I passed my High School Leaving Certificate Examination (Class X Examination) in the year 1973 with a second division from Ramakrishna Mission Highs School, Cherrapunji. Now the challenge was to get admitted into a college. But colleges were not available in Cherrapunji.. My sister was studying in Guwahati and was staying with one of our maternal uncles. Shillong was the only possibility. Dad took me to St Anthony’s College where we contacted Prof A. R. Mukherjee, Head of the Department of English. He sent us to the Principal (Fr Joseph). Not knowing the convention that when the red light was on outside no one was allowed to go inside we requested to be allowed in and promptly we were asked to enter. But the principal told us that unless I got a hostel seat I would not be admitted. So we rushed to the superintendent of Stephen Hall, where we were informed that unless I got admitted to the college I would not get a seat in the hostel. The option left was St Edmund’s College, a college run by Irish, missionary brothers. A distant uncle to mine (my mother’s cousin) Prof Jayanta Lahiri, Department of Mathematics took us to the Principal (Bro R.B. Vieyra) who was taking care of a tree in the afternoon.  He asked me, ‘What do you do in Cherrapunji? Collect water?!!!’ Before I got an opportunity to react I was admitted to the prestigious college which became my home for the next five years. St. Edmund’s was a college with a difference. There were great teachers and even better Principals. I was admitted to Pre-University (Science) and stayed as a Paying Guest in Mawkhar area. Later I moved to a mess (Kusum Cottage) in Jail Road area, where I stayed till December. Early next year I shifted to ‘New Hostel’.

Not happy with my son's performance took him out of St. Mary's School, Cooch Behar towards the end of Class VI admidst a lot of criticism and got him admitted to Bina Mohit Memorial School which which was affiliated to the CBSE and not the ICSE. Thought he would be comfotable there and I could also monitor the teaching-learning process to quite an extent.Doesn't look like a very wrong decision though!

Feeling extremely sad - fellow teacher educators feel teaching the portions of the so called syllabus to help trainees get marks in the theory papers is the most important thing. Tried my best to make them see the importance of the presence of Music, Physical Education and Fine Arts throughout the teacher education course. they don't seem to understand the hidden aspect of the Teacher Education Curriculum!

Seen quite a few changes in my life. My elder sister had been asking me to take her along with me if ever I paid a visit to Cherrapunji. So when the opportunity came I did not let her down. In the year 2014 I took her and my family for trip to Shilling and Cherrapunji. In shillong my attractions where the places where I had studied and stayed. Of course, the members of my family wanted to see places which had tourist attraction. I did satisfy them. In any case anyone including me would have liked to visit those places over and over again. We couldn't pay a visit to the University as it had shifted to a permanent campus ages back. Our department had been housed in the Mayurbhanj Palace. But a Central governemnt office was housed now and we could not enter the place. We did go to my college, St. Edmund's College, the college where I  had graduated from. Things had changed. The 'Assam type' buildings were replaced by RCC buildings, but the architecture looked very attractive. Greenery was still avialable. Took a few photographs. Then we moved towards the hostel 'New Hostel' were I had stayed for a year or so. The name was changed though. Afeter taking a few shots outside I met the hostel superintendent, whom I knew - Dr Rao. He had taught us electronics when I was undergoing a course on Amateur Radio, popularly known as Ham Radio.Taking his permission we entered the hostel. I showed my son, wife and my sister our common room where we used to play table-tennis & carrom. In fact, three of us had been housed there for a few months. When the superintendent came to know of this he was surprised. I then took them to Room no 1, where I had stayed most of my hostel life. Three boys were present. The one occcupying 'my bed' was fast at sleeep. He got up in a confused state. I assured him no harm and asked him to go back to sleep as I tok pictures. Satisfied, we left the college campus to visit other places. Of course, I couldn't visit all other places where I had stayed erlier.  It was a great experience. Experience at the Airforce Museum was really great. As usual I saw a sign displaying 'No Photography' and wen back to the cab to keep my camera. Once inside the ticket booking arena I observed people with cameras and to my surprise I was told I could use my camera in this museum and it was more surprising that inside a military campus we could use cameras. Inside the museum in one place there a sign which said 'Take your photo here'! Overall experience in the museum was definitely great. We left the campus after buying a few memetos.
Next we visitied the Elephant Falls and then left for Cherrapunji where we had been brought up. Knowing Cherrapunji very well and the attitude of the authorities of Ramakrishna Mission I was worried about accomodation. So, I had asked a frined of mine who was a teacher the Ramakrishna Mission Higer Secondary School (It was a High School during our times) to book a Guest House for us. But his reponse was not positive. He, in fact, had asked me to email our request to the authorities, which in most cases was not likely to be heard. So, he gave me a contact number of a person who ran a home stay. But after reaching that place I found it was really far from the campus and it would be nearly impossible for us to move about. There was some accomodation available inside the town too but I wanted to stay inside the school campus. the driver of the cab told us to hurry as the school procession was come and it would be difficult for us to move. In fact, I had forgotten that the Birthday celebrations of Ramakrishna was going on and the most attracitve part of the programme was the procession was going on then. We rushed to the campus only to find the last part of the procession. The procession had lost its pomp and graneur. It was only the shcool students and few devotees participated in it. It used to be a huge proccession of the devotees (mostly from different parts of Assam) earlier. I took a lot of pictures. I was then introduced to the Secretary. Swamiji very joviantly said, 'I knew it had to be some  insider who was clicking so many pictures!' Later to my surprise I found signs 'No Photography' written  all over. This was something new! Swamiji told my friend, 'Why don't you find an accomodation for them in the guest House?' We missed a beat in the heart. Is it going to be the same place where we used to stay some 48 years back? To our joy & surprise it was the same place which had been turened into a Guest House right aftr we shifted to the actual quarters. My sister and me went looking for the places of interest in every corner of the place. The Guest House turned into many Guest Rooms. To our surprise we found the small hole in the CGI sheet wall through which we used to watch movies shown in the auditorium. Normally these were paid screenings to which we were not allowed. I remember when at times some person would recline on the wall shutting us off and how we used to insert an the handle of the flyer (used for pereparing Dal) and force the person on the ohter side to change his position.
Cherrapunji will remain Cherrapunji forever. Here things do not chnage. I rememebr how my dad used to lose his spectacles in buses and how they used to be returned by the staff every time. We hurried to the shcool complex when we heard that the procession ot mark the Birth Annivesary of Sri Ramakrishna was returning to the School compelx. We had a glimpse of the last part of the procession. Then mingling with the crowds we ate khichri and got ready to leave. Once inside the car I aksed my sister to return the bag carrying all my cash and cards. To my surprise she said that she had returned it to me  long back. We were in a state of shock. We rushed to all the places where we had been. First, the fountain where we sat and posed for photographs. It was not there. We went tot the place where had our lunch. Hundreds of people were still eating. I asked a friend of mine (a teacher of that shcool) who was in charge serving food. He offered a resigned look. I proceeded to that place where I took my food. To my surprise the bag was still there in the bench where I had been sitting earlier. some people were having their food. the bag full of money and important documents was there squeezed between two people - safe - indeed very safe. No one had bothered to look at it. At least one more batch had eaten there but as it was not their property no one had bothered to look.

Enjoying my work as an ELT Resource Person of Oxford University Press

I have lost a very good friend today - Jagadindra Bhattacharji of Tura, Meghalaya - popularly known as Shantu or JB. He taught Science and Mathematics in Christian Grils' School. Let his soul rest in peace.

1983 Assam Assembly Elections

I chose to join Assam Rifles Public School. In the meantime elections for the Assam Assembly were declared. I didn’t have anything to do with the elections, I resigned. The Principal, Mr Sulen Basumatary, asked me to hang on for some more time till the elections were over. I was in no hurry actually, so I agreed to stay back for some more time and gave one month’s notice. The people of this area had a horrifying experience of the Central Reserve Police (popularly known as CRP). I will refer to this elsewhere. The Assam Students’ Union had declared that any one submitting his/her nomination would be killed along with their family members. Same would be fate of people performing election duties. Many teachers and some non-teaching members of the staff were appointed as Presiding and Polling Officers. They thought the CRP would come any time and drag them for election duty. Another community (which was in a minority here) was against the elections till the electoral rolls were revised according to their choice. I was in a fix. So I talked to my colleagues who were opposing the polls that I had to accept the assignment as I had already resigned from Tukrajhar Higher Secondary School and about to join a school under the control of the defence forces. They agreed with me. Whereas they would not themselves be a part of the election process, they would not however be a hurdle to my joining the said polls. In fact, that was going to my first poll as an Election Officer. I hadn’t even voted in any election earlier. My name had never appeared in the Voters’ List. In fact, I always thought the booths set up by different political parties were the polling booths. So, excitement inside me was quite high. The Presiding Officers’ Handbooks were distributed quite ahead of time and I had ample opportunity to over the Handbook over and over again. We even managed to attend the training session. Then onwards everyday all my colleagues would run away to the river bank during the day to return only in the evenings. I requested a colleague, Mr Brahma, a next door neighbour not do this. This was really humiliating. If he didn’t want to join the elections he could easily run away on the day when actually the police would arrive. (We had been informed of the date.) He agreed. On the day, when we would depart for the election duty, one teacher from another school came to our staff quarters. I was happy I had some one on my side, besides Mr Brahma was said he was with me. The principal cam in the morning as was happy to find that three of us were willing to go. As the day progressed I suddenly heard a lot of commotion and a lot of sound (sounded like pelting of stones – I had seen communal riots in Meghalaya and heard a lot of them in Assam). I came out of my quarters to find all my colleagues (even those who hadn’t been appointed – the feeling was that any one could be picked up) running across the small wooden bridge, and along went Mr Brahma, the neighbour and the teacher who had arrived in the morning. I was left alone. What had lead to this ‘escape’ was the fact that the police had arrived in the school. I packed my belongings and went to meet the principal. With moist eyes, he could only say, ‘God bless you’. No one was sure whether I would return alive. The police took the list people who were absent. I boarded the bus along with rifle bearing glum faced policemen. The bus stopped in Bengtal (4 kilo metres away) near the Police Station. There one more person boarded. Straightaway he started grumbling – ‘Don’t know what’s going to happen – whether at all I will return alive’. I told him not to crib. He would otherwise spread his fear among all others. Else he was free to get down from the bus. He kept quiet after that. We reached Kokrajhar, the Sub-Divisional HQ, were the distribution of materials would take place. I met the Zonal Officer, a BDO – a nice man, but couldn’t find my First Polling Officer, without whom I was reluctant to receive the polling materials. I was told that the First Polling Officer was normally an experienced person. Slowly, the other polling officers arrived. The One policeman arrived with a lathi (baton). ‘Whose is Bhumka?’ My Polling Station was Bhumka. I said it was mine. He said, ‘I am yours’. It did sound funny but had to pretend that everything was OK. I was looking for more Bengalis around to be ‘safe’, at least I thought so. ‘What’s your name?’ ‘Liaqut Ali.’ ‘Bengali?’ ‘No, I am a Muslim’. ‘Where do you come from?’ ‘Dhubri’. I got what I wanted to know, he was a Bengali. In fact, most of the conversation was in Bengali itself. ‘Fine, where’s your rifle?’ ‘They aren’t issuing rifles.’ ‘You aren’t going without a rifle.’ He grudgingly left to get a rifle. Some one told me, that the police weren’t happy carrying such load. Well he got a rifle, only years later someone told me had he any bullets with him? I really don’t know. At last I was coaxed to collect the polling materials in absence of the First Polling Officer. At last the Zonal Officer announced the arrival of the First Polling Officer. It was a different person though. He said, ‘I liked your name, so I came.’ I knew what he meant but preferred to keep silent. One of the polling officers got some money lying in front of us. We asked who’s it was but couldn’t find out. We used it for food on the polling day. There was no movement that day. We spent the night in the bus. The first Polling Officer sat by side the whole night. The back rest of the seats were fixed. So, we slept sitting straight in the uncomfortable seats. The next morning Mr Ram Hazarika (I think that was the name of the First Polling Officer) returned after taking tea and said, ‘Sir, I think I might be beaten up by the local boys here after I return from poll duty.’ Well, I didn’t have a solution, nor could I offer him security. I told him as much. He returned after yet another sojourn and said, ‘Sir, of all the people gathered here, all are Bengalis, only we two are ‘real’ Assamese.’ He took me to be an Assamese because of my surname. In fact when he had told me that he had come as he liked my name I had presumed he had taken me to be an Assamese. It was time to put things right. I told him, I was a Bengali too. He had a shock of his life and asked to be released immediately. I asked the Zonal Officer for advice. He said, it was up to me. Mr Hazarika offered to stay with us till we departed and told me the names of people who might help us get food and other necessities (well, no one actually helped though). I released him and he did stay with us till we left. I actually felt sorry for him. Ultimately, we started in our journey a little later. We reached the hamlet towards the evening. It was a newly build primary school. Personnel form the Village Defence Party and locals arrived to greet us.