By Rimansan Ha O Najiar
Northeast India is the hand of Mother Nature;
The crease and fold of her palm is where life exists.
Her fingertip forms the Great Himalayas,
The Brahmaputra flows through the crease of her palm,
The majestic hill tract stretches from her little finger to the wrist,
Her hilly thump stretches horizontally to guard the flat center,
Between the hilly thumb and the hill tract, is where Agar is found.
The miscellaneous ethnicities are blessed by the Gods,
The tales and songs of the land are enchanting,
The scenic landform is nature’s wonderland,
The numerous dialogues make us unique,
The diverse culture enriches our beliefs.
A common tradition is found across all ethnicities,
And it is the use of bamboo to unite the gift of nature.
A Strip of Bamboo binds a wooden stool,
It creates a bond from stick to stick to hold the weight,
It secures a meal pack on a leaf for a ravenous gut,
And it binds to create a rain shield to ease our day.
A variety of baskets are a unit of bamboo strip;
They are of many shapes based on their uses.
Symmetric skill is illustrated in a bamboo mat.
A bamboo under blazing heat cooked our rice,
And bamboo shoots to captivate our taste buds.
A bamboo strengthens the structure of a wistful hut.
It can also be cut to store water and drench our thirst on a long day.
Bow and arrows craft from bamboo revive primal knowledge.
A flute is composed of bamboo to serenade wanderers.
While a skillful hand could carve ornament from an omitted bamboo.
More are to be acknowledged and noted,
But what is important is to preserve its foundation.
Synthetic matter hid away the existence of our art;
It endangers the art of ancestral goodness.
Our self-development expels ancient heritage,
Curiosity and exploitation expose the roots of a giant being.
Soon it will collapse, and our culture will be remembered as text.