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Posts tagged ‘Everyday Life’

Two Poems by Rimi Nath

By Rimi Nath
Uzanbazar and Brahmaputra narrate the age old tales
Of hatred and bloodshed
They recount tales of people who claim to love them
But fail to love one another.

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Poem: Laitumkhrah

By Robin S Ngangom
No one looks at dark memorials
standing through lonely rain, their heads
trusting the sky’s emaciated shoulders,
no one will stop to look at the dead.

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Short Story: Sunset in the Hills

By Shikhandin
Her granddaughter-in-law was quietly wiping her own eyes. Her grandson's face was set in that men-don’t-cry grimace she remembered so well. The car jerked forward. The sun slipped out of the sky, pulling down the light with it. And then she couldn't see them anymore.

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Poem: Alu Pitika

By Sumana Roy
The plane kept circling the airport
like a monarch waiting for the throne.
Inside my eye was my mother’s hand –
mashed potatoes dried on it, from waiting.
It was news of home.

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Photo-Essay: Archery and its Aesthetics in Meghalaya

By Anand Sachin
Archery has been a favourite past-time for the Khasi tribe in Meghalaya. In the past, each village sent its best archers to the neighbouring village for a friendly competition called U Thingiong U Thingsaw. Then there were competitions that were held on festive days, while also in the memory of Meghalaya’s freedom fighters.

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Re-imagining working women: Glimpses from Northeast India

By Pfokrelo Kapesa
The general understanding of working women is so limited that only a tiny fraction is represented in our immediate perception of working women. This photo essay is an attempt at broadening the image and visuals of working women in Northeast India.

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“I will have my bread”: The waning significance of spirituality in the hills of eastern Himalayas

By Supromit Maiti
Shokpo Sherab Gyatso, a Mongolian astrologer is said to have built another monastery in 1850, which attracts your attention as you take the Hill Cart Road to Darjeeling. Once you stop at ‘Samten Choeling’, also known as Ghum Monastery, the number of tourists flocking the lawn would astonish you along with the visible absence of the locals.

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