When the hills cry

By Ranjita Biswas

Monsoon time. The sky pours, the earth looks fresh and distressed at the same time as flood waters submerge the landscape. I remember a time like this a couple of years ago. We were travelling to Guwahati from upper Assam. It had been raining heavily the previous day but now the sky was blue and a cool breeze was blowing. We were about to reach Jorabat. The name connotes a twin or joint- road. It is from this junction that one drives upwards to Meghalaya, the abode in the clouds, or continues towards the capital city of Assam, and vice versa.