Showing posts with label Apurba Bhuyan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apurba Bhuyan. Show all posts

Fiction: Manifestation

Apurba Bhuyan

Apurba Bhuyan


            As the news spread in the air, a hullabaloo stirred the small town. People started gathering around Banamali Gwala's ancestral property in the peripheral area of the town. The God Hanuman has manifested through a human here. Hanuman, in Indian mythology, the great disciple of lord Rama, the Supreme God. Hanuman is also worshipped with great devotion. So, the promotion of supernatural exhibitions of the incarnated Hanuman created immense curiosity even in the minds of far-flung people. Not only out of curiosity, many people became frantic with devotion to have a sight of the incarnated God. They took refuge in him to get rid of diseases and evil spirits. Incarnated Hanuman did not disappoint anyone. With a mace-like wooden stick, he used to touch the head of the persons who surrendered to him. To some, he tossed auspicious leaves of stone apple and to others flowers. It created hustle and bustle among the devotees to take his offerings. Persons like Gajen Dutta and Haranath Das attained importance because of the claim that they were aware of the secrets and the rituals of incarnated Hanuman. They took advantage in introducing the devotees to the supernatural, explaining the rules and collected the offerings of the devotees, who were convinced that, upon getting the grace of the incarnated Hanuman, their distresses and sufferings would be vanished. He did not ask anything from anyone. But the devotees offered money and grains as per the wishes of Gajen Dutta, Haranath Das and their team.
            The real name of the incarnated Hanuman was Kiranprasad. Many years ago, Kiranprasad's grandfather Ramprasad had come from a northern state in search of a job for his bread. Roaming here and there Ramprasad met Banmali Gwala's grandfather Hari Gwala. Hari favored and helped him to build a small hut in a corner of his land lying abandoned. Ramprasad started a cobbler's profession after his temporary settlement. Gradually Ramprasad became an indispensable part of the small town, bringing his wife and son from his place. After his death Ramprasad's son Laxmanprasad also adopted the same profession. Laxmanprasad married a native girl and strengthened his grasp in the society. His daughter also eloped with a boy of an established local family. Laxmanprasad thought of making his only son Kiranprasad capable of doing something by educating him to high school level. But suddenly Laxmanprasad died in a brief illness. Kiran had to leave school. 
In the meantime, Banmali Gwala thought of doing some business by himself evicting Laxmanprasad’s family who were living on his ancestral land without any endowment. They also stopped paying the nominal rent fixed by his father twenty years ago. Banamali's father Bholanath was a soft-hearted person. He never bothered with Laxmanprasad who started gradually grabbing their land. When Laxmanprasad was alive, Banamali Gwala had made a lot of hue and cry about this matter. Then Laxmanprasad requested him to allow them to stay there till any arrangements were made. But when Laxmanprasad suddenly died, Kiranprasad felt bolted out of the blue. Where would he go with his old mother?  Kiranprasad's business was also not the same as before as other two cobbler shops were opened nearby. Kiranprasad also raised his view that his family is occupying the property more than thirty years and no written agreement was made. So, he has the right to live in this place as per his wish. Fed up with Kiranprasad’s attitude, one day Banamali Gwala gathered some nearby people to make them witnesses and gave a final warning to Kiranprasad to vacate the house and land occupied by his family. He even threatened that if Kiranprasad himself would not vacate, he would forcefully drive him away.
            Three or four days after this incident, suddenly Kiranprasad’s mother started making noise that Kiranprasad had gone missing. Kiranprasad disappeared from his house without telling anything to his mother and there was no trace of him till noon the next day. Kiranprasad’s mother searched for him here and there, but when she could not find him, she started crying, smelling a foul play. She started saying that the people of Banamali Gwala might do something bad to Kiranprasad. The people of the neighborhood also searched for him. Next morning Banamali Gwala's wife Bindeshwari got a glimpse of Kiranprasad when she went out for a walk in the morning. Kiranprasad was found sitting on a twenty feet high branch of a huge banyan tree located behind Kiranprasad's house. His costume was also unique. He had wrapped only a red cloth around the waist. It was cold winter and it had rained in the last night. How had Kiranprasad climbed the tree and how had he stayed more than two days there in shivering cold? His eyes were closed in a meditative mode and there was no external movement of his body. The neighbors came to know about it. People started gathering. His mother pleaded with him in a bitter voice to come down from the tree. No, no response was seen from his side.
            Banamali Gwala uttered loudly, “Get down, stop the drama, do not blackmail emotionally. You will have to leave my land. I am giving you three more days. Leave my property soon.”
            Hearing Banamali’s voice, for the first time Kiranprasad opened his eyes in front of the people gathered there. Staring at Banamali steadily, he said in a serious tone, “I am giving you three days’ time. Your dynasty will be destroyed.” 
            Can feeble Kiranprasad's speech be so heavy? It was as if there had been a thunder from the sky. Whispers started in the crowd gathered there. They started staring at each other's face; what was happening after all. Banamali again abused Kiranprasad but he remained engrossed. Incidentally, from that day itself the only son of Banamali got high fever. Banamali's son's fever did not go down even after taking the medicine of the local priest, who cures people by giving traditional medicines. Banamali’s son started muttering feverishly, “God, God… take me to the God… oh…”
            Here Kiranprasad's companions Haranath, Gajan, Billu and others started propagating that God had incarnated in the body of Kiranprasad. He used to visit a distant Hanuman Mandir since three years. Now pleased with his devotion, the Lord has entered the body of Kiranprasad and staying on the banyan tree for three days. On the next Ekadashi, the auspicious eleventh day of the lunar fortnight, the God will come down to the earth. A place has to be arranged for the establishment of the deity. On the other hand, the health of Banamali's son was getting worse. Next day he hired a taxi and took his son to a doctor in the city. The doctor examined him and prescribed some costly medicines, but these did not show good results. Banamali’s son kept muttering “God...God” with folded hands and fell unconscious. People explained to Banmali that this was the result of his sin. He would be in distress unless he did not bow down to Kiranprasad as God entered in his body. Banamali's mother and wife also started saying this. 
Ultimately Banamali had to accept defeat. Banamali's son was taken before the “God.” By then an altar had been built under the majestic banyan tree. Lamps and incense sticks had been lit. Other materials for worship had been gathered. The filthy back yard of Banamali’s house was thoroughly cleaned and sanctified. That day was the Ekadashi. The day of the Lord's descent from the tree was pre-announced. Banamali's yard became vibrant with the sounds of drums, blowing of conch and hymns of the devotees. Someone from the crowd shouted, - “Look, look, how the leaves of the banyan tree have started flapping.” Everyone's eyes were fixed on the branch and leaves of the Banyan tree. Then another shouted, - “Brothers, God has given the signal, he will come down now.” People bowed down and sat down with devotion. 
Kiranprasad in a godly posture stood up on the branch of the banyan tree and from about twenty feet height he jumped to rest on the ground. Stretching both  legs, bending the upper part of his waist slightly forward, clenching both fists, puffing up his mouth, he remained standstill for a few moments making huss-huss sound from the nostrils and started circumambulating the banyan tree with majestic steps. After circumambulating the tree seven times, he sat on the decorated altar under the banyan tree and again closed his eyes in a mode of meditation. Haranath Das, who has been engaged in the work of propagating God, since the time of God's appearance, folded hands and said to the people soaked with devotion- “Devotees, he is Hanuman Baba appearing in front of you. Hanumanji is immortal as we know from our sacred books of religion. He is roaming around the world and the universe. Now he has appeared before you in this form. If you make Hanuman Baba satisfied then all your wishes will be fulfilled, all your troubles will be over. Baba will give you darshan openly for ten days from today. After ten days Baba will enter the temple that will be built soon. Everything is possible if the public wants. I hope that you devotees will gather as much donation as possible to establish the temple for the God within ten days.”
            “Yes…  yes.” – the devotees nodded in agreement and shouted, - “Jay Hanuman Baba” repeatedly.
            Only then Hanuman Baba opened his eyes again and looking at the devotees he said in a serious voice, “Jay Shree Ram, Jay Shree Ram, Jay Shree Ram.” Devotees also recited it thrice. Some special devotees sitting close to Baba offered floral tributes on Baba's body. At that time the name of Kiranprasad did not come to anyone's mind. Kiranprasad became Hanuman Baba. Here, wife and mother of Banamali Gwala fell at the feet of Hanuman Baba crying and hugging Banamali's sick son. Banamali also sat kneeling down before Baba with folded hands. Hanuman Baba put his hand over the boy's head. Sprinkling a few drops of water on his body from the brass pot with a stone apple leaf, Baba said to the boy’s grandmother, - “Go mother, give the child some warm milk to drink. With the grace of Shri Ram, he will be fine." This was the first treatment of Hanuman Baba. Anyway, the boy got well after two days.
            Banmali donated a piece of land, which was occupied by Kiranprasad’s family, to build a temple in writing in front of the public. Businessman Premchand Agarwala offered one truck of bricks. Oil trader Paritosh Mandal gave two bundles of tin for roofing. Similarly, some donated sacks of cement, while others donated sand. Jiten Bhumij, the mason of the area, took up the responsibility of making the temple without any remuneration. People started queuing up to work as laborers. Within ten days, the temple house and a room with brick walls and a tin roof were ready for Baba to live. The space was taken out by demolishing the small hut that had stood pathetically since the days of Kiranprasad's grandfather. After all, the grubby backyard of Banamali Gwala’s ancestral property was transformed into a shrine. Hanuman Baba started giving religious sermons to the devotees sitting under the banyan tree. Day by day the gathering of the people seeking his blessings increased. Hanuman Baba’s repute unfurled as his predictions and decretal captivated wealthy businessmen, legislators, political leaders, students, critical patients, doctors, lawyers, professors, and lovers too. How he predicted past and future, omens and remedies of the diversified people so convincingly has remained as mysterious as the fever of Banamali Gwala’s son.
***

Bio: Apurba Bhuyan is professionally an engineer and presently serving as a General Manager in a prominent oil and gas exploration and production company of India. Building his roots as an Assamese poet and writer he has written in various literary magazines, collections and e-magazines like Muse India, Setu magazine, Pratilipi etc. Besides Assamese he writes in Hindi and English and translates his works. His four poetry and two storybooks has been published in Assamese and one book of elegy in English has been published so far. Few of his representative works in Hindi can be accessed in Indian online editions “Kavita kosh Hindi” and “Gadya kosh Hindi”.
e-mail ID: bhuyana7@gmail.com

Earth Melodies: Apurba Bhuyan (poetry) and Anurag Kashyap (paintings)

Apurba Bhuyan

Drought

The shadow of rain is disappearing
But the seed knows 
how to spend the dry days   
Skilled farmers also pick 
the moment of sowing the seeds 
The chirping of thirsty Cuckoo 
keeps echoing in their hearts.
***
Drought by Anurag Kashyap

Anurag Kashyap

Incomplete Journey by Anurag Kashyap

A Journey Incomplete 

Abounding an aroma of love
a versatile traveler deserted the inn  
rebooted the journey
shutting a window for good 

The windows of flickering lights 
and the shadows of joy and sorrow
of calibrated wisdom
refurbish the soul

Desires weave the destiny,
destiny explores the avenue  
Every life seems incomplete 
but a part of a journey for the goal.
***

Longing by Anurag Kashyap


Longing for the Magnolias 
(With the memories of Covid-19 pandemic)  


Billions of years ago the big bang smashed the celestial power centre 
making the stars, galaxies, planets, fire balls and the dusts
The earth, initially a fireball became cool gradually from its crust 
under the cover of the celestial mists
After that it was raining, a continuous downpour
Water engulfed the surface of the earth
and amidst water the creation began

One day the water dwindled under the sun
The plants came out of the soft soil
And the ancient flower Magnolia surfaced worldwide
with many species and colours 
Magnolia – the flowers of love and life
are ancient than mankind

But men became arrogant, envious, and cruel
Probably the only species in the world 
who can stab unwarrantedly 
who are getting delirious for the desire of craving
but the flowers blooming in the valleys and dense forests
always greet with the flags of rejoice

The mankind shatters time and again 
with the reconstruction of the creation
but getting more intoxicated 
under the fragile mask of civilisation
Ferocious rulers are dreaming of winning the contenders
trampling the commoners
augmenting disastrous weapons and deadly viruses  
Bigoted priests are advocating conflicts and qualms 

But the Magnolias are blooming amidst solitude 
spreading gentle fragrance and the waves of love  
Forgive us O’ holy nature
the air, the water, and the sky
the thirsty river, the dark forests and the yearning animalia
forgive the imprudent mankind
who can destroy the forests for the skyscrapers
who are capturing the kingdom of animalia for the shake of livelihood 

People are digging their graveyards throughout the decades 
Look, how the cities like Wuhan, New work, Berlin, Milan, Peris, Madrid 
Tehran, Baghdad, Islamabad, Tokyo, Mosco, Malborne, Delhi, Mumbai
and the whole world became scary islands 
with the flick of frosty fingers of death 
Look, how the Wall Street, Dalal street, Paternoster square 
bulldozed by the rapid fall of Sensex
The hungry vagrants were roaming on the streets  
People were praying for life, making distance
suspecting each other as a carrier of the deadly COVID 19

People are already creating distance from each other 
Do not know when a phenomenon like big bang 
crashed the human nucleus
they are transforming like metamorphic viruses  
The poets, the artists, the great philosophers, and the reformists
screaming for no results 

Will humanity, trembling with the horror of death
bloom like the Magnolias some day!
***

Apurba Bhuyan is professionally an engineer and presently serving as a senior executive in a prominent oil and gas exploration company of India. From childhood, he has kept keen interest in literature. He also belongs to the “All Assam Sahitya Sabha”, a well-known literary organization of the state. Building his roots as an Assamese poet and writer he has written in various literary magazines, collections, and e-magazines like Muse India, Setu magazine, Research Ethics, Pratilipi etc. Besides Assamese he writes in Hindi and English and translates his works. His four poetry books, two story books in Assamese and one book of elegy in English have been published so far. Few of his representative works in Hindi can be accessed in Indian online editions "Kavita kosh Hindi" and "Gadya kosh Hindi".
e-mail ID: bhuyana7@gmail.com

Anurag Kashyap was a medical graduate with profound skill in paintings and won recognitions in national level too.
***

Poem: Kuldhara

Apurba Bhuyan
(The sorry tale of a haunted village in Jaisalmer)

- Apurba Bhuyan


Where the villagers have gone
Centuries have passed
The deserted huts falling around
Ghastly air murmuring 
Scratching the distorted walls of stone

It was the end of thirteenth century
The migrated priests of Pali settled here
Excavated Udhansar stepwell, that was worthy
Harvested the dry fields
With the grace of rivulet Kakni
They paved a road of glory

Kuldhara priests of Pali
Worshiped Goddess for prosperity
But rains dwindled with drought 
Kakni dried-up
Villagers nearby started to flee

For six long centuries a few Kuldhari struggled
There was no rain but scorching sun, that troubled
Alarming was the atrocities of Diwan Salim all at once
As on the pretext of waiving crop-share
He forced to marry the preacher’s daughter

The Villagers did not bow
But on that dejected night, they disappeared
Where they have gone
Were they immolated themselves cursing-
“No one can live here, no one can capture the lands”
And the scary nights are haunting Kuldhara till date.
***








Bio: Apurba Bhuyan is professionally an engineer and presently serving as a senior executive in a prominent oil and gas exploration company in India. He has keen interest in literature. Building his roots as an Assamese poet and writer, he also writes in Hindi and English. His five books of poetry and two books of stories have been published so far. Few of his representative works in Hindi can be accessed in Indian online editions "Kavita kosh Hindi" and "Gadya kosh Hindi".
e-mail ID: bhuyana7@gmail.com
 

Fiction: Wealth

Apurba Bhuyan

-Apurba Bhuyan

The monsoon clouds were roaming like herds of buffalos in the sky since evening and it suddenly broke down with intermittent lightning followed by thunders. Heavy downpouring started, as if the sky with its full satisfaction has grabbed the earth with the long fingers of the rain and has given sweet blows to the soil's bosom passionately. The thatched huts made of bamboo in the newly formed islet adjacent to the prominent river island Majuli trembled with the gust of rain and wind. This village is newly settled in the islet created by the river Brahmaputra. Due to the erosion of the Brahmaputra, many villages of South Majuli have been submerged in water. The people of these villages who were rendered homeless have taken shelter on this islet. Where the Brahmaputra cuts on one side, on the other hand it also gives place to the homeless people to take shelter by making such mounds and islands. 
                           Baloram also built a house of two rooms on the islet. A kitchen had also been made by putting a thatch next to it. Thinking that Rupali will need a place for a stove when he would bring her home. Otherwise, there was no need of a decent house for a buzzing person like Baloram. He managed his life without much thinking. Baloram and his elder brother, who were orphaned and made homeless in their childhood by a devasting flood of the Brahmaputra, did not even know when and how they started earning on their own. Their ancestral farms, even their house, fell prey to the Brahmaputra. It is heard that his brother, a little older than Baloram, had settled down somewhere towards Dhemaji town in the north of the Brahmaputra. He got married to a local girl there. After that he forgot to take care of Baloram. Baloram is also a strong young man. He does not curse the Brahmaputra. He does not even want to sit idle abusing his fate. So, as soon as he became capable of earning his bread on his own, the idea of setting up a family of his own began to stir in Baloram’s mind. Moreover, on seeing Rupali, a resident of a nearby village, the spark of establishing his own family flared up in his mind. Getting a meaningful hint from Rupali too, Baloram decided to bring her home soon. That is why after completing the new hut in a hurry he brought Rupali from her home without a formal marriage before the spring festival. Not because of the family's objection, but because of Rupali's two elder marriageable sisters they had thought of skipping the marriage. Moreover, Baloram did not have the capability to arrange his marriage. On the other hand, Rupali's mind also started fluttering its wings.
                           Baloram's hut trembled in the strong wind and rain. In every gust of the wind rainwater seeped through the eaves of the hut and started inundating inside. Baloram's hut glowed with the intermittent lightning in the sky. Everyone got scared of the nature's orgy. Screaming of frightened cows, buffalos, birds, insects were heard intermittently. But Baloram and Rupali did not have the leisure to look into the frenzy nature. This was the first day of their conjugal life. Like the crumbling sky, twenty-four-year-old Baloram and eighteen-year-old Rupali's scorching bodies were also restless to break. Like the gentle stroke of rain on the ground, sweet excitement was hitting their bodies. In the gratification of making love, the sensual bodies of both Baloram and Rupali became frenzied like the nature. Just as the first shower of spring infuses life into the dry heart of the nature, Baloram and Rupali also wanted to forget the sorrows of the world in the first embrace of love. The sputtering words of gratification started flying with the trickling tunes of the rain. After complete satisfaction, both became calm. The wind and rain had also stopped by then. A gust of cold wind coming from the river knocked straight into the hut. But it was not able to tame the zeal of the young blood. In front of them there were only the dreams of the days to come.
                             Both laid on the mat spread in the middle of the room. Clinging to Baloram's chest, Rupali suddenly sobbed. Her drops of tears were dripping over the bare chest of Baloram.
"Hey! What happened suddenly?'' - Baloram got shocked.
Remaining silent for a few moments, Rupali with a deep exhale said, "I am feeling scared?"
" Oh dear, why are you afraid, yes, I will do something. ''- Baloram comforted.
Staring closely to Rupali he again said- "Tell me, why have you started crying like this? Are you not happy to be with me?” 
“No, it is not like that. How can I live without you? But my sisters had frightened me after hearing about us, saying that I will repent by eloping with a clumsy man without a family. But my mother did not say anything like that. She has been suffering a lot since my father's death. Brother brought my sister-in-law and started living separately. He does not take care of us. My mother is managing our two time’s meals somehow. Sometimes we have to sleep with empty stomach. I did well by eloping with you. Mother's burden is lightened. Well tell me, how will our days run? There is nothing in your house for a bare livelihood.'' Rupali said in one breath.
                           "I shall manage everything. You do not need to worry. I have already decided. I will leave the job of herders under Harakant Mahajan. I will no longer look after his male buffalo. That is why I have started sowing urad-mustard occupying a few bighas of grazing land. Gopal, Nareshwar are also helping. I will also join the work of embanking the river under government job card from tomorrow itself. By the way, even Harkant Mahajan does not want to leave me. Gopal, Khogen, Nareshwar are there to graze his buffaloes. But yes, no one else can handle the young sturdy buffalo except me. When I climb on his back and pull the neck rope, he comes under control. Seeing his huge horns even Harakant Mahajan himself is afraid to go near him.'' Baloram said with pride.
                         “Then why he is nourishing the buffalo? Mahajan will get a good price if he sells it.'' Rupali said.
                          “Oh, this young buffalo is the pride of Harakant Mahajan. Why would sell? There is no other buffalo like it in the entire Majuli island. This time in the buffalo fighting of Magh, didn't you see his glory? One by one he threw down four heady buffaloes. Not only this time, every year Mahajan's chest swells with pride for this brawny buffalo. It is a matter of pride for me either. There is a demand for this dashy buffalo for impregnating female buffaloes in the nearby cattle sheds.'' Baloram said.
                       "Well, is it so? You are also like the sturdy buffalo. You also made me exhausted” Rupali said teasingly.
                        Baloram became serious. He told Rupali, "You know, yesterday I told Mahajan that I can't take care of his buffalo anymore. Everyone in the area knows about the bullying nature of Harkant Mahajan. He has a decent family with a beautiful wife, son, and daughter, yet he married the widow of Navin Master. The affair was going on while Navin master was alive and struggling for cancer as the people gossip. But no one dares to speak anything openly. In the pretext of calamity, everyone must extend their hands to Harakant Mahajan for help. Nevertheless, I clearly told Mahajan that I will do government work, I cannot stop my future for his slavery. Mahajan became envious. He said that he will see me. I will have to fall at his feet some days later. Damn, he considered me so weak…” Baloram exclaimed.
                "But you didn't even tell me about the government work..." Rupali said in a complaining tone.
                “The work of embanking the Brahmaputra has been going on towards that Nemati Ghat. I will also join there. Government job card has been given, what is called MNREGA or something like that. Rupeshwar Master's elder son has arranged for me. He is a political party man. You know, I must be present there tomorrow morning itself.'' Baloram said.
                  "Oh, the work of embanking is started in this rainy season. Where the government slept during the drought? People say that the work of embanking in the rain is not good. It means this time also the flood will destroy the dam, wash away our houses and crops.'' Rupali said like an intellectual.
"Leave it all. It is not our business to criticize the government. I got the job, that is the big deal. Now go to sleep.''
                    Baloram changed his side. Rupali kept weaving dreams of her future for a long time. She did not know when and how her eyes closed. She woke up at dawn to Baloram's shaking. By now Baloram had taken a bath and put on his old pant and shirt. It is better not to wear nice clothes while going to work. Yes, he has a nice pair of pant-shirt bought from the weekly fair for the wedding. He had bought two pairs of dress for Rupali from the market itself. Somehow, he managed to buy a small packet of vermilion, a vial of incense oil. For this he had taken some money from Mahajan, which had now run out. He had nothing in the name of savings. Thinking of taking it later, he had left some money with the Mahajan. The daughter of Khagen Master of their village got a job in the post office after passing college. She keeps telling people like Baloram to deposit money by opening an account in the post office. Baloram has thought that he will go to Khagen Master's daughter as soon as government work starts. Yes, savings are necessary.
                          Baloram said to Rupali, "You quickly take a bath and boil some rice for me. I will go out eating only with salt and chili. Today the first task is to catch up. Twenty kilometers to go. Some money to be managed before the Bihu festival. We must go to your house once, isn’t it? How can we go empty handed as a new couple seeking their blessings?”  
                          Rupali served him rice with burnt potato. The sun had not come out yet. The weather was a bit gray, but it seemed that the sun was just about to rise. While getting on his old bicycle, Baloram suddenly kissed Rupali standing nearby and said, "Stay well. I will return before evening.”
Rupali abusing the crow sitting on the nearby eaves said, "Look, how inauspiciously she is croaking. Today I will light a lamp at the temple of goddess. Moreover, today is the first day of your new job”
“Ok, but take someone along. Do not go alone. '' Baloram got on the bicycle.
                           It was almost dusk while Baloram returned. As soon as he came, he saw that the bamboo gate was lying in the courtyard. The newly planted banana, battle-nut plants seem to have been destroyed by the cows or buffaloes. Could not Rupali keep her eyes? Calling Rupali, Baloram entered the room banging the door. But the scene inside terrified him.
                            "Rupali, what has happened to you?" Baloram murmured. She screamed, "Don't come near me. The beast touched me…." She started banging her head against the wall.
It was as if the ground slipped under Baloram's feet. His whole body shook as if it acted in a strong earthquake. He immediately got excited and shouted, "Who is that bastard, tell me his name. I will tear him to pieces...”
                             Crying Rupali said, " That animal was your Harakant Mahajan. As you did not go to his place, he came here looking for you. He got angrier on seeing me. I told that you have gone on government work. Presuming, you have left his job for me only, he shouted on me. At that time, I had reached home visiting the temple. He thrashed me to the ground and broke down on me. I want to die, I want to die.'' Rupali started rolling over the ground crying and scratching her distorted hairs.
                           Baloram trembled with anger. His countenance became stern. Taking out the cleaver he had kept hanging on the wall, he hurriedly left the room. Then suddenly rain drops started falling outside and the thunder of clouds shattered the sky. As soon as he came out, Baloram cut the banana plant planted near the yard with one stroke of the cleaver as if he has blown the neck of Harakant. He started running towards the fields in front of his hut. Harkant Mahajan's house is on the other side of the field. Baloram was ready for war like a buffalo. Rupali was running behind him. Her sari has slipped from her body. She wrapped Baloram in her arms from behind. She sobbed, "You can't go to Harakant's house. You are going to kill him, but the beast may harm you either. How will I live if something happens to you? Just think about our dreams…” Baloram became silent. His mind keeps on beating. The cleaver fall to the ground from his relaxed hands. He turned and wrapped Rupali in his arms. Getting drenched in the torrential rain, Rupali started sobbing clinging to Baloram's chest. Baloram's eyes also started shedding tears. In the gray light of the evening, waves of silvery water started drowning the field.
***

Bio: Apurba Bhuyan
Age 54 years. Professionally an engineer and presently serving as a senior executive in a prominent oil and gas exploration company of India. From childhood, he has kept keen interest in literature. He also belongs to the “All Assam Sahitya Sabha” a well-known literary organization of the state. Building his roots as an Assamese poet and writer he has written in various literary magazines, collections, and e-magazines. Besides Assamese he writes in Hindi and English and translates his works. His four poetry and two no story books have been published in Assamese so far. His works can be seen in Muse India, FFP Poetry forum, Poem Hunter, Pratilipi etc. Few of his representative works in Hindi can be accessed in Indian online editions "Kavita kosh Hindi" and "Gadya kosh Hindi".