The burnt smell of jaggery over coconut savoury,
The hearth sending forth the aroma of pithas,
The sweet sour odour of masor tenga.
Jetuka dyed fair wrists of gabhorus
Dancing to the beats of dhuls and pepas.
The frail crisp sound of muga mekhelas swirling
Each time they bring home guests.
The sight of kopous in tamul gos.
Of brighter days and lesser gloom
The onset of Assamese new year.
Of feasts and blessings and endless laughter
Welcome home, it's bihu in my part of the world .
Isn't it strange how love binds people who are polar opposites! I have always believed love to be a faith which grows deeper each day as it is based on trust and the ability to hold on just like the waves hold on to the sea. The story is about two love birds who got caught in the web of love. He resembles the morning sunshine, shy yet bold enough to fight past the night's gloom. A deafening silence engulfing his soul. She is a tempest who gave his silence a shattering jolt. And just when the word impossible could have defined the bond they likely could have shared, the word split itself into " I am possible!" and a possibly, "I am possible" love story took birth. What interests me is the way they stand together, I have seen them fight, seen them suffer but that suffering has it's beauty of it's own where one cries and the other feels the pain (Okay, that was a cliche!) I was always attracted towards stories which had pain in the sense that it mad...
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