Its me,stranded between the dreamland and badland on bed A,room no 4 of staff ward of IOC hospital. I work here and am here in this room because the doctor's room aka conference room is (apparently) haunted,some say that the bed B is haunted. I chose to believe them. Even half century after an old man chased away the British,Digboi is still nearer to Greenwich than Guwahati and the sprits chose to stay on.With a host whose grey hairs still praise the 'Good Old Days' and where an Unionjack hangs proudly in the town museum,the spirits,I am sure will forever be happy. A hospital and a town which has everything colonial...babus,manicured gardens,chang bungalow,fakirs and ghosts. Time goes at least 30 years late and you can still enjoy that evening cuppa by fireplace. Even the name isn't quite local. Lore says of Canadian engineers who urged the diggers to DIG BOY DIG BOI...(now you'll say that I am linking too many places).I love this place,it has never forsaken me or anyone I know,as the adopted towns tend to. It certainly takes care of everyone. I would certainly like to return here after my would be adopted homes shun me,when I am no longer able to run as they do,I'll like to return to be dust in a place whose dust I grew in.
2 comments:
Keep it up buddy. you write really well
broken up and confused....but y? u write really gud. just visited ur profile through Sanjib Devnath. at this moment i want to ask u...will u marry me???
warmly
sarmistha barman
Barman.sarmistha@gmail.com
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