Anup Chetia

Nothing makes me more home sick, more nostalgic than the thought of visiting Assam. Trapped as it is by a providence of birth in Bangladesh (in 1957), born to proud Assamese Muslim parents who immigrated in 1952 to East Pakistan from Borholla and Jorhat, my life has been an endless limbo when it came to the question of identity. I was born a citizen of Pakistan and after 1971 by default became a citizen of the Peoples Republic of Bangladesh, yet I was raised as an innocent Assamese child by my parents with a 'cursed sense of simplicity', with strict regimen in the practice of the Assamese language at home, and appreciation of its rich culture and heritage, with songs and Bihu festivities and its observance within the tight knit communities in Bangladesh from ujoni Asom or upper Assam. I had every reason to hold my head high with pride. The greatest gift that I have inherited from my parents is an ability to speak the purest of Assamese in the Sibsagar-Jorhat dialect which leaves many, especially in Assam awestruck ! Yet in my impressionable childhood when it came to visiting Assam they were rare and in-between occurrences and would happen during my winter vacations from school or during the weddings of any of my maternal uncles or aunts – who were in the dozens! In Assam my earliest recollections is getting thoroughly spoilt with gifts that were heaped on me, playing mischievous games and pranks with my cousins who were over fifty in number, the visit to my parental Gorajan Tea Estate in Borholla on a horse driven buggy, and the incessant travels to Jorhat Town, Dibrugarh Tezpur, Guwahati, Furkating, and several more. The greatest treat in my visit to Assam would be the family picnics or the shikars or hunts organized by my uncles. It was with a sense of pride that I would hold in my hand the array of family owned 12 bore shotguns, the .22 bore rifles and of course the 'pride of the aristocracy' the Browning Citori double barreled guns. My parents never permitted me to shoot a gun without an elder overseeing me – nor did they permit me to shoot and kill animals, so my joining the shikars was mainly for the fun of it all and overnight camping and the occasional pigeon that I would defy my Dad's instruction and shoot anyway. However two things about Assam continued to attract me like a magnet and perhaps still does, its natural beauty and its people – who I have no hesitation to state are perhaps the finest, gentle, humorous and polite folks I have met anywhere in the world.