Executive Editor:

Pramathesh Borkotoky

Editor:

Myra B

Other Members:

Mani Padma(Creative

Supervisor) , Kavita Saharia

(Strategy Supervisor),

Manimugdha Sharma

(Strategy Supervisor), Noyon

Jyoti Parasara (Movie Desk

Editor) and Anupam

Bhattacharya (Graphics

Designer).

Published by:

Pramathesh Borkotoky,

Hashan Hazarika and Rakib

Ahmed for

Fried Eye

c/o Pramathesh Borkotoky

Kenduguri,

Jorhat-785010

Note by the Publishers:

Views expressed in the

magazine are personal views

expressed by the authors.

Fried Eye is not liable for it.

Contact:

contact@friedeye.com

13 COVER STORY

Bhaona: An Experience

Pramathesh Borkotoky shares the experience

of traditional folk theatre, Bhaona, through

his pictures.

1 In ‘Scotland of the East’

Explore Shillong in a bike ride with Ajatashatru

23 Sorry Mom!

A Noir 55 by Mani Padma

16 On the murder of a classic

Rhiddhis Chakravorty shares his emotions on

the remake of the classic Mile Sur Mera

Tumhara.

10 Poetry

Aien and Pratibha shares some intense

sentimental moments through their poetry.

12 Fashion Fads

Sabrina Iqbal warns for those who follow

fashion blindly.

21 Chef’s Pick: Axomimatters

The Fried Chef focuses on Axomimatters,

an organization formed by a group young

people who are determined a to shape a

better Assam.

8 The Media is free to record our lives: Amitabh Bachchan

The Star of the of the millennium speaks about his relationship with the media in

an interview with Noyon Jyoti Parasara.

11 The Selfish Giant

Sandeep Sarkar illustrates the

classic fairy tale by Oliver

Wilde through his drawings.

REGULAR PLATTER

Wise Bachelor 6

Miss Cellany 5

Good News 15

Editorial

Dear Readers,

Welcome back to yet another issue of Fried

Eye. February brings to all of us a new

season, a new dimension. In keeping with the mood of the season, meet AxomiMatters, an

organization which has taken on itself the onus of creating a new educated and informed Assam.

The sleepy sun has finally consented to occasionally rear its head amidst the foggy skies and the

time seems just right for a visit to the Scotland of the East. Keeping in tune with the mood of the

season, Ajatashatru takes us on a bike ride through Shillong, the capital city of the abode of the

clouds, Meghalaya. While your spirits of adventure are still up, take a stroll into the heart of

Kenduguri, Assam to experience an enthralling Bhauna with Pramathesh in Through the Lens.

As the season lazily changes colours, it is also time for gradually making space in the wardrobe

for a sunnier season ahead; which of course means it‘s time to check out the latest trends ―in‖

and ―out‖. However, obsessive adherence to style mantras can be hazardous and in her article,

Fried Guest Sabrina warns one and all of following fashion blindly. What perhaps would be more

engaging in this season of transition, is to glance inwards and try and clear the cobwebs

gathering in the wardrobe of the heart. The Children‘s Section of this issue features young

Sandeep‘s attempt at illustrating Oscar Wilde‘s The Selfish Giant- a story that focuses on just

such a spring-cleaning.

But cleaning can get murky too. Find out how in the regular section of 55 Fiction as Mani dabbles

with the genre of crime noir. Let Noyon‗s exclusive with Bollywood legend Amitabh Bachchan

bring to you a new insight into the Star of the Millenium‘s life . And last but not the least, may

the Wise Bachelor and Miss Cellany continue to regale you with their antidotes and anecdotes on

the many faces of society in change.

With warm regards,

Myra B

Editor

(on behalf of the Fried Eye team)

In ‘Scotland of the East’ -Ajatashatru

There are only a few things over which Neelam and I agree without fighting. After our Agartala

trip, I had the impression that she would not question my judgement in matters of travel at least.

I was wrong! When I first proposed Shillong as our next destination, she summarily rejected it.

Her reason: Shillong is a ―clichéd‖ tourist spot that everyone seems to visit.

―Naya kya hai?‖ she asked.

―Tum nayi ho,‖ was my answer.

―Weak logic. Give me a zabardast reason for buying your point.‖

―We can make it a motorcycle trip if we go to Shillong.‖

Neelam was quiet for a moment. Probably she tried to imagine how exciting it would be to go on

a biking trip.

―Mummy ji ko puch kar batati hoon. ‖ My mother has to intervene all the time in our fights. Every

time Neelam is about to lose a battle, she invokes my mother‘s intervention. And much to my

dismay, my mommy always takes her bahu‘s side.

―Why do you have to bring in my mother in every situation?‖

―Listen, I‘m a well-mannered Bharatiya naari. I respect my elders. A girl should always take her

in-laws as her own parents. And to obey our parents…‖

―Cut the crap,‖ I interrupted. ―Drama bandh karo. Go and ask your mummy ji if it is so

important.‖

My mother apparently told her that it would be too risky to go on a biking trip to Shillong. ―The

hills are treacherous,‖ she told Neelam.

―You know, Mummy ji says it‘s too risky. But I think it will be fun. Chalo na chalte hai,‖ Neelam

said with a wicked glimmer in her eyes. She always likes to do things that others don‘t approve

of or find risqué. All her ‗Bharatiya naari‘ logic had vanished in a moment. I sometimes wonder if

I have married a reincarnation of Fearless Nadia.

We set out on a fine Monday morning on a hired Royal Enfield Bullet. Actually, it

was looted, not hired, from an old friend, but anything for Neelam. She

should know the Northeast. She is married to the

Northeast. I‘m from the Northeast. And being

my wife, she has every right to know what my roots are

like.

All the way, she kept on chirping like a bird and

distracting me with loud expressions like ―arre woh

dekho baadal hamare neeche‖, ―arre teri, woh bandar

lapka‖ and so on. She has a thing for hills…nature to be precise.

―Yaar, this is the best road trip I‘ve ever had. It feels as if I‘m acting in a desi version of

Motorcycle Diaries,‖ Neelam was just too happy.

―Yeah, certainly. And I feel like Che Guevara. You are the horny Alberto Granado,‖ I quipped.

―What rubbish! Why do you always have nasty things and roles for me? Koi acchi baat bhi kar

sakte ho na.‖

―Na biwi, tu to superstar hai. Chal fir, I‘m Rishi Kapoor and you are Dimple Kapadia. This is the

shooting of Pyar Mein Twist.‖

―Chee! I hate Dimple! Koi aur, please!‖

1

―Yeah right, it was a wrong name to use. You are Pimple Kapadia!‖ I laughed out loud even as

she kept on punching my back and pinching my tummy.

Shillong is a geographical as well as cultural legacy of the British Raj. The township was

established by the English for several reasons: the two primary reasons being its strategic

location between the Surama Valley and the Brahmaputra Valley, and the cooler climes similar to

the English air.

Shillong also finds mention in several literary works: the most

notable ones being Nirad C. Chaudhary‘s The Autobiography of

an Unknown Indian, and Gurudeb Rabindranath Tagore‘s

Shesher Kobita.

We reached Umiam Lake where we decided to stop for a

while. The scenery was marvellous. Even though I have

been to the lake many a times before, this time, there

was an added charm—I had come with my wife. The

water baby that she is, Neelam had an instant desire to swim in

the lake. I encouraged her this time. I told her that if she swims, I will soon make a film and cast

her as the heroine. The name of the movie would be Gayi Bhains Paani Mein.

Needless to say, I ended up with several bruises for that mistimed joke.

We had lunch at the Blue Vada restaurant at the Orchid Lake Resort in Umiam. Prior booking is

required to dine at this place as it is always in demand. But it offers a breathtaking view of the

place so it is a must visit. The food was exquisite.

After lunch, we headed straight towards Shillong, which was just 15 km away. We checked in at

the Tripura Castle in Cleve Colony, which is a heritage hotel. It was previously owned by the

Maharaja of Tripura.

We kept all our sightseeing for the next day and instead chose to hop the markets and the city

centres at Police Bazar and Laitumkhrah in the evening. It was also because Neelam felt a little

giddy.

―Yaar, I think I need to lie down for a while. I feel pukish.‖

―Pukish? Koi good news to nahin hai na?‖ This time, my joke was really mistimed and she just

glowered at me. The cold weather coupled with the motorbike ride was showing it effect on the

poor girl. I also realised I had said enough for the day; anything more would really put my

marriage in jeopardy. An afternoon nap could both do us good.

It was almost 5.30 pm when Neelam woke me up.

―Chalo chalo market chalte hai.‖

―Arre you were sick na?‖

―I‘m ok now. Now stop being a quizmaster and

get ready. My God, we are late!‖ she almost

shrieked. For a while I had forgotten that there could

be no market in this country that Neelam Soni

would not loot. My fault, anyway.

We went to a Tibetan market named Glory‘s Plaza at

Police Bazaar. There, my lady bought an array of

warmers and a few souvenir items for everyone back in

Guwahati and in Delhi. I tried to remind her that we are on a biking trip and too

much luggage would make the return journey punishing, but to no avail.

2

Back in the castle, we had a nice dinner and retired for the night early. We planned to visit the

Shillong Peak early next morning.

Shillong is surrounded by hills. Three of them are revered in Khasi tradition: Lum Sohpetbneng,

Lum Diengiei and Lum Shillong. The Shillong Peak is every tourist‘s dream

destination. The entire city below is visible from the top.

The scene reminded me of several Hollywood movies. It

was simply indescribable. Neelam was so excited that she

kept on clicking photos. And we both bored another

couple to death by making them take our snaps in

different ‗pati-patni‘ poses.

A trip to the nearby Elephant Falls was no different.

The view was captivating. For a long time, we stood

motionless. I had never come to this spot before so it was

new for me as well. After a while, however, we got back to our senses

and started capturing it on camera.

The next spot was the golf course or the Gleneagles of the East. It is the world‘s wettest golf

course and one of the few natural golf courses in Asia.

―Arre wow, it‘s such a huge place. So green. Koi Hollywood movie jaisi

lagti hai, nahin?‖ Neelam said.

―It surely is. They say Shillong is the ‗Scotland of the East‘.

Samajh mein aayi baat?‖

We returned to the Tripura Castle to freshen up. We just had

another day in hand to complete the trip, and I still had to

meet my friend Major Tomojit. I called him up and he

invited us to be his guest at the 58 Gorkha Training Centre the

next day. But we still had the entire evening in front of us. So,

we decided to hang out in the city.

We wandered aimlessly at Laitumkhrah and other places. I

showed her the St. Anthony‘s and St. Edmund‘s colleges, the

new IIM campus, as well as the Raj Bhavan and the state

library. We then went to a multi-cuisine restaurant and had

authentic local food for the first time. We have had momos before but not

anything typical to the city. We therefore had a special rice called jastem, which is cooked with

onion, ginger and turmeric. We also ordered a vegetable curry despite the waiter insisting that

we try their special non-veg. items. Neelam being a vegetarian, we couldn‘t.

The next morning, our last day in Shillong, we went to the 58 Gorkha Training Centre to see my

friend, Major Tomojit. He showed us the place and even showed us parts of the ongoing training

at the centre. We saw the cadets learning difficult lessons in warfare, but Neelam wanted to

know if there was anything worth seeing. So, we were taken to a regimental museum where I

personally had a good time.

But Neelam wasn‘t impressed with the vintage weaponry on display. She hates ‗boys‘ toys‘, and

she says that quite often. She, however, impressed my friend a lot, so much so that he offered to

send a car to Guwahati with our luggage.

The next morning, before we started our return journey, we decided to check out a coffee shop

named MOT in Laitumkhrah. We had Irish coffee there, which made for an awesome treat. They

3

were also playing some live music, which made the experience all the more pleasant. Music

comes naturally to the people of Shillong, for it is the self-proclaimed rock capital of India.

Several international bands including Scorpions, Sepultura and MLTR have performed in Shillong.

Also, this is probably the only city that has been celebrating music legend Bob Dylan‘s birthday

every year since 1972, courtesy Lou Majaw, India‘s own Dylan. Shillong also has several bands

that are doing well at the national and international levels: the most notable among them being

Soulmate.

On our way back, I had a feeling that we will have to come back to Shillong again someday. We

had only skimmed through the city and didn‘t quite see too many places. Neelam was also

unusually quiet. I couldn‘t gauge her thoughts. Maybe she was sad at the thought of leaving the

place. Or maybe she was only pretending all this while of liking the trip. I didn‘t know. There are

times when you don‘t understand your spouse. It was such a moment.

―You know, I think we should come back again. I think there is still much to be seen here,‖ she

finally broke her silence.

―As you say, madam. Ghulam aapki khidmat mein hai.‖

―No, sacchi mein. And I promise agli baar I won‘t shop too much. I would rather see the places. I

feel this is home, too.‖

I didn‘t say anything but only smiled to myself. Actually, when you love someone, you tend to

understand the other person‘s feelings without even knowing that you do. The sun felt warm.

And so was the hug I got from behind. We just rode on. Our next trip was already taking shape

in my mind.

4

Black Magic Woman -Miss Cellany

With a song on my lips and spring in my steps I set out for my workplace this morning.

Everything looked fresh and clean. I was

waiting at a traffic intersection for the

chartered bus when I witnessed an

incident which… I am not sure if i have

an adjective to describe it yet. So let me

just narrate it instead.

Two guys were trying to jump the red-light when a girl in a Getz suddenly raced in from the

adjacent green side cutting short their herogiri. The guys,narrowly missed being hit, let out an

instantaneous Heyy! The girl slowed down as if on reflex; with a mischievous smile took a hand

off the steering wheel, made an unmistakable FO sign with her fingers and sped away leaving

the guys and an Auntiji standing near me absolutely shocked. The guys on the bike recovered

and smiling sheepishly drove away. I had doubled up giggling hysterically. Wow! That was some

attitude. Some girl she was. A Gutsy girl with a wicked sense of humour. Go woman!

Of course, Auntiji did not lose a moment to turn that disapproving glare towards me now that the

Getz whisked by. I immediately tried to control myself. I am sure Auntiji must have been silently

cursing us crazy next-gen women who upset her orthodox senses of dos and don‘ts at probably

every traffic signal she halts at these days. I mean, just think of the woman who just crossed by.

The incident must have lasted for just a few seconds but it was enough to check her out. (Yes

guys! I did say check her out.Why? How much time do you need to do so? And at any rate we

women check other women out faster than most specimens of your species do.) Beautiful, sexy,

confidence oozing from every pore. The kohl-rimmed eyes, that dainty nose-ring and the black

turtleneck hinted at just the right concoction of mischief and devil-may-care attitude. BLACK

MAGIC WOMAN. That attire and attitude proudly announced that she wasn‘t one of those who

looked towards qualifying as the sushil bharatiya nari (a fact seconded by the deadly stares of

Auntiji).

Ah well, my bus arrived, and I energetically hopped up to push my way through the already

crowded aisle. My head carried within it that woman who came and wafted by like a breath of

fresh air. Her surprise counter to the wannabe Roadies made my day and I am sure even those

guys who were at the receiving end enjoyed the experience. (I hope they learnt something from

it too, I won‘t bet too much on it though.)

5

Q. Meri girlfriend mujhe maarti hai. I love her, but when she hits, she hits really hard.

I don‟t retaliate because I don‟t hit women. Please help me tell her not to test my

endurance power. Pitahuwa Premi, Shillong.

Ans: Dear Lord! Who is this woman? I have a friend who is in a relationship with an amorous

woman. When they make love, she bites and scratches him like a wild cat. The next morning, my

friend has to face a lot of embarrassment in office with all those visible red marks. But your

condition is worse than his, for should you walk into your office with a swollen nose or a black

eye, you would be a disgrace to ‗man‘kind!

Come one, this is woman‘s emancipation at its height! Pal, you need to realise that you are with

an exceptionally talented woman. Who knows, she might be the next best thing Northeast has

produced after boxer Mary Kom. But you need to help her channelise her energy; there‘s no

point being her punching bag. Buy her a pair of boxing gloves on her next birthday and someday

you might feel proud to be the significant other of a champion pugilist.

And don‘t even think about playing the role of Evander Hollyfield against this Mike Tyson of a

woman, for Tyson had bitten off Hollyfield‘s ear in a bout that went awry.

As for helping you, let me first figure out what makes her so aggressive. I think she is the lost

Catwoman from Batman movies, who had disappeared, never to be seen again. And guess what?

Even Michael Keaton‘s career had a downswing after that and he vanished from the silver screen:

a fact that made all of us bear with disappointing Batmen like Val Kilmer, George Clooney and

Christian Bale. If you tell him that you have found Catwoman, maybe he will once again find his

lost film career.

Or maybe she is the feminine alter ego of Jimmy Porter from Look Back in Anger. In that case,

you have no other way but to play the passive Alison. But you could try playing the ‗bear and

squirrel‘ game to smoothen the relationship.

If nothing works, try what Amba had done in the Mahabharata, and maybe you will be born as

Shikhandi in your next life. Then every time your girl would try to hit her husband, you could

come in the way and frustrate her. Kyunki ek aurat doosre aurat ka hi dard samajh sakti hai,

mardon ka nahin. Think about it and good luck!

6

Q. My friend has a weird problem. He likes a girl whom he met in my wedding. They

look good together, seriously, but my friend is not sure if he wants to marry her. He is

also an „eligible bachelor‟ who is being pursued by an army of potential

fathers/mothers-in-law. But he is not accepting any of the proposals and is instead

running after impossible things. Till now, he has fallen for someone much older to

him; another, a married lady with a child; and a confused teacher already in a

relationship with someone else. They all seem to like him and he likes all of them, but

seeing him living his life this way, I‟m losing my patience. I think I don‟t understand

him anymore. Please help, WB. Nayi dulhan, pareshan saheli, dost mera ek

paheli, New Delhi.

Ans: Bheegi hui cigarette kabhi jalegi nahin, aur yeh tay hai ki tere dost ki kismet kabhi sudhregi

nahin. I think your friend is suffering from ‗mere andar Kanhaiyya‘ syndrome. It is not exactly a

disease but a state of mind that makes a man feel as if he is the Kalyug avatar of Lord Krishna

and that he can attract an army of women, each better than the other. Men with this ‗problem‘

find it difficult to commit in relationships; and those who are arranged-marriage material, they

find it harder to focus on a single person, for there is this undying hope that a better woman

would soon come by.

If you look at the life of Lord Krishna, you would find that his love affair with Radha, who was a

married lady, is considered to be one of the purest forms of love. Rukmini, on the other hand,

was betrothed to another man.

I would, therefore, say that there are no solutions as such to your friend‘s ‗problems‘. These are

not problems at all; it‘s just that in today‘s complicated world, we have lost our sensitivity and

cannot imagine love outside its clichéd definitions and boundaries. Your friend, I think, is a very

sensitive man. Try to understand this rasiya and stop being a Yashoda maiyya to your buddy.

Q. WB, I have been trying to transfer my telephone connection from Jorhat to

Guwahati, but the authorities are taking a long time to get it done. Every time I go to

the telecom office, the clerk tells me that he is very busy and that my application is

“in process”. What should I do now? Sarkari naukar se dukhi aam aadmi, Guwahati

Ans: Before getting a telephone connection, you should try to get connected with the realities of

life. Getting a telephone connection is not as easy as singing telephone dhun mein hasne waali to

your girlfriend. If you want your telephone to be transferred, you should also be willing to

transfer some of your hard earned money to the clerk. I have met many people like you who

want to get their work done fast, but are not willing to invest. It gets very frustrating for

government servants at times. When will you people start thinking about them? They,sarkari

naukars, are a generation of under-paid people, who also have over-expecting families to tend

to. India is a welfare state, and we all should think about the welfare of one another. If you help

them, they will help you. So, the next time you go to the telephone office, give the clerk a

hundred-rupee note along with your artificial smile and your work will be done in minutes.

7

The media is free to record our lives: Amitabh Bachchan - Noyon Jyoti Parasara

The actor, who was voted the ‗Star of the Millennium‘ talks about his relationship with the media

and how it has gone from being bad to good at times in his 40-year old career.

The excitement to know what is happening in someone else‘s life is almost an integral part of

most human minds. The desire gets stronger when the life that we want to know about is that of

a celebrity. And it gets ever stronger when the celebrity in question is Amitabh Bachchan. Dozens

of media personnel follow every minute of this superstar‘s life to bring to the reader more news

on him – the ones that he has not already pasted on his blog.

However, in process of bringing to people what they would like to read or watch, the media has

often been accused of trespassing into the lives of celebs way beyond approved limits. But that

never seems to anger this star by a bit. ―We have to accept it, as people want to know more

about public figures. So the media is free to record and say anything that they want to. I as a

public figure need to be cautious of what I do in public, and make sure that it is not against the

public and society. My own conduct must be such that no one can point anything at it. If I

behave wrong and the media writes about it then I deserve it,‖ he says coolly.

Of course there have been times when he and the news media have not been in the most cordial

of terms. One of the earliest examples of this was when the media had banned him completely

during the emergency. There were speculations that the restrictions on the media were made

after the actor suggested the same to the Prime Minister and President. For some years

thereafter there were no words exchanged, no greeting… not even credits were given where it

was due. Things changed when Bachchan was admitted in hospital after a near fatal injury at the

sets of Coolie.

There are recent examples too. The most recent being when the media rebuked the star and his

family for not being a good host and letting them inside to cover the wedding of Abhishek

Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai. Big B, as he is lovingly referred to as, has his explanation.

―Weddings are private matters. We have had two wedding in our house – my daughter‘s and my

son‘s. And we wanted to keep it low key and personal. It is a very auspicious occasion in a family

and a very tender moment for a girl who is getting married. It is also an equally poignant

8

moment for the family who is receiving the girl into their family,‖ he says. ―Many people think

this is a moment of celebration and it of course is. But we feel it is not an easy task when a

woman decides to leave her home and start living with another family, which she calls hers from

then on. It is the most valued decision a woman takes in her entire life. No other decision is as

sensitive and powerful as that. And I feel that this moment should be left to the family members

to be alone. And that‘s what we tried doing,‖ he explains.

He adds that despite such views they understood the media could not be kept away completely.

―Knowing the fact that the people involved in this process were all public figures, there was

bound to be interest among the public, which transcends into the media. So we made

arrangements for the media outside both our homes as we made platforms for them and also

kept sending them sweets and refreshments for 24 hours. But beyond that we didn‘t want them

as the privacy would have been left,‖ he says. ―But there were disappointments. Certain sections

of the media tried sensationalizing things even when the ceremony was on. I was even told by

some senior media people that since we didn‘t call them in there were options for them!‖ he

recalls.

In fact the marriage is still remembered because of some unknown girl coming up, in true filmy

fashion, to claim that Abhishek was her husband. But Bachchan indicates that it was nothing but

an attempt to sabotage the marriage – an attempt made by someone who the star is unwilling to

disclose. ―If this was not on record I would have told you what the facts behind that were. Let

me tell you it was all staged, deliberately!‖ he tells us. ―And when someone goes to such extents

to sensationalize things we are obviously not going to be comfortable,‖ he adds, appealing to the

media to let him enjoy some personal moments with his family, while he shares everything else

with his fans. That surely would be a tough task to abide by, but maybe Amitabh Bachchan

hopes that his latest film Rann drives some thoughts into the media as well as the junta!

9

ESCAPE -Aien

Alice in wonderland wandered

down into an upside-down world.

What to do to escape from reality?

Reflections in the mirror lie,

we are not what we seem to be.

The world is too much with us

and we are too much with

the world.

Sorrowful is she who knows

all grief stems from knowing.

Acid Lsd Morphia give me

forgetfulness.

To remember is to die

to forget is to live.

A centipede balls up on touch;

a touch-me-not withers on you.

We could all own a protective shell

lulling us to oblivion,

un-bothered un-fettered un-loved un-hurt.

The biggest vanity is to learn

The toughest to unlearn.

10

In Memory’s Lap -Pratibha

Ideas storm my tiny brain

you won‘t rest, will you?

another nudge to the cells

eye should not miss the scene

a twitch in the heightened sense

no whisper even must miss the ear.

I know this scene,

I know this voice…

It beckons me now,

the time is to rise…

Images flash in my heart

you won‘t fade soon, will you?

another memory passes through

mind should not miss the details

few muscles move in the face soon

as the smiley tears mark their trail.

I know this memory

I know these tears

It reminds me again

to shed my fears…

Fabrics caress my finger tips

you won‘t stay still, will you?

the texture gets crushed by hands

nose should not miss the smell

hairs fall on the nostalgic arms

as they steady the love filled chest.

I know these clothes

I know this aroma

It tells me of ways

to comfort any trauma…

11

Fashion Fads!

―Fashion‖… a vague word with

tremendous significance for the stylish

folk world over.

The trend of following fashion fads, I believe, cannot be traced back accurately in time. But it

cannot be denied that fashion does rule the young and not so young alike. Everyone wants to, or

at least secretly desires to, look pretty and in tune with the ―in ―styles. But the dilemma is what

exactly is ―in‖ and what is ―out‖. More complex is the question as to who decides what is ―in‖ and

what is not. However again, we the common folk or the lay men are not concerned with who

decides and why but we are mainly curious to know what styles are the styles of the day.

Well that apart, fashion, be it about clothes, the latest accessories or the newest hairdo usually

spreads like wild fire as every second person in town adorns that ―in look‖. People irrespective of

the fact whether the particular style suits them or not are seen to be in the latest (and also very

frequently weird) fads. There‘s nothing wrong with being fashionable and stylish. But I believe

that style is always individual. It is not only about garnishing oneself with the newest and hottest

attires and accessories.

Just make a simple speculation. Fashion fads are mostly proliferated by the idiot box or by

models. In both cases the people demonstrating the latest styles are professionally groomed and

accessorized. Moreover, almost all of them are professional models or actors. We, the people

who pick up these trends, however are ordinary normal people with average looks and not so

proportionate bodies. Professional grooming and accessorizing are far off dreams. Thus, is it

really practicable or feasible for us to totally imitate the styles of such groomed people? I believe

not.

Firstly, we are the ―aam admi‖ the mango people. Besides every single person has a personality

and individuality of his own and it is not necessary that the latest styles have to agree with or

suit him or her. Well again, that is only one side of the story. The second important thing that I

would like to stress is that style is not just physical appearance and looks. It is more of a matter

of attitude and the way a person carries himself. That is it is a matter of confidence and

mannerisms.

We really need to think and rethink if there is an actual need to follow and run after the newest

trends. Beauty is subjective; and imitating trends does not make one beautiful. Beauty will reflect

only when it comes from within a person. That is when a person is beautiful from within. A

beautiful soul radiates even from people who may not be categorized as pretty in the

conventional sense of the term. Hence if you think that you are pretty from within stop running

after these fickle styles. These so called fashion fads are actually just temporary amusement

techniques and commercial ventures which are just aimed at exploiting the masses ruled by

style, which again fade away over a period of time. But if you really want to look stylish and chic

just wear the right attitude and trust me you will definitely be considered ―in‖.

SABRINA IQBAL SIRCAR

GUWAHATI, ASSAM

The writer is a freelance writer and editor, based in Guwahati, Assam. She can be reached at

Iqbal.sabrina@gmail.com

12

Bhaona: An experience

The Vaishnavite Bhauna tradition of Assam has evolved and adapted since its

beginnings during the fifteenth century. One of the most written upon folk forms

of Assamese culture today, the Bhaona (from the Sanskrit Bhavana meaning

―display of/production‖) risks being categorised as a

homogeneous blanket form, However the differences

in the presentation and performance of Bhaonas is

subtle and hard to grasp by a layman

unless he sees the

different types in full

action in first

person. In one of my

rambles among the nooks and

corners of Kenduguri ,Jorhat,

I got a chance to enjoy a Bhaona in progress

at Charingiya Suk, No. 2 Brahmin Gaon. The Bhaona was

occasioned by the reinstitution of the Manikut in the Naamghar

and was based on the Bhagavata story of Bhakta Prahlad. The

bar-sabah (congregation) was already hooked to the

riveting tales of the sutradhar(narrator) at the time of our

arrival. It took a while adjusting our eyes to the smoke and

incense filled ambiance even though the age old gacha

(large earthen chandeliers of multiple earthen lamps)

and the ariya (torches) were overpowered by new age

electric lights. The

dialogues were riveting

and the boy-actors (especially the

ones in female roles or charitas) were

both delicate and entertaining in their act.

Needless to say, I was soon caught in the magic

of the presentation and the innovative techniques used to

produce the special effects left me very impressed. I managed

to capture some moments of the humor-riddled narrative

performed by the natuwas and bhaoriyas (performers), hope

you have an enriching experience browsing through the same.

13

14

Good News

Guwahati boys „light‟ up Kolkata Science Fair with low-cost Candles

Guwahati: Promising youngsters, Mrinmoy Kumar Sarma and Amritjyoti Das, both class nine

students of Maharishi Vidya Mandir Senior Secondary School SilpuKhuri, Guwahati display their

scientific genius at the Eastern India Science fair 2010 held at Birla Industrial and Technological

Museum ,Kolkata from 12 to 16 January 2010. Their innovative low cost candles manufactured

from Nahar seeds which attracted the attention of one and all had earlier won the State Level

Science Fair 2009 held at Regional Science Centre, Khanapara ,December ,2009.

The Aryabhatta Search for Young Scientists get Underway at District Level

Udalguri: District level science competitions organized in association with Aryabhatta Science

Centres of Kalaigaon, Khoirabari, Bhergaon, Udalguri, Rowta and Mazbat blocks got underway at

Ramswarup Agarwalla Memorial High School. The competitions were held in different criteria

including model making, extempore speech and poster drawing. The winning participants have

earned themselves an entry into the State Level Aryabhatta Science Competition to be held at

Assam Engineering Institute, Guwahati from 3 to 7 February,2010 under the supervision of

ASTEC, Assam. - FENS

PIB to launch 4-day information campaign

Imphal: The Public Information Bureau (PIB) is all set to hold a four-day public information

campaign on flagship programmes of the Central Governmentat Panthoibi Lampak, Heingang,

Imphal East District from 1st to 4th February, 2010. The campaign would cover programmes like

the SSA, Mid-Day Meal, RTI, NHRM, NREGS, ICDS and Bharat Nirman packages (rural telephony,

rural electrification, rural water supply, total sanitation campaign and rural road). In addition, the

event will also host a free medical camp, immunization, free eye care camp and exhibition stalls.

The campaign is being organized by PIB, Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, Government

of India, Imphal in collaboration with Directorate of Field Publicity (DFP), Directorate of

Advertising and Visual Publicity (DAVP), Doordarshan Kendra (DDK), Imphal, All India Radio,

Imphal (A.I.R.), Song and Drama Division, Imphal. – FENS

Itanagar to host Special Handloom Expo

Dimapur: The Nagaland Handloom & Handicrafts Development Corporation Ltd. Dimapur, is set

to organize the Special Handloom Expo at Mobin-Solung Ground, Itanagar, Arunachal Pradesh

from February 16, 2010. Sponsored by the Office of the Development Commissioner (Handloom),

Ministry of Textiles, Government of India, New Delhi, this expo will provide its participants with

the stalls free of cost besides a travelling allowance. The Expo is scheduled to be put up for a

fortnight. - FENS

If you have any good news that you want to be published in Fried Eye, send us the news article

to editor@friedeye.com with ‗Good News‘ as Subject.

15

On the murder of a classic -Rhiddhis Chakravorty

What happens when an original masterpiece is redesigned and repackaged as something that

only faintly reminds you of its past glory? How about a redesigned Taj Mahal with a banquet hall

look? I don‘t know about others but I am one stubborn man who would refuse to accept it. Do

you know the reason for this rant? Well, it is outright frustrating to see Kailash Surendranath

commit such a heinous crime of destroying his earlier masterpiece, ‗Mile Sur Mera Tumhara‘.

Despite its obvious weakness- the typical mainland India bias and colonial neglect towards the

culture and history of Assam and other Northeastern states- the rendition was an aesthetic

delight to every Indian irrespective of his/her age. Those who were born in the late 70‘s and

early 80‘s literally grew up with ‗Mile Sur …‘ telecast on DD to promote national integration before

cable TV invaded Indian living rooms.

And now comes ‗Phir Mile Sur….‘ the brand new version or the degenerate cadaver of the old

classic- mutilated, disfigured and covered with Bollywood trash.

The first fault of the entire recording is that it sounds horrible. You don‘t need a trained ear to

make out a substandard tune from a good one. While in the earlier version we heard great

maestros like Pt Bhimsen Joshi, Balamuralikrishnan and Lata Mangeshkar, the new version has

too many badly sung parts. Yes, there are a few great legends like Ustad Amzad Ali Khan, Ustad

Zakir Hussain and Pt Shiv Kumar Sharma, but they are like the good portions of a rotten apple

that cannot make the fruit eatable. Moreover, it seems the new version contains the maestros

just in order to be politically correct. To sum up in one line -watching ‗Phir Mile Sur…‘ is a

disturbing experience.

The biggest crime Surendranath has committed is that there is annoyingly too much of Bollywood

in it. So much so that even Sachin Tendulkar is totally forgotten. Gopichand and Saina get just a

few seconds and a lot of other true legends of sports, culture and Indian cinema (not Bollywood)

are not at all there. Apart from some popular stars of South India, no major renowned figure

from regional cinema is featured in it. Whereas the likes of Deepika Padukone , Ranvir Kapoor

and Shahid Kapoor, whose credentials as national icons are debatable, have been allotted too

much airtime. Pitiably ‗Phir Mile Sur…‘ fails to integrate the nation if it does not disintegrate. If

16

the older version neglected the Northeast and some other parts of the nation, the new version

has insulted them. A few seconds of Bhupen Hazarika and that is all for Assam and the

Northeast, while some other regions are featured for too long. And all this in a music video that

is projected as a representation of India‘s cultural diversity!

It is crystal clear now that ‗Phir Mile Sur…‘ is produced from the sheer commercial point of view.

Bollywood stars are good commodities while culture and aesthetics are not that marketable. In

the entertainment market, everything that sells is good and everything that does not should be

avoided. National pride is okay only if you can sell it and if someone buys it for a high price. The

producers and sponsors will now repent for not featuring Sachin. Not because he is our pride but

because he is marketable.

This seems to provide answers to some other questions. Why is it that only the Bollywood stars

represent Indian culture in the Olympics, Commonwealth Games and other international sporting

or cultural events? Why is a funny cocktail of Indian and western dance, music and culture is

always presented as Indian Culture? Why is the official Indian entry to the Oscars always a

Bollywood film no matter how unaesthetic and idiotic it is and never a regional film? It‘s because

Bollywood is business; because everything is a commodity in the money-oriented culture that has

taken total control over India today. Nevertheless, Kailash Surendranath and all the big corporate

houses associated with the production of this farce should be given this message loud and clear

by the nation that no corporate house has the right to insult the nation in the name of NATIONAL

INTEGRATION.

Editor‘s note: The writer is a disgruntled and a full blooded Northeasterner who feels emotionally

robbed.

17

The Selfish Giant

-By Oscar Wilde

Every afternoon, as they were

coming from school, the children

used to go and play in the Giant‘s

garden.

It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful

flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into

delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees

and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. ‗How

happy we are here!‘ they cried to each other.

One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed

with him for seven years. After the seven years were over he had said all that he had to say, for

his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived he

saw the children playing in the garden.

‗What are you doing here?‘ he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away.

‗My own garden is my own garden,‘ said the Giant; ‗any one can understand that, and I will allow

nobody to play in it but myself.‘ So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board.

TRESPASSERS

WILL BE

PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.

The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was

very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high

wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.

‗How happy we were there,‘ they said to each other.

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and

little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still

Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no

children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful

flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw

the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it

slipped back into the ground again, and went off to

sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow

and the Frost. ‗Spring has forgotten this garden,‘ they

cried, ‘so we will live here all the year round.‘ The Snow

covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the

Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to

stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden,

and blew the chimney-pots down. ‗This is a delightful spot,‘ he said, ‗we must ask the Hail on a

visit.‘ So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke

18

most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was

dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.

‗I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,‘ said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the

window and looked out at his cold white garden; ‗I hope there will be a change in the weather.‘

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but

to the Giant‘s garden she gave none. ‗He is too selfish,‘ she said. So it

was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and

the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the

trees.

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when

he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet

to his ears that he thought it must be the King‘s

musicians passing by. It was really only a little

linnet singing outside his window, but it was so

long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that

it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the

world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the

North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to

him through the open casement. ‗I believe the Spring has come at last,‘ said the Giant; and he

jumped out of bed and looked out.

What did he see?

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and

they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little

child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered

themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children‘s heads. The

birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the

green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter. It was the

farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could

not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The

poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and

roaring above it. ‗Climb up! Little boy,‘ said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it

could; but the little boy was too tiny.

And the Giant‘s heart melted as he looked out. ‗How selfish I have been!‘ he said; ‗now I know

why the Spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and

then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children‘s playground for ever and

ever.‘ He was really very sorry for what he had done.

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But

when the children saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden

became Winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he

died not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his

hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came

and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant‘s

neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any

longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring. ‗It is your garden now, little

children,‘ said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the

19

people were gong to market at twelve o‘clock they found the Giant playing with the children in

the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

‗But where is your little companion?‘ he said: ‗the boy I put into the tree.‘ The Giant loved him

the best because he had kissed him.

‗We don‘t know,‘ answered the children; ‗he has gone away.‘

‗You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,‘ said the Giant. But the children said

that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very

sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the

little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the

children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him. ‗How I would like to see

him!‘ he used to say.

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play

about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and

watched the children at their games, and admired his

garden. ‗I have many beautiful flowers,‘ he said; ‗but

the children are the most beautiful flowers of

all.‘ One winter morning he looked out of his

window as he was dressing. He did not hate the

Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the

Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked

and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the

farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered

with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and

silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he

had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass,

and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he

said, ‗Who hath dared to wound thee?‘ For on the palms of the child‘s hands were the prints of

two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

‗Who hath dared to wound thee?‘ cried the Giant; ‗tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay

him.‘

‗Nay!‘ answered the child; ‗but these are the wounds of Love.‘

‗Who art thou?‘ said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, ‗You let me play once in your garden, to-day

you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.‘

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all

covered with white blossoms.

Illustrations By:

Sandeep Sarkar,

Class V,

KV NEIST, Jorhat

20

Chef’s Pick: Axomimatters

On January 1, 2010 a new website was released. Prime audience targeted: the youth of Assam.

No, we are not talking of FriedEye here though the date of launch coincides. The website under

discussion is the enigmatically titled http://www.axomimatters.com/. So what is this website all

about? The FriedEye team recently got in touch with Mr. Amarjyoti Saikia, the man behind the

site, to find out just that.

We learnt from Mr. Saikia that the organization AxomiMatters saw its genesis during the close of

2008. It comprises, as Mr. Saikia puts it, ―of people from Assam who have joined hands and

heads to contribute to the developmental activities of Assam. Even though our career interests

have dispersed us across the globe, Assam remains an intrinsic part of our identity and

everything that happens back home, matters to us just as much.‖

The primary mission of AxomiMatters is to contribute to the development of Assam. Currently,

the focus is on helping and guiding the students of Assam through services like career counseling

and student mentoring. The organization channelizes its efforts in gathering and disseminating

up-to-date information regarding new vistas opening up in traditional and emerging fields. ‖ We

have a lot of Subject Matter Experts enrolled with us‖, says Mr. Saikia via email. ―Among them

there are professionals working in prestigious organizations, entrepreneurs successfully managing

their establishments and academicians doing outstanding research at Universities and Institutes

located all over the world. These groups of people come from diverse backgrounds like

engineering and science, design, economics, public relations, medical and multidisciplinary

streams.‖

Commenting on the present Career Counselling situation in Assam, Mr. Saikia states that the

primary cause for the dearth of right kind of information regarding various education career

options is the lack of adequately equipped Subject Matter Experts in the different parts of the

State. AxomiMatters, he hopes, will be an easy to approach medium through which students of

Assam can interact with and seek personal guidance from dedicated, experienced and successful

Subject Matter Experts spread across the globe. The need to make the organization accessible to

the different parts of the State lead to the development of the website which went public on New

Years this year.

The user-friendly website http://www.axomimatters.com/ requires the students seeking guidance

to submit their queries in a customised form along with relevant details of their educational

background. Once submitted, the question gets picked by AxomiMatters‘ Subject Matter Experts

21

and the necessary information is provided to the students via email. In addition, the website

features career related news,articles, examination alerts and information regarding various

institutes of study.

―These‖, says Mr. Saikia,‖ are the activities AxomiMatters is focusing right now.Till now we have

arranged few sessions in some institutes in Guwahati and Nagaon in order to increase

awareness. We are planning to arrange few more sessions in various parts of Assam in coming

days.‖

The website launched on New Year‘s hallmarks the organization‘s progress in its intended mission

and we at FriedEye wish AxomiMatters all success in its journey ahead.

22

Sorry Mom!

Mom had asked me to return soon but it was dark now. She always does. There was a killer on

the prowl. I gulped and walked on. Just in the alley there was a strange policeman waiting. He

beckoned at me smiling crookedly…all happened quickly. Slash! Slightly messy .I Have to dispose

the razor today.

23