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My life, my story



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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