I’m not a patriotic type. But, sometimes, I really miss my home, in Assam, and I know this when I start reciting Asomiya poems I had read eons ago.
Today, I remembered this Nilomani Phukan poem, but I couldn’t remember the whole text, a few lines wouldn’t just appear. I then resorted to Google, but the poem is nowhere, a few other poems are there, and a few English translations as well. But, not this poem; this poems has always been my favourite, there’s a ring to it that makes it so familiar….
Here’s a hurried translation of the lines I remember.
Slicing and dicing your fern fingers
It’s you who sells darkness in Azara market.
Elder sister, where do you live?
Do people die there?
At midnight, does the river sneak into your house?
Elder sister, has your man returned home?