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 Jun 2014 shaqila
Jayanta
We live in a small place,
In the midst of river,
Encircled by water
People said that
‘It is a largest river island’.

We call it
‘Majuli’!
Land placed
At centre!

There was a time
When,
Our life were self contain
With nature and culture!
But, almighty probably
Do not like it!

Inundation gradually shifted to floods,
Small strike of water on land
Converted strike of wild waves
Land takes away,
Crops started to damage,
People lost their land,
Water on the ground and beneath decline,
Water in well poisoned,
Our tradition cut loose!

The farmer......
The potter......
The craftsman......
The fisherman........
The weaver...........
The...........
All are migrated
To the island with concrete
and mock matter
In search of livelihood!

Those who are here
Like us,
Still waiting
With a hope, that
Almighty will change its mind,
‘Bless us!’
Again we will
Perform ‘Sinha- Jatra’ of
Post-modern era!
On the occasion of World Environment Day. Celebrated on 5th June. This year focal theme is “Small Island and Climate Change”.
‘Majuli’ is island located in the midst of river Brahmaputra in Assam, India. It was a heritage point of nature and culture; hub of Baisnobaite  (Sankari) religious and  cultural practices with numbers of cultural complexes. The rich nature nurtures the rich heritage of culture and people. But from several decades the island is facing threats of nature and people lost their valuable assets and livelihood. Moreover, ongoing weather and climatic anomalies divested the situation with crop failure, water crisis, and sudden divested floods. Moreover, in larger area ground water is contaminated with arsenic.  
There is need of strategic focus approach in the area for climate change adaptation and resilience planning.  

‘Sinha –Jatra’- first Assamese Bhauna (theatre).
They gasped for breath in that dark dungeon cell
A hundred and sixty six men huddled in black hell
In that hole of Fort William eighteen by fourteen
The screaming souls realized next morn wouldn’t be seen.

Two tiny windows were all there was high up on the wall
Slowly passed that night of June hung in deadly lull
Water water they wailed their throats were desert dry
The summer heat poured in sweats as the tears of their cry.

Two women were among them they were the first to go
Suffocated by lack of air their breathing began to slow
Was dying Tom’s fiancée and he wrung his sweated shirt
If could revive his moisture’s drop save life of sweetheart.

One by one they collapsed amid the buzz of death’s din
Begging for a drop of water in despair drinking *****
The dead stood on their feet there wasn’t a space to fall
Survived only forty three men among them Holwell!

In the history it’s known as the tragedy of black hole
With many riddles still misty the Bengal Nawab’s role
Account of that summer night the ghastly horror’s tale
It’s now known was exaggerated by Commander Holwell.
On 20 June 1756, as per the account of Holwell, out of the 166 Britons imprisoned at the order of Bengal's Nawab Siraj-ud-Daulah 123 perished in a tiny dungeon cell at Fort William in the city of Calcutta among them soldiers and civilians. The incident became known as the Black Hole of Calcutta. He reported only 43 survived. However later history with further researches prove his account was grossly exaggerated.
Life is one big probably not
but life is the only thing we've got
and they can't take that away,
or can they?

We get wrapped up,strapped down
bounced around
like a ******* clown
and we just smile,
while
they steal away our day and as
if that's not bad enough
they
stuff us into pigeonholes
steal our souls and
do we care?
we do not,because
this life is all we've got and they
know.
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