Dearest Homosapiens of the Globe,
The dusk has made it’s prevalence. The sun with its red hues has begun the journey to be absorbed by the loving arms of the mighty Brahmaputra. The sky has grown through another day, from the bright blue shade after a fortnight till camouflaging with the few left “Hibiscus” flowers in the garden, it has been a witness of million more stories today.
Under this one large beautiful sky, I too have my story to share, an unique and a beautiful one, filled with it’s own spheres of ecstasy and pyramids of hurdles. I am a mother, I am the soil that 3.9 crores of people call it as a home. The way every home has its own paths of leading life, the ones under my shelter and love have it too. I nourish them all with the same values, of brotherhood and patriotism, of gratitude and respect. With hopes in my heart that nobody sleeps hungry tonight, and prayers in my mind that no child of mine faces injustice today, I breathe into a new beginning through each of the souls.
Not all of my sons are born to be Lachit Borphukon, nor are all of my daughters brave like Kanaklata, as a mother I know, I understand. For I have witnessed thousands come and depart. Each of them different, their stories, their struggles, their paths. But the day that makes me smile like i have never before, is when each of them steps out of their comfort zones, and introduce themselves proudly to the world as my child, as a “Proud Assamese”.
Every moment that passes by, always has a new emotion in hold for me. If now the taste of success relishes me, the succeeding moment could bring the bitterness of suffering with it. If one day it is joyous and sunny, the other day it could be clouds and thunder. I have seen both the flips of the coin. The stories of my daughters reaching the zenith of success are near to my heart, but to those daughters of mine whose respect i have seen being snatched away, a part of me goes away with her.
From the flesh and bones i have seen separating in my womb, to the sleepless hungry nights my children have faced, the floods and the aftermath, the communal mob lynchings of the innocent. This mother who speaks today was brutally hurt many times through many scenarios. I keep my sorrows hidden, my wounds covered, and continue the fight alone, with a belief of bringing back humanity the way it was earlier.
If I have seen the brave ones laying down their lives to protect me, i also have seen a few who fed and grew in my love but a sharp piercing knife in my body is what they returned. I do not expect, I only am a giver. The resources, the biodiversity, the pride, all is for them. The only hope I breathe with is that my children know how to utilize them selflessly saving for my future generations who’d call me a home.
I am bright and beautiful, with foggy hills surrounding me, grains growing off my womb feeding my progenies. The festivals make me colorful and glowing, the “Gamusa”, the “Japi” , the one horned rhinoceros, and the beautiful sun kissed tea gardens are my pride. I too have hurdles, but i never preach to give up. I do not complain, I do not want any of the counterfeit helping hands or sudden shocking humbleness.
I am strong, I am mighty, I have learnt to heal my own wounds and win the battles that questions my existence. I breathe with all the wounds, for they make me remember the journey i have succeeded and the more that is yet to come. To my children i have only a thing to say, your mother Assam is the strongest, she will heal and protect with unity and make the deserving one win and smile at the end.