Swept by a bordoisila

Illustration/Uday Mohite

Assamese or Axomiya, like other Indian languages, is very evocative. The Assamese have poetic names for children (Poorna Chandra, full moon), and even the time of day (godhuli, that swooningly poetic word for evening, or the time of cow-dust, when the cows come home). Lakshminath Bezbaroa, one of their finest literary stalwarts, has the honorific Sahityarathi or Charioteer of Literature. Just wonderful.

My latest word discovery is bordoisila, an unseasonal thunderstorm in April. Last week, I had been invited by IIT-Guwahati to give a lec-dem on The Art of Appreciating and Analysing Cinema. On the day of my lecture, there was a great thunderstorm - drum-rolling clouds, Bollywood-style lightning, cold winds and rain showers that sent the campus monkeys scampering. Local legend describes it as spring rushing to Assam, just as a young, married woman hurries to her mother's home for Bihu, the spring festival, on April 14. It must be similar to what the Bengalis call Kalbaisakhi, or nor'westers with thunderstorms, in April-May.

Chalchitra, the annual film festival of the Lumière Movie Club of IIT-G, led by Parv Sood and Yash Kulkarni, has a terrific programme. Hard to imagine the curators are techies doing engineering and mathematics, not film students. Likewise, the BolChobi Gauhati University Film Forum invited me to lecture on Women in Indian and South Asian Cinema. I am impressed by how an interdepartmental forum, including members from English, women's studies, history, economics, mass communications and European studies departments, discusses issues through film.
At the Dr Bhupen Hazarika Samadhi Kshetra memorial, a beautiful, austere, cement-coloured structure in Jalukbari, are displayed fascinating photos and information, and music played, of the singer, writer, musician and film director, so beloved to the Assamese. These include photos with other musicians, top politicians, with awards, with his family. Tragically, Kalpana Lajmi, his much younger, live-in life partner for decades till he died in 2011, remains for many Assamese, someone who "stole" their beloved poet-musician from them. She is barely acknowledged in two carefully chosen group photographs, listed under the bowdlerised caption: Meeting with Chanchal Khan and Kalpana Lajmi in Calcutta (according to my translator). Ouch.

But, Guwahati already has a festive air. At the famous Latasil Ground, locals are busy with Bihu preparations. Nearby, journalist Manorom Gogoi and team run the excellent Tholgiri shop-cum-restaurant, which stocks carefully curated traditional Northeast products, including endangered foodgrains such as Assamese black rice, local olive pickle, traditional Northeast weaves and dresses, and more. Over smoked tea made in bamboo and flavoursome black rice cake, he tells me he is determined to revive demand for 300 rice varieties in three years.
Finally, I go on a night river cruise on the Brahmaputra, a marvellous trip offering night views of Guwahati and the Umananda Island, shrouded in rain and mist, a lovely dinner and superb local talent, showcasing Sattriya songs and dances, Bihu dances, and inevitably, sigh, Bollywood songs.

From the river promenade (the Brahmaputra is also called Luit), you can see the statue of Assamese general Lachit Borphukan, who defeated the Mughals in the Battle of Saraighat of 1671, right in the river. Across the statue is the Kaamakaazi floating disco and, in the Azan Peer Park nearby, a statue of an Egyptian pharaoh. We get it. Guwahati is truly global.

Meenakshi Shedde is South Asia Consultant to the Berlin Film Festival, award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist. Reach her at meenakshishedde@gmail.com

Catch up on all the latest Crime, National, International and Hatke news here. Also download the new mid-day Android and iOS apps to get latest updates