www.assamtribune.com GUWAHATI AUGUST 22, 2010

MY SPACE

Miracles do happen Not a relation anymoreFICTION

The advisor - IIALL THINGS CONSIDERED

The elderly owner of the guest house in theUpper Assam tea town of Dibrugarh wasworried. It was near midnight and his youngguests were not in yet. A search party setout, a frantic search began. They were fi-

nally located at the only restaurant open, watchingthe Greece vs Nigeria soccer World Cup group match,engrossed in conversation with the master chef onthe local cuisine and thoroughly enjoying the experi-ence, oblivious of the scare and confusion they hadcreated. “You nearly gave us a heart attack”, said onefrom the search party. The deserted roads sans streetlights, coupled with the silence outside, made themrealise the gravity of the situation, touched at onceby the concern.

It was not all fun and frolic however. While mostyoung people enjoy a summer break – coming hometo unwind from colleges and universities, this lot wasdifferent. Walking through mud and slush, wadingacross streams and paddy fields full of leeches andmosquitoes, they visited and explored flood ravagedvillages, schools, interacting with villagers in remoteBrahmaputra river islands, the saporis. Far away fromthe comforts of their homes and families, in an en-tirely unfamiliar terrain, playing volleyball in the sandysaporis, befriending villagers, relishing the local cui-sine and catching up with the occasional World Cupsoccer match had been their only means of relaxa-tion.

Taarika Shridhar, Julia Evans and Alon Slutzkyare undergraduates (under 20) at Tufts University,Boston. A little older (at 25) Brian Orland, is pursu-ing his post-graduation in international studies atJohns Hopkins University, Washington DC.

Taarika, an NRI, grew up in Muscat. The tattoo inher arm displays her philosophy – Ubuntu, a classicalAfrican concept, calling for brotherhood of men.“Followed by Desmond Tutu”, she tells me prompt-ly, acquired while on a visit to South Africa, twoyears ago, as a mere 16-year-old to perform commu-nity service. Julia, the budding litterateur- poet, be-longs to the southern American State of Arkansas.Coming into Boston, to study at Tufts, was a big

challenge for this small town girl. She finds strikingsimilarities between the simple village folk of Assamwith people from her State. Alon, an aspiring medi-co, has his roots in Israel, from where his familymoved 30 years ago to New York City and are nowbased at New Jersey. He attended a Jewish highschool, applied to Tufts in 2009, and has finishedhis first year under graduation.

The classmates attended a year long intensivecourse “Education for public enquiry and interna-tional citizenship” (EPIIC), run by the Institute forGlobal Leadership (IGL) at Tufts. The highlight ofthe course is a four-day international symposiumwhere discussions are held on different topics withpanel discussions and interactions. The topic focusedon this year was: “South Asia: conflict, culture, com-plexity and change”.

The entire course was an eye opener. The youngminds were ignited, speaking to a wide spectrum ofacademicians related to South Asia at the symposi-um. The brilliant presentation by Sherman Teich-man, Director of the IGL on South East Asia con-flict, convinced them that studying international rela-tions without understanding this crucial region wouldbe incomplete learning. Adds Julia,“I was enthralledby the complexities of SE Asia, conflict of language,of culture, lifestyle, which was both shocking andstunning”. A brief introduction to NE India was ear-lier provided to them by Prof Ananya Bajpayee fromthe University of Massachusetts. She focused on Ma-nipur and the resentment of the people against theArmed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) in theState.

The turning point came when they happened tomeet eminent journalist, author and expert on theNE India, Sanjoy Hazarika, who was invited to speakat the symposium. Tufts University has awarded theDr Jean Mayer Award for Global Citizenship for2010 to Sanjoy Hazarika for his advocacy of issuesin India’s North East to a national and internationalaudience and in recognition of his lifelong contribu-tions to improving the lives of the poor and margin-alised in South Asia. They spoke to him. He motivat-

ed them to come to North East India, to his homestate Assam, where he has been dealing with mar-ginalised river island communities through the inno-vative Boat Clinic health initiative and helped guidetheir project. They read Hazarika’s Strangers of theMist, which gave them a good introduction to In-dia’s North East, the challenges and problems plagu-ing the region and made up their minds. Completewith back packs, cameras and MP3 players, theylanded in Assam in June 2010, for an internshipprogramme.

Alon was to research on the boat clinics and thegirls would conduct a study on the indigenous Mus-lim community of Assam, besides attending healthcamps. The prospect of visiting Assam and the boatclinics was exciting for Alon, who had wanted to seehealth service in a rural setting and this was the per-fect opportunity.

“Every survival kit should include a sense of hu-mour” would best sum up Brian Orland’s attitude tolife. Brian is from Princeton, near New Jersey, grad-uating from Davidson College, North Carolina. Hisready wit, sense of humour and near fluent Hindibrightens up conversations and helps him makefriends aplenty. His father, a funeral director, oftenhad a young Brian helping him in work for that extrapocket money -ordering coffins, arranging for pa-perwork and funerals, learning, in the process, to“find humour in grim situations.” What eventuallypulled him to India was reading the Vedas and Upan-ishads, a part of his course work. In early 2004, hewas in India for the first time, coming six times in all.His stints in India have included voluntary work at aleprosy hospital in rural Tamil Nadu as an under-graduate, interning at the Institute of Peace andConflict Studies (IPCS), New Delhi after graduat-ing, studying India – Sri Lanka relations, attending aHindi school at Mussourie, to deepen relationshipsand make friends in this “language of the heart”.

Brian is in love with the Brahmaputra. His interestin the river developed during a research internshipwith Strategic Foresight Group in Mumbai (they un-dertook a South Asia water security initiative by fo-

cusing on the Brahmaputra). His Assamese friend atIPCS had briefed him on the natural beauty of Assamand NE India, and the challenges faced by the region.Assam gave him the perfect opportunity to conduct aresearch project related to the Brahmaputra- the im-pact of floods on the economic development of theState. Brian heard about the Centre for North EastStudies and Policy Research (C-NES) from commonfriends and contacted Sanjoy Hazarika, the ManagingTrustee of the organisation, who offered the organisa-tion’s help in conducting the study.

From his flight to Dibrugarh, he saw the Brah-maputra for the first time and thought it was anocean, so wide was the expanse. On arriving, thefirst thing he did was to walk down to the river tocatch the sunset. Next morning, he travelled to Dhe-maji, perched on the top deck of a ferry and joinedthe Dhemaji boat clinic, “SB Shanaz” and the healthteam conducting a health camp. He observed thecamp – a mother with three children carrying medi-cines returning home from the camp walkingthrough the marshes, a sick young man on a bicycle,friends pushing it along, mothers carrying infants ontheir back for immunisation, images he would carryback with him. He loved the spirit of the health team,their camaraderie and set off with community work-ers Santosh and Dharani, visiting villages, with mudup to the knees, conducting informal interviewsabout how people deal with floods. All seemed tohave some plan – they stored food, most have boatsand build second levels in their houses when floodscome in. Children enjoy it, he found out, not havingto attend school.

Since then, he has visited flood prone areas. Jonai,Sadiya, Dhakuakhana, Dhemaji, Lakhimpur, Jorhat,Majuli and Dibrugarh are places at his fingertips, sofamiliar have they become during the course of hisstudy, preferring these nondescript towns to “ur-ban” Guwahati. He laments about people having gottoo used to floods, with not much of a learning proc-ess happening for either the community or the gov-ernment. How one practiced agriculture, growingdifferent crops and crop timings, efficient grain stor-age are some of the workable solutions to deal withfloods, feels Brian, with a proper scientific study ofthe river, which cannot be controlled otherwise.

Boarding “SB Swaminathan”, the Tinsukia boatclinic, Julia, Taarika and Alon recall their trip, sailingto Laika sapori, a four hour journey from Tinsukia,sitting on the deck, admiring the picturesque lushgreen scenery. The health team members, foreverjovial, indulged in some leg pulling about their “van-ishing act” in Dibrugarh. Children from the sapori,waving their tiny hands, came running towards theboat clinic, welcoming the members. They watchedhow efficiently the members set up the camp, fight-ing all odds-tents pitched, tables and chairs for thedoctors put, medicines arranged and people flock-ing to the doctors, with gleeful children followingtheir parents.

They spent nights in the boat, relishing the foodserved by the boat crew and playing volleyball withthe health team after the camps were over, bare feetin the sandy sapori. They explored villages, endingup once at a Gaon burah’s hut. They watched hisdeft fingers make bamboo fish traps, even as theyplayed a local board game akin to checkers, “cowsand land” with the villagers. At Jorhat, they visitedthe ancient Shiva temple at Negheriting, accompa-nied by Muslim friends, and were impressed by thespirit of tolerance.

Alon realises that convincing people who are to-tally ignorant about healthcare, immunisation, steri-lisation, etc, is not easy, but the health teams havemanaged to do so. Doctors have to ensure that peo-ple do not stop antibiotics halfway, when they feelslightly better. He fears however about “Medicalisa-tion” setting in, with people getting addicted todrugs , seeing the rush for medicines at the campsand people taking offence when told by doctors oth-erwise.

Brian and Alon particularly liked their visit toMajuli, visiting the 16th century Vaishnavite monas-teries and interacting with the monks, who were ascurious about their lives as they were about theirs.The monks lamented about how the island is gettingeroded year after year.

“Explore as much” was Julia’s spirit. She lovedthe local food, spicy chicken curry, ferns, local vege-tables and mangoes, not getting to taste howeverthe Bhoot jolokia, the world’s hottest chilli, keepingit for her next visit. Brian particularly loved the Mish-ing food, more so the traditional pork, charmed bytheir hospitality, visiting Mishing huts raised on stiltsto keep them safe above the flood water, which isnever too far away. The local beer, apong, hit himonce and the first time he had the humble betel nut,the tamul, he had a smile on for fifteen minute, hejests. They were all charmed by this beautiful State,by the hospitality of the people, though they had nota minute to themselves, being often flocked by villag-ers, as most had not come across light skinned Cau-casians. “But for the bumpy roads, everything aboutAssam is good”, sums up Brian.

These young people, whom I got to meet official-ly, soon became near family members during theirstay at Guwahati, bonding with my sons, the older ofthe two nearly their age group. They would join theboys in their music and guitar sessions. The onlytime I thought Julia was homesick was on hearing afamiliar number by the Allman Brothers. The bandcomes from Little Rock, Arkansas, her home state.We would look forward to their visits, to enjoy thesoccer matches, close friends joining in, sharing mealswith lively conversation, opening up our vistas andminds. Taarika has given us an open invitation towatch the next World Cup, sharing her apartment atBrazil, where she hopes she will find a job by then.We take up the offer. Till 2014 then…

bhaswatigoswami@ yahoo.co.in

Bhaswati K Goswami writes about a group ofyoung American university students who visitedthe North East as part of a unique internshipprogramme.

Farawayfriends

Sweet nothings

Bengal is known for its delectable sweets. Now it is goingglobal in taste and marketing, in keeping with the times,

finds Baishali Mukherjee.

Reshmi Singh, a doctor, was attending a marriage party ofher colleague. It was an elaborate affair consisting of deli-cacies from all over India. Being a foodie, she was enjoy-ing every bit of her gastronomical experience. “But what came as a surprise was the dessert: traditional Bengali

sweet Malpoa served with brandy sauce! Though I knew aboutBengali sweets gaining international flavour lately- but brandy sauce!Simply out of the world,” she enthuses.

This kind of happy surprise is becoming common these days atopulent parties. With increasing overseas travel by Indians, food-along with many other things – are acquiring an international aura.Bengal sweets are not lagging behind.

From the archaic to the ultra modern, from the rich to the plebs-and from the veggies to the non-veg, sweets- typical Bengali sweets– have successfully wooed them all. That includes celebrities, Bolly-wood stars to international sportspersons visiting Kolkata. Few canwithstand the temptation of savouring a hot rosogolla or a nalengurer sandesh (with a jaggery made from date palm). This item hitsthe menu during winter when this jaggery makes its appearance.

Rosogolla is believed to have been first made by Nabin ChandraDas, father of Krishna Chandra Das (the original owner of thefamous sweet joint KC Das) in 1868, though some say that therosogolla actually originated in Orissa and is as old as the RathaYatra in Puri. But sandesh was in vogue even before that. Thoughit is hard to determine exactly when the term sandesh came toindicate a sweet made of chhana (sweetened cottage cheese), ratherthan kheer (thickened milk), it is reasonable to assume that the termbecame quite common by the later half of the 19th century.

Sanjay Budhia, managing director, Patton Group, is a self con-fessed sweet lover. Though he has tasted some of the new innova-tive sweets like the black current sandesh and liked it too, he con-fesses that “I prefer to stick to the traditional stuff when it comes tosweets.”

Indrani Mukherjee, a young entrepreneur who runs a boutique,loves sweets in any form. “I have tasted the strawberry and papayaflavoured sandesh and loved it. But the mere mention of BhimNag’s (a famous sweetmeat shop in Bowbazar area) Abar khabosandesh or the Jawl bhora sandesh or Surya modak of Chandanna-gar, makes my mouth water. Still, I feel that the experimentationsare good, especially the recent innovation of low-calorie ‘diabeticsandesh’.”

However, for the renowned writer Mani Shanker Mukherjee of

Chowringhee fame, experimentation with Bengali sweets is a no-no. He believes that there are certain things in this world like theclassical music, where there isn’t any scope for experimentation,Bengali sweets should stand firm against the tide of interference.“Traditional Bengali sweets”, Shankar says, “are so rich and satisfy-ing in taste that they don’t need to be changed in any way.”

Nevertheless, Bengali sweets are now spreading its wings to woothe new generation with its many variations. Savour these mouth-watering items: Parijat (a mix of pista, nuts and kheer), Moushumi(sandesh stuffed with nuts and coconut), Golapi pera (pure chhanarolled in rose water), Dilkhush (kheer, chhana and pista) and Sour-abh (chhana with sugar globules and pista).

Maestro Satyajit Ray was a frequenter at Nokur, as now is his sonSandip Ray, as well as Tollywood director Rituparno Ghosh, oftenbilled as Ray’s protégé. Singer Manna Dey has a sweet tooth; so do

Says Rabindra Kumar Paul, general secretary of the West BengalSweetmeat Makers’ Association and director of Hindustan Sweets:“Though people of Asian origin are our primary customers, Amer-icans and Europeans are increasingly taking interest in this delica-cy. They are gradually getting aware that where a pastry is full ofempty calories, a sandesh or rosogolla has some nutritional value.However, compared to the Indian customers, who often ask for theinternational flavours, the foreigners and the NRIs prefer the tradi-tional flavours.”

KC Das, arguably the most popular brand of Bengali sweets (par-ticularly for its canned rosogollas), is also gearing up to go global,albeit more aggressively as is clear from its retail spread—five shopsin Kolkata, as many as nine in Bangalore and one shop in Mysore.What was a shanty shop at a corner of Baghbazar in North Kolkataway back in 1866, now boasts of many innovative sweets.

Hemen Das, one of the proprietors of KC Das, is excited abouttheir Bangalore outlet. “We are having 1.5 times more sale therethan in Kolkata. Most of our customers there are non-Bengalis,” hesays. The popularity of Bengali sweets among the non-Bengalis canalso be made out from the fact that Haldiram’s, which mainly caterto the non-Bengali customers, are now coming up with sweets likerosogolla, giving steep competition to the traditional outlets.

So, would the fusion sweets mark the end of the good ol’ mishti?A vehement no comes from Amor Bhattacharya, an NRI living inDallas: “Traditional Bengali sweets are inimitable and have provedtheir worth. They are part of history now. Let them come up withitems like carrot rosogolla, soya rosogolla, tulsi rosogolla, but noth-ing can take the place of a plain hot rosogolla”.

The next course? Sweet makers are now taking steps to inte-grate traditional and modern methods of production. KC Das iscarrying on research at its southern unit in Bangalore to improvethe flavour of its prime product, the rosogolla.

Aiding these efforts is Jadavpur University, where scientists aretrying to evolve standardised procedures to be followed by thesweet makers. “Since health and fitness have become importantnowadays, Kalyani University, Indian Institute of Chemical Biologyand IIT-Kharagpur are coming up with new ideas to help us devel-op new sweets that are healthy,” says Paul.

Ranging from traditional to international, Bengal’s repertoire ofsweets is getting more and more colourful and exotic, thus makingits birth place the dessert capital of India.

Trans World Features (TWF)

actors Vidya Balan, Abhishek Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai, whotry out the Bengali goodies when in Kolkata. “Bengali sweets arenow travelling beyond Bengal. This recent gourmet trend is aimedat keeping sweets of Bengal contemporary and relevant to youngerpeople,” says Prashanta Nundy of Nokur. Therefore, to tempt thenew palate, the 165-year-old Nokur is adding new flavours – or-ange, pineapple, mango, lichi, black currant and kiwi – to its sand-esh. Nokur already ‘exports’ its sweets to various parts of the coun-try and abroad, from its base in North Kolkata. The enterprisingconfectioners are honing the desi spread with some internationallypreferred flavours like black current, kiwi and strawberry. So, youhave alphonso dahi from Balaram; black currant sandesh/kiwisandesh/strawberry rabri from Nokur; strawberry rosogolla fromGupta’s; tulsi doi and tulsi sandesh from Hindustan Sweets andsoya roll, rose-cream peshwari, orange dahi from KC Das.