memories of togetherness, and some were bitter experiences of hardship that she had to face in different cities and towns.

The city of Bikaner had a special place in my mother’s life. Immediately after her marriage and after my birth, it was the first place for her to visit outside her native place. She told that in Bikaner, Babudon was the only person of our language who used to visit our house regularly at evening. He was then a Bachelor. He never forgot to bring chocolate or biscuit for me on his every visit in our house.

During our stay in Bikaner, Babudon got married and brought along with him her newly-wed wife. The couple stayed with us until they arranged a new house for them. My mother found a new companion with Babudon’s wife.

After we left Bikaner, we were out of touch with them and the two families haven’t met since then.

This is the story about Babudon and Bikaner that I have heard from my mother.

****

[2] Looking at the wedding card, I asked my father, “Is it Babudon of Siliguri?”

I asked this question to confirm about the family whom I knew.

“Yes,” said my father.

My father’s answer confirmed my association with the family.

It has been more than a decade of my stay in Siliguri.




After the completion of my schooling, my father brought me to Siliguri to do college. Our arrival at Siliguri began with staying 3-days or so in Babudon’s house.

I still remember as soon as we get into his house, her wife welcomed us warmly with tea and snacks.

“You have grown up big. You were a child when I first saw you in Bikaner,” said Babudon’s wife.

I responded her with a smile.

After an hour or so, when we were completely relaxed, Babudon’s daughter came to the drawing room where we were sitting. Till then, listening to the conversation between my father and Babudon, I had come to know that her name is Purabi. She has recently passed Class 10 and she is now in Class XI (Science) in a nearby Kendriya Vidyalaya School.

“Nameste Uncle,” she greeted my father.

She looked at me.as if she wishes to greet me. I asked her, “How is your school?”

She said, “It is good — but we don’t have good Chemistry teacher”.

“Isn’t syllabus of Chemistry completely different and — very tough?” I asked her.

“I am failing to understand anything in Chemistry,” she said.

In a compassionate gesture, our conversation ended and she got busy to help her mother for our dinner.

****

[3] My father arranged me a room near to Babudon’s house and left immediately to the place of his posting.

Still I don’t know why I did my college from Siliguri. What had brought me to the place which was nowhere in the list of likeable places to start a new life away from home. I don’t find any answer, except — when you change your place, you change your destiny. Yes, destiny!

For a week or two, I remained closed to my room since college admission hadn’t started. My breakfast, lunch and dinner were arranged in Babudon’s house. Meal came as an only occasion to visit the house. The conversations which were long and vivid earlier had become short and customary.

One day Babudon’s wife introduced me to a boy of my age staying in her neighbourhood. His name was Amardeep Stavin, living alone in a rented house. I gelled with him very well and started spending more time in his room than in my room. He revealed a secret to me that boys are falling one over another to have a glimpse of Babudon’s daughter.




Time went on. Gradually, I had started cooking in my own room and no more I was visiting Babudon’s house for food. I had taken admission in Siliguri College of Commerce. I had started living in my own world away from the watchful eyes of my parents and from Babudon. Soon, I left that room and rented a new room near my college.

The day I was leaving my room, Babudon’s wife, his daughter and son came to visit me.

“Do visit us whenever you like. And don’t forget us,” said Babudon’s wife.

****

[4] Well settled in my new room in a new locality, I didn’t go to visit Babudon’s house. They almost fell from my memory. I started spending time with my friends in their hostel. I witnessed the intensity of students’ politics in the college campus and in the hostel. I learnt college politics had its impact in the whole town.

It was my first Diwali in Siliguri. I had never felt the pain of staying alone more than this day. I was missing my parent, my brothers and my sister. I was missing my home. I felt as if a vacuum has been created around me. At that moment of solitude, I remember visiting my guardian whom I have forgotten long back. But I dropped the idea of visiting them thinking my presence might splash water on their Diwali preparation. I remained inside my room whole day. In this way, I spent my first Diwali in Siliguri.

Next day, I don’t know what changed my mind, after taking lunch I took a bus to meet them. I slept in the whole one-and-half hour journey. When I got down from the bus, it was already evening and darkness has completely engulfed the whole surrounding. There was something in the air; I was feeling light as feather and happy as a child.

Soon, I found myself in front of the door. I knocked the door. My heart was pumping hard, not with fear — but with happiness. Not hearing steps of anybody, I knocked hard twice on the door. I heard someone coming to open the wooden door. The door opened, and with it a voice reverberated the whole house and the sound of the voice still echoes in my ear whenever I remember the moment.

“Mom! — Brother!” yelled Purabi.

Her welcoming voice was full of sisterly warmth. Her mirthful gesture spoke more than she could say by speaking.

“Brother! Why didn’t you come yesterday? On Diwali,” she complained.

Finding no answer to her question, I remained silent. And after few minutes, her mother came and asked the same question.

“Have dinner with us. Your uncle would be coming. We would all have dinner together,” she said to me.




This was my last meeting with Babudon’s family — with his wife, daughter and son. I didn't know when they left Siliguri until I met accidentally Amardeep Stavin after many months at the busy Hong Kong Market. He said that aunty had a wish to meet me, and many times she told him to contact me to give the message that they have been posted, and they are leaving Siliguri.

Staying in the same room, I completed my B.Com. In my 3-year stay, Durga Puja and Diwali never excited me when the whole Siliguri town gave a new look. I missed them a lot.

*****

[5] “What important are you writing at this midnight,” said my wife. She read the story that I am writing at the odd hours. With a change in tone, she asked me, “Are you attending Purabi’s marriage?” — “Yes”, I said. “Mother is not going. A week back, we have come from home,” she said. “Don’t worry about it! Sleep now. We will talk in morning.”

And the day came; my whole family — father, mother, my wife, and I — began our journey to attend Purabi’s marriage in Tripura.

FRIDAY, 8 JUNE 2012

Chetan Bhagat’s Revolution 2020

RK Rishikesh SinhaThe first thought that comes after reading Chetan Bhagat’s latest novel Revolution 2020 is: complete filmi. Except the author’s debut novel Five Point Someone which I found it interesting, the other novels have been utter disappointing. And Revolution 2020 has the story plot of zillionth-times oft repeated Hindi movie stories: two childhood friends, one becoming rich and powerful with corrupt practices and the other becoming a crusader of corruption; and not to guess they both love a girl!

Where the destinies of the trios end? Who gets the Gold prize of the girl’s love?

The story of Revolution 2020 is interlaced in and around the life of Gopal who from a humble background become a rich person, and his relationship with Raghav and Aarti. Gopal is unsuccessful; he failed to get through the engineering entrance exam of IIT and AIEEE whereas Raghav is successful; he passed the IIT-JEE entrance exam. A stroke of luck and a chance meeting with local MLA, laws are bent, government officials are greased, and Gopal opens up an engineering college. In opposite, Raghav doesn’t pursue engineering and starts publishing Revolution 2020 that fails to start off successfully.




Chetan’s characterization of Aarti, the only woman character, is not strong and is not at par with other leading characters. She plays a secondary role; there is no substance in her portrayal. Her story has been kept too simple.

Revolution 2020 is a just-to-read novel. There is nothing which will enchant you. Page-after-page, you will start getting the impression that you are watching a true Hindi movie where heroine appears to sing and dance. The story plot fails to grip the attention of the readers halfway.

To say about the lives of the three; Gopal is left alone with his big business dream; Raghav fetches the Gold prize of Aarti’s love. However, it is not happy ending for the readers.


Love Letter To Miss Nomore

Fiction

Bidisha Sinha

Dearest Miss Nomore

We have known each other for quite a while now but I don't think you will remember me too well. I have known you intimately for the past five years but I am well aware that I am just one in many in doing so. Although I have been possessed by the green monster for quite some time now, but I assure you that I have not taken to violence to prove my point. My love is like Dante's love, unrequitted but eternally pure. When I tell my friends about you, they call me crazy. Some say that you are a figment of my imagination, that I just made you up and you don't actually exist! But I guess that's because they haven't met you. I know that you are averse to the idea of company but you willingly entertain the curious kids in whites now and then. You have no idea how grateful I am to you for that because I was also once a curious kid in white and the day I met you changed my life completely. That whole day I thought of you; how your life had been, how you must have been. Your voice, your laugh, the way you would have tossed your hair back, the way you would have twisted a stray lock, your dreams, your ambitions intrigued me. I knew that you had been perfect, you still are. You taught me all that I needed to know and took the brunt of my mistakes. My mistakes scarred you but you never complained. Miss Nomore, I know that we can never be together in this life but I pledge my love to you for all the lives to come. My love is true and I hope you know that. I start my work as a medical practitioner tomorrow and if ever I become a success, it will only be because of you because whatever I learnt, I learnt on you. I know that the morgue is cold and lonely Miss Nomore, but know that you are loved truly by someone somewhere who dreams of your subtle beauty, your flawless cold body, your pure prematurely stopped heart and your silent uncomplaining nature.




Yours sincerely

XYZ

(MBBS)

[Roll no. - 82316]

Institute of Medical Science


Delhi blogger receives DILS gift of honourGUWAHATI, June 4

Blogger Rishikesh Rajkumar of Delhi received the Ningor Khuttol (Gift of Honour), 2011 from DILS for his valuable contribution to media, social works and literature through the website. The award was given at a function at Guwahati on Sunday last. The honour comprises a citation and Rs 2,000 in cash.

DILS is a socio-cultural and literary organisation with its head office at Nandangiri, Borbari in Guwahati.

Two others who were conferred on this honour are Uttam Sinha of America for his online contribution to the field of literature and social work and Pratibha Sinha of Guwahati, also for her contribution to the same field.

Rishkesh Rajkumar, co-owner of ‘Bishnupriya Manipuri online’, has successfully given a new dimension leading to a new level of understanding among the fellow beings of his community and others through the blog that has turned out to be a successful medium for the community that has been badly afflicted by the media vacuum for centuries together.

The award-giving ceremony was presided over by Gitiswami Janma Jayanti Udyapan Samiti, 2011 president Sushil Kumar Sinha, and the award was given away by Gitiswami Janma Jayanti Udyapan Samiti working president Col (retd) Bijoy Sinha. Among others, Jyoti Prakash Sinha, cine actor Rabi Sinha and Pupa Sinha were present on the occasion.





TUESDAY, 5 JUNE 2012

SPOTLIGHT: Jyoti Sinha

RK Rishikesh Sinha




There are people who take their hobby as their profession. The inner peace and joy which they get doing thing push them to give their body and soul. With scintillating performance in over 20 dramas under her belt, theatre still inspires Jyoti Sinha, a young talented artist from Bangladesh, to make stage her lifelong companion. “As long as I live…my life is nothing beyond theatre”, says the artist.

Jyoti has come a long way in her theatre journey. Till the age of 17 or 18, theatre was not more than any hobby for her — beyond singing, dancing and acting; now, it has become a medium of artistic expression for her. Her perception towards theatre changed when she went for higher study. “When I got admitted in Jahangirnuger University, and started studying Anthropology, I realized my social condition not only as a girl from an ethnic minority but also as a human being” says the young artist.

This maturity mellowed her talent to enact various shades of characters on stage. She acted princess in Ajobpurer Borshoboron which is her first stage performance, Shri Radha in Srikrisnakirtan, combative woman in Chondrokola, a young man in Kanailaler Sanai, a tyrant in Rudrachanda, quarrelsome queen in Laxmi Githanok, a widow and a mother in Debotar Gras, and four epic women in Kohe Birangona. Kohe Birangona came as a turning point in her career. The staging of the drama brought her near to the people and to the art critics. Many critics have called her acting technique as “Post Modern”. Where Ferdousi Mojumdar has blessed her for long life as an actress, contemporary artist Ritu Sattar was too elated with her performance in the drama Kohe Birangona, that as a token of appreciation he awarded her his gold ring. What more, a spectator watched the drama seven times!

Behind love and appreciation of the audience but what goes into the making of an artist that is also of a minority language speaker to perform in a different language especially with poetic dialogues! Jyoti overcame this hurdle with practice and dhyan and her belief upon the artistic medium that all the languages of art are an artist’s mother tongue. She believes diversity and dimensions are necessary for




an artist like her and language is one aspect of it. “Life is too short, but creative individuals have immense work to do in this short life,” she says.

Nevertheless, being a woman she had to face her own share of problems in her endeavor. Her initial days were not smooth and easy going as she had to face gender biasness. But it never bogged her down to the criticism hurled upon her. She silenced everyone by proving her new-found place as an artist in the world of theatre. “When I succeeded in proving my personality as an artist throughout the country (Bangladesh), all anti-voices were dissolving into silence,” she said.

Her recent new-found success came with her participation in two of the biggest international drama festivals in Dhaka and her tour to India. The young artist got an awe-inspiring response from the art fraternity and from the public alike. Sharing her experience, she said, “Never had I thought so much honour would be showered upon me… (the) love and respect (bestowed upon me) is unbelievable, unforgettable”.

Speaking about the current status of theatre in Bangladesh, she said that it is very diverse in themes and it is taken as a strong art medium. Young skilled directors are experimenting to use folk forms and thus giving shape to national drama in the country. To the question — where does minority-speaking language drama fit in the scene of national drama in Bangladesh? She said, “We (the Manipuri theatre) bear a smooth, lyrical, poetic, and sweet spiritual emotion in our performance; and a perfect body movement and energetic rhythmic acting style specify our presentation…they (Bengali theatre groups) warmly appreciate us”.

If someone is happy in the truest sense in the transformation of Jyoti Sinha becoming a promising artist, it is no other than Shuvashis Sinha, who discovered her talent and gave her the first opportunity to act in his drama Ajobpurer Borshoboron. Shuvashis, whom Jyoti take as her guru, still teaches her to learn the nuances of theatre.

Adapted from “Interview with Jyoti Sinha — The Spectacular Theatre Artist” Firaal, April 2012.

MONDAY, 4 JUNE 2012

Journey of Bishnupriya Manipuri music

BN SinhaI always had the privilege growing up with the belief that we are enriched with culture and dogmas which we have inherited traditionally. From the very childhood I have had the advantage to be brought up seeing people of Bishnupriya Manipuri community who are believed to be the idols of Bishnupriya Manipuri music and literature. Keeping an interest in music was obvious being neighbors of maestros like Pt.Matilal Sinha and Late Suronath Sinha apart from schoolmates of various communities who also used to engrossed with art and music. In my younger days, western classics like “Material Girl, Hotel




California, Sultans of Swings, Another brick in the wall, Final countdown etc.. were dictated youngsters along with the Hindi film songs of Kishore Kumar, which the then generation used to be fond of. Nevertheless, the enticement for Bishnupriya Manipuri music was never diminished.

Historians say that the evolution of Bishnupriya Manipuri song took place with “Boronor Ela” … songs of rain to the heaven like “boron de bouraja” etc. I have only heard about the legendary Bishnupriya Manipuri composers of yesteryears viz., Tonu Kirtanee, Gokulananda, Kalasena, Senarik etc., but never had the opportunity to listen them since their works were not conserved or propagated properly. Not to mention Gokulananda who is better known as Geetiswami Gokulananda had revolutionised and was instrumental to bring a renaissance to Bishnupriya Manipuri community with his “Pada kirtan”. Even modern generation kids can also mumble “kale kale kalor kotha nahunai nakorer”. Few other significant works also had been there in that era but unfortunately those were not archived.

Another great musician of our community Late Pt Nilmadhav Sinha who was born in Singari, Silchar, India was one of the dearest disciples of none other than Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore. Nilmadhav passed many of his early life in Jorasako Thakurbari in Kolkata, later he moved to Lucknow to propagate Rabindra culture to North India. He is the only Bishnupriya Manipuri musician who happened to perform in front of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first Prime Minister and Sarvapalli Radha Krishnan, President of India from 1962 to 1967. Shri Nilmadhav was a renowned name in Rabindra Sangeet. Being a colleague of Suchitra Mitra and Kanika Bandopadyay, Nilmadhav has very negligible contribution to Bishnupriya Manipuri music.

Seventies and eighties can be termed as the golden era of Bishnupriya Manipuri music when the evolution of many great compositions took place. Who can forget legendary songs like “Punno Tirtho Manipur Maati, Mani Moyee Mor Ema” by Late Sj. Golap Sinha. This song is more like an anthem for the Bishnupriya Manipuri community, so also there are many other compositions of Pt Matilal Sinha like “Loktake Kaader” etc., which certainly need to be preserved. The person who contributed most was Late Surokar Suronath Sinha, youngest brother of Late Jagat Mohan Sinha of Bhakatpur, Assam. Songs like “Aaji Rohei Rohei Panchjonno Emar Ning e”, “Hai Radhe More Basigo De ne”, “Jonom Jonome More Diyapetheis Hunar Monipure” are to name a few among many of Suronath’s creations. Suronath used to write, compose and sing himself and was highly instrumental to motivate the people involved in “Bhasha Andolan”. Mahishasur Mardini, Raasa and Arati songs were also created in Bishnupriya Manipuri language by Sh Suronath only in that golden era, the era of our language movement in India. Many songs based on many poems which are detesting and rebellious also on poems which are sublime and melancholic. Many other unsung heroes like, Beli Lady Kunjabati, the greatest “Sutradhari” and “Basokuli” Maharani and many other singers who used to perform “Khollik” and “Monshikha” were also of that era.

However, the momentum started plummeting with time along with the language movement; consequently all kind of cultural bustles got paused or inhibited. Nevertheless, the corollary was strong enough to inspire non- Bishnupriya Manipuri musicians to show interest in songs, like the one by Rising




group of Silchar spearheaded by Mriganka Gowasami and Bidhan Lakskar. It is always nostalgic to hear songs like “Taar Yaari Eta Jebakao Mone Aher” and “Aami Jir Jugor Jir Meipul Gi” etc.

The long pause started diminishing as we entered the i-networking era witnessing an eruption of gusto towards Bishnupriya Manipuri music and literature. Many youngsters started producing audio and video album of modern BM song also started posting on YouTube etc. Many gen Y singers emerged with their unique compositions. Hrishikesh, Tushar, Bithi, Subarna to name a few who already have had few albums in their kitty with hits like, “Monor Maloti”, “Jorom Oitou Mi Singarei go oiya”, “Tore Cheya”, “Jibone Morone Tor loge Thaitou”, “Jinar pothe” and many more. And above all, Tripura-born Bhajan and Ghazal singer Sushanta who already have become a household name in Bishnupriya Manipuri music with his unique style of semi classical religious songs. Sushanta being the disciple of bhajan king Anup Jalota has acquired all the qualities to become an excellent musician and already performed in many occasions in various places in India and Bangladesh. His collection of Bishnupriya Manipuri bhajans “Bhajan Amrit” can be found in every household of Bishnupriya Manipuri community. Few other band like “Jam Station” also emerged with songs of rock and sufi genre.

Nonetheless, all the hip hop of latest trend of music and compositions, the decade old legacy of Bishnupriya Manipuri classical songs composed by the great legends of yesteryears like Dr K P Sinha, Jagat Mohan Sinha, Biresh Sinha etc., is taken forward by Pt Matilal Sinha’s son Adhir who himself a maestro in classical music. Adhir Sinha has created name and fame on his own in Assam by giving his melodious voice to the legendary composition like, “Aar more ti ningsing nais” “Khalkoria Thaitou, Ahitei Buliya Kiya Ti Naile”, “O mor konak beibuni”, “Aajir E milon ehan” etc. But the song which always takes me to a cerebral trance with a nostalgic effect is Adhir singing…

“Suror bhubone ….tore mi denar moto aar nei …. Aaji tor janar din e..

Courtesy: "Suror Bhubone", Firaal

MONDAY, 4 JUNE 2012

Bishnupriya Manipuri Woman Bags International Award from CacharA senior operational manager at VFS Global (a multi-national company), Roma Sinha won the prestigious European Process Excellence Award 2012. She was awarded during the PEX Week Europe Summit for Best Process Improvement project on Business Management held in London recently. She is indeed the first Bishnupriya Manipuri woman to receive such an international award.

Courtesy: SilcharToday





Call of time and its right response

Topo SinghaTheir forefathers, apt in martial art (lathikhel or twin sticks), came to Assam from Manipur sometime in the 18th century, settled at Katakhal near Salchapra in Cachar district, continued to live at a village called Nandirgang, and provided security to others who were under security threat, of course when hired. In the events of land disputes under British India when the win in an ‘open and declared battle’ between the warring parties was one of the deciding criteria in determining ownership of disputed lands, most of the zamindars (landlords) used to hire the likes of Golapgiri and his sibling Chandra Kirti, all lathials of repute of this clan called Chirua Lokei, a cousin clan of Lempa Lokei or Lempa Raja, so as to ensure the ownership of disputed lands. This is not all. As and when they were requested for help in the event of torture by others, the likes of Golapgiri among the Chiruas turned generosity incarnates so as to ensure security of the oppressed. The irony, however, is that after independence of India this one of the bravest clans migrated to Assam from Manipur started to lose the applause of their valour; and now the very security of this once security-providing clan is under threat, thanks to the current imbalanced demographic situation they are under.

If the brief yet thought-provoking speech delivered by Prof. Kamini Mohan Sinha at the Chirua Milan (a congregation of the Chirua clan) held with his uncle Dabalgiri Sinha in the chair on Sunday last (April 29, 2012) is any indication, the Chiruas don’t want to live under the silhouette of their glorious past, rather they want to do something that befits them to claim themselves as the scions of the likes of Golapgiri, albeit in a different ball game altogether; in conformity with ethics, laws, norms and tastes of the time. The congregation was first of its kind in the history of the Bishnupriya Manipuris outside Manipur.

Setting the prime objectives of the congregation right – unity and integrity, development and security – Prof. Sinha said: “Unity is something that can pivot everything. We need to take special care of this aspect in our life if we are to live up to our expectations. Anything that divides a family, a clan and a community is a sin, and a person who indulges in such activities is a sinner. Lack of unity and integrity is something that a microscopic minority community like ours can ever afford to.”

Professor Sinha resented that the unity and integrity that his forefathers once had is seen neither in the very clan he belongs to nor in the community as a whole.

On development front, Prof. Sinha said: “It’s the yardstick that determines what we exactly are. We need to see that our children groom properly so that they can do something valuable for themselves, the clan and the community as a whole. I feel too much stress on our children to make them run after job avenues like engineering, medical and computer sciences after completion of ten plus two in the science stream needs a change. They should also be guided for career opportunities in the administrative services like IAS that need a cutthroat competition. Such career options can put them at the helm affairs, a factor that is very essential for the survival of a minority community like ours.”




On the security of the clan and the community as a whole, Prof. Sinha said: “There was no security threat to our clan at Katakhal from the next-door neighbours ever. However, in the recent past, we faced a situation that hasn’t allowed us to ensure smooth implementation of an anti-erosion scheme on the bank of the Katakhal, a tributary of the Barak. The major roadblock that the scheme had to hit was goonda tax from a section of people belonging to a group of neighbouring community. This clan lives at Nandirgang along the Katakhal, and the village may be gobbled up by the river anytime if anti-erosion measures are not taken right now. Over the years, security threat was quite alien to us, but we have got to know it now that gone are those days. The twin security threats staring at us are the voracious river and the highly imbalanced demography. We need to gauge the gravity of the situation and do the needful before it is too late.”

Before independence of India, a few Chiruas, for their skillful martial arts, had been given settlement near Kabuganj as the Bisnhupriya Manipuris living there were under the threat of attacks from the Luseis (now Mizos). The Chiruas who had settled there had ably protected others from attacks from Lusei hills, and taught the other fellow members of the community martial arts for their self-defence. The irony is that about a century downstream, their scions are under security threat. In this onslaught of time and culture, the Chiruas are keen to discover as to what has gone wrong in them, how and why.

Earlier in the day, Ananda Sinha, also a Chirua, gave a detailed account on the objectives of the congregation. He made a fervent appeal to all his fellow members in the clan and their relatives to cooperate with each other as and when they are in trouble or they have any Herculean tasks that demand collective efforts. He collected telephone numbers of all those gathered at the congregation so as to ensure smooth communication among them.

While Angshuman Sinha, a Chirua, told the gathering a few stories connected to legendary hero Golapgiri who had belonged to the Chirua clan, Rajkumar Chandradhvaja Sinha, a member from the cousin clan of Chirua, Lemparaja or Lempa Lokei, spoke on the relations between the two clans, and as to how a Lempa scion was coronated as the king in Pratapgarh in Karimganj district.

The meet didn’t end there. After the lunch, they formed a Chirua development body with Angshuman Sinha as the president and Ananda Sinha as the secretary. Prof. Kamini Sinha and Dabalgiri Sinha were appointed as advisers, besides other members.





Roma Sinha awarded "European Process Excellence” Award 2012

Ms. Roma Sinha, Senior Operational Manager (East India and Nepal) at VFS Global, a multinational company with its office based at Park Circus,Kolkata, won the “European Process Excellence” award 2012 for ‘Best Process Improvement project’ on Business Management. Daughter of Mr. Rebati Mohan Sinha and Mrs. Ranju Sinha of Bekirpar near Kabuganj, Roma resides in Mumbai. She has become probably the first Bishnupriya Manipuri woman to receive an International Award.

The awards were presented during the PEX Week Europe Summit – a multiday event for process improvement professionals in London, U.K. The Process Excellence awards have been established to honor, recognize and celebrate the projects that demonstrate true and best practices.




A total of eight awards in four categories– a winner and a honorary mention in each category, were handed out at the special recognition ceremony on Tuesday evening, the 24th April 2012, during the PEX Week Europe Summit. The awards represent outstanding achievement in the field of Process Excellence and improving Company operations. Also this award recognizes the business impact and innovation.

A division of International Quality & Productivity Center, the PEX network’s annual London Process Excellence Week is one of the most established events for networking, knowledge-share and benchmarking with Business Process Management Industry.


BMWF gains tensile strengthPost Bureau

GUWAHATI, April 24

In its triennial meeting held at Radha-Madhab Sebashram at Maligaon in Guwahati on Sunday with its president Dils Lakshmindra Sinha in the chair, the Bishnupriya Manipuri Writers’ Forum (BMWF) reconstituted and expanded its central executive body by inducting more writers into its fold.

With this expansion, the forum has gained a great deal of tensile strength matching the gravity of literary and cultural events like the recently held international Bishnupriya Manipuri literary and cultural festival it holds from time to time.

Following a unanimous decision, the forum, however, opted to re-elect Dils Sinha as its president, Narendra Kumar Sinha as vice-president and Santosh Sinha as general secretary. The triennial meeting expanded the central executive body of the forum by creating the post of an office secretary, two posts of advisers and increasing the number of executive members from three to 14. While poet Nanigopal Sinha and writer (advocate) Bimalesh Sinha have been elected as advisers, Ashok Sinha has been elected as the office secretary.

Poet Krishna Prasad Sinha, poet (hon captain) Satyabrata Sinha, writers Pratibha Sinha, Shyamasakhi Sinha, Moushami Sinha (senior), Moushami Sinha (junior), Rinku Sinha and Annie Sinha are among the new executive members in the expanded committee.

The meeting that began with a positive note after the successful completion of the two-day International Bishnupriya Manipuri Literary and Cultural Festival from February 18 this year took a number of resolutions. Publication of a collection of short stories, publication of the rachanabali (write-ups) of late Braja Kumar Sinha (Pocha Ojha), conducting workshops on short-story writing, poetry writing etc., according to Dils Sinha, are in the literary venture taken up by the triennial meeting of the forum.





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bishnupriya manipuri online digest june 2012 issue

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