Chai Chalk Chatter

Our identities are invariably multi-faceted with varied loci and even though we would like to believe that a lot of our actions are influenced by a strong locus of control yet it is only a naive expression to deny the existence of an external locus of identity. I am no exception, I do need a similar recognition and acceptance of my existence. I grew up in a sleepy ‘90s Shillong that was at the time basking in its newly found neo-liberal prosperity yet drowned in its colonial hangover. My neighborhood is one that has Marwari families, a Manipuri family, a Garo family, and a Naga family among others. While one of my next-door neighbors’ is an Assamese, the other a Khasi. The 1990s was an interesting time when the transition from the analog to the digital was only beginning to take place. The complaints of kids being occupied with the virtual world were not as prominent as kids trespassing every property in the area were. It is probably this multi-cultural setup that has enabled me to inc...

In my attempt to seek refuge in the thought of being a Bengali, I am not quite sure if I have imagined my community, my conviction is challenged every time I am faced with a dilemma as is prevalent of the times. These are trying times, a time when the entirety of the Citizenship Debate is under consideration. These are times when even the most logical, moderate and learned mind become polarized into asserting what they think is right or wrong but writing this particular piece, I guess I am doing the same too. Mine is an existential crisis which I believe is a product of my readings and contemplation of the concept of Imagined Communities (1986) by Benedict Anderson. Anderson has been able to make me question the concept of ‘the community’ and this is perhaps the reason why I fail to understand a very learned friend of mine when he/ she/ it (let’s try to keep it gender neutral for concerns of anonymity) says, reacting to the observance of the ‘birth anniversary of Rabindranath T...

I was reading an article on scroll.in, shared by a friend on Facebook. This small piece of writing was initially meant to be a comment on her post but when I started putting my thoughts to words, it became too long for a Facebook comment and in fact became a culmination of the thoughts that the respective article managed to congregate, in my mind. For the original article, please follow: http://bit.ly/2uaC8xp I grew up in the traumatic 90's and the early 2000's. Even as a kid, more importantly a non-tribal kid, being called a 'Dkhar' (an outsider) was a very normal thing in the beautiful Scotland of the East. Children tend to have their own quarrels but them being of the racist nature, at such a tender age speaks about a cultural conditioning drowned in hate. I remember the incident discussed in the article and I also remember the shattered glasses. It was like the Scotland of the East's very own 'kristallnacht', except that it was in broad da...