For all his flaws, Bimal Gurung is still liked by a large section of the people from North Bengal. Especially in remote rural regions where politicians rarely venture, Bimal Gurung is seen as someone who has cared for the people. But will this sentiment prevail across the region? It’s difficult to say. But in tying his fate to TMC and also himself, Bimal has made a bold move, will it help him bounce back or will it backfire?
In a recent incident, the pioneering ex-army settlers in Vijaynagar, Arunachal Pradesh, most of them Gorkhas, have been served eviction notice. The settlers in Vijaynagar are retired army personnel, were sent by the Government of India in the 1960s to occupy the territory so that India can stake its claim over this uninhabited land.
While the Coronavirus pandemic is raging across India, Darjeeling Hills witnesses one of its biggest events endorsed by celebrities like Milind Soman and Kailash Kher.
As TheDC celebrates its 8th anniversary, Bicky Sharma reflects on the idea of TheDC and what it represents.
Today, the idea of Gorkhaland is at the crossroads. The state assembly elections are round the corner and some people feel the idea has been compromised after the ‘old guards’ made a deal with the state government for their return.
The state which had hounded them with multiple legal cases, has now decide to forgive them and assured their safe return. The state against which the movement was launched, has today become the protector of the rebels. The same state which took away even the voting rights of the ‘old brigade’ leaders is now guaranteeing their freedom to participate in the upcoming elections.
Only a being can belong. Where is your being? You talk about Right, Left and Centre? You are a photocopy of a photocopy. Can’t you see, there is no You, there is no Home, there is no Us? Outfoxed, outmaneuvered, overpowered, outplayed, don’t you realize that you have been reduced to a speck of dust? The Right has no use for specks of dust and neither does the Left.
Yesterday night stood to be one of those unfortunate times where we crawl ourselves into the bed with an unspoken amount of grief in the…
I try to lift the old and faded camouflage printed bag but it’s too heavy. Someone has brought iskus from Soureni busty and left the bag next to the door. There is no one else in the house apart from my grandmother, who is still out there trying to put the chickens in the coop. So I take an old shawl, cover the bag, and wait for the CRP raid.
In “Wai Wai” we trust – that’s the state of journalism in our hills.
In “Syria” we outrage – that’s the state of writers, poets, intelligentsia in our hills.
In “Social-media revolution” we believe – that’s the state of activism in our hills.
In “Finding political relevance” we strive for – that’s the state of academia in our hills.
In “Silence” we dwell – that’s the state of rebellion in our hills
We will vocally decry those who we believe are worthy of our self-righteous scorn, but don’t bother us to speak out against the tyrannical state and the current state of affairs.
My aunts waited for the cremation to end and sat and gossiped among themselves. They were talking about some place where women had cremated the dead, an unheard of practice, Keti haru lay garnu parcha abo. Someone also mentioned in hushed voices that in some tea garden, a woman had given birth to a dark-skinnned baby, “nikkhur kalo nani”. There was anxiety in their voices. I didn’t really understand the implication of these conversations.