Everyone
has a story to tell: his or her own. I chose to tell my story for various
reasons and it has been published by Amazon. Let me present a few extracts from
the book.
To
start with, here’s the blurb:
Reading Autumn Shadows has
been a cathartic experience. He has not put his past to a palliative erasure, rather has discovered its value
as a trace, something to re-member and
re-launch into an adventure of love and life, redrawing the boundaries of humanity,
religion and spirituality. It is a reminder to individuals that revisiting our
lives and coming to terms with our journeys is well worth the effort to
reinvent ourselves and take the Nietzschean plunge into reality. The book also
states that love is personal, equally political, and a search.
By
Dr Jose D Maliekal, Author of Standstill Utopias and Professor of Philosophy
From
Chapter 12, ‘Second Class Citizen’:
In 1986, soon after my arrival in Shillong, the
state government deported about 10,000 Nepali people following demands from the
KSU. The credentials of these people were not even verified. People were
rounded off, packed into trucks like sardines and driven to Guwahati with the
injunction never to return. A year before this the Assam Accord was signed
bringing to an end a six-year agitation in that state by the All Assam
Student’s Union (AASU). This Memorandum of Settlement sought to identify and
deport all illegal immigrants from Bangladesh. Illegal immigration did not
abate but the AASU leader Prafulla Kumar Mahanta became the chief minister of
Assam months after the Accord was signed. Bull Lyngdoh, leader of the KSU,
walked in the footsteps of Mahanta and nurtured political ambitions. Many
immigrant people of Meghalaya would pay heavy prices for the political
ambitions of other leaders who emerged subsequently in KSU.
From
Chapter 17, ‘Games Sawanites Played’:
The Sharmas played a major role in Sawan. They had a peculiar penchant
for tugging history to themselves. They shaped the history and the destiny of
Sawan to a great extent. I should have considered myself fortunate to be invited
into their company. But unfortunately my personal proclivity was to keep a safe
distance from people if not run away from them altogether. Thus my probable
opportunity to be a more significant part of Sawan’s history and destiny was
lost though my palate learned the delights of tandoori chicken. Losing possible
conquests to flimsy delights was my substantial destiny.
The Sharmas knew what they wanted and how to get it. I knew neither. It
is more correct to say that I didn’t want anything more than a job that paid me
sufficiently well, a secure accommodation with good water supply, and enough
leisure for reading the books of my choice. Sawan gave me all of these. Unlike
the Sharmas, I had no big ambitions.
It is not their ambitions that set the Sharmas apart, however. Most
people are not much unlike Salvador Dali who at the age of six wanted to be a
cook, at seven wanted to be Napoleon, and ever since the ambition grew
steadily. Ambition is a good thing too as long as you know how far beyond
Napoleon you are capable of growing. Had they been in Europe, the Sharmas of
Sawan would have pre-empted the Battle of Waterloo by not letting Napoleon grow
beyond the territories they granted him. When Dr S. C. Biala succeeded Mr D. P.
Sharma as principal, that is exactly what happened. We will return to that in a
little while.
From
Chapter 19, ‘Godman’s Women’:
Gurinder Singh Dhillon, the godman of RSSB, visited Sawan only once. It
was a couple of months after his people had taken over the school’s management.
All the teachers and staff of the school were ordered to sit in the auditorium
while the godman came with a retinue of policemen in many escort vehicles. The
non-teaching staff like the gardeners and sweepers were all removed from the
scene. Later on, Mr Tyagi told us that the godman was interested only in seeing
how much area the campus covered. He refused to meet the students. When one of
the little boys, unable to endure the suspense, succeeded in circumventing the
teachers and prefects and moved out of the auditorium, he was chased back by a
guarding policeman. I wondered why the godman was so afraid even of a little
boy.
As trees vanished from the Asola-Bhatti forests, soon people started
vanishing from Sawan too. Many members of both the teaching and the supporting
staff were given quit orders on frivolous grounds. Many went to the court for
justice. Others decided not to fight against such a monstrously powerful
organisation as RSSB. Some searched for better alternatives in other schools
and left on their own.
The
book is available at Amazon.in
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