A few words

I was born in the farthest eastern border of India to a micro-community known as Chakma in Arunachal Pradesh. Our mountains receive the first daylights of India. In our region, the water of the mighty Brahmaputra is as chill as the Himalayan ice kingdom it emerges from. The grasses grow taller than the healthiest bushes of Rajasthan. I will be visiting my homeland very shortly, before the first burst of the Dussehra cracker of this year; where, the cows graze on sweet tender grasses by the sparkling rivers, where cumulus clouds float like the prosperous cotton fields of India's heartland, where at nightfall the moon appears rounder and bigger than a Kalahari diamond, and, balmy night breezes seduces you to dreamland effortlessly.

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