The discourse on indigeneity has been a bone of contention in the social and political life in Assam. This discourse should be discarded. It is…
Katkum ka Baibl ki khun Israel ki ju kam ba ki dei ka Jaitbynriew kaba la jied kyrpang bad kumta ki mutdur bad kwah ban pynneh ia ka jingkhuid jong ka snam bad ki la pyrshang ban ym pynjaboh ne pynjngut ia ka da kaba khanglad ia ka jingshong kha khleh. Ym tang katta, ka la don ruh ka khep ba ki pyrshang da ka bor ban pynkhuid ia ka snam da kaba kyntait ne pynїap ia ki bym dei ki Jiw ne ki shiteng Jiw.
We have to aware of our status as an indigenous tribe but we must also not forget the implications of the class system in our own state/society. By the way what are the rules of our own Shillong Golf Club? Are all the classes allowed to enter it? And if not what are we going to do about it?
“So where does your son work?” I asked; ‘Hajirabad’, replied Ghanshyam Thapa, a Nepali elder from Bhutankhuti village falling under Bodoland Territorial Council (BTC). Confused initially, I said that it’s Hyderabad, in vain though. “Yes, that place – Hajirabad” replied Ghanshyam. Later it dawned in my mind that the apparent linguistic travesty of Ghanshyam Thapa inadvertently represented the stark reality of Bhutankhuti along with most of the villages of the region falling under Baksa district in Western Assam. Hajira in Assamese roughly translates in English as labour, hence as Hyderabad hosts a large number of migrants from northeast India, it becomes ‘Hajirabad’ to Ghyansam Thapa. Bhutankhuti is the last village in India before the Bhutan border; lying 21 km north of the National highway 31. A random interview in the households of the nearby villages, across the different communities would provide similar narratives of out migration.