This piece should be read as a contemplation of what I have recently been teaching my final semester students. So I thought to myself, what are the things I see everyday? Are they my geographical memory? While teaching Mamang Dai’s poem, Small Towns and the River, I had to explain them from the beginning of beginning. Since this poem is read as part of Postcolonial Literatures, I had to explain to them how exactly Dai’s poem fits into the domain of Postcolonial Literature.
I started with basic history. I taught them about seven sisters, at which I was surprised to know that they didn’t know about the seven states of the Northeast. This made it evident, why Northeast Indians complain of being deprived or feeling isolated from rest of India.
I had to explain, why her collection of poems[River Poems] have multiple references to mountains and rivers. After explaining them the notion of geographical memory, I asked them to imagine them writing a poem about their hometown. There was abundance of response as they joyed themselves with the popular places of their hometown.
As I write this piece, I am travelling on a train. Beside me lies the vast naked fields; some- lightly green, with the newly sowed paddy. The sun sets with a rosy glow. I can see a group of young boys resting on concrete seats beside the field. Their cycles stand on the field, waiting for its owner to ride them and paddle away, home, before night falls.
Our train stops to make way for the same trains, Shatabdi and Tebhaga, I saw travelling towards Kolkata in the morning.
The farmers are returning with a plow hanging on their shoulders. Swarm of Vehicles wait at the railway gate for the trains to pass. Important towns have overpasses, while smaller towns don’t [probably lack of funding]. They have underpasses. The newly recruited boy in shaggy track suit, waves the green flag to the passing trains. A man stands alone on the dirty beam on Mayurakshi [This river has played a big role in the geographical memory of the writer Tarasankar Bandyopadhyay]. He seems to be supervising…I don’t know what, but something. May be the setting sun ?
Sindhura 