The next morning, as I set out for my daily routine of exercise and walking—something I try and do wherever I am, I bumped into the DC. ‘Ah, Mr Hazarika, how did you enjoy the evening music?’ he asked. ‘They were from your Asham.’ I winced a little at the pronunciation of my home state and muttered something about how fascinating it was to run into similar cultures in a neighbouring country. Of course, the singer had sung only Rabindra Sangeet, and some Bhatiali or songs of the boatmen, which are popular in northern Bengal and southern Assam.

Then, he insisted, that we continue our walk together and he took me on a tour of the new office buildings. Parts of it were still being built; it was a Friday and so everything was shut. By the time the tour was over, it was well past nine and I had to hurry to get to Keramat Bhai’s village. He must have wondered why I turned up so late every time!

It was close to noon when I landed at Bepari Para and was told that Keramat Bhai had gone home. A couple of his young neighbours took me to the place, past the masjid outside which we had waited the previous day, and then to a part of the village which was ‘new’. It comprised of those who had been displaced by floods during the past decade and had moved to Bepari Para. There was some dispute about whether they could stay on these lands without proper allotment from the local government. The issue appeared to be one that would take some time to resolve, with the village and the local government officials being divided on it, right down the middle. The land was a gift from the river, from the surges that dumped large sand heaps on the bank. The river does not discriminate among those it displaces. A small gate and a low bamboo fence ringed his place. A few tall areca nut trees and coconut palms offered some shade. Keramat Bhai’s home was a simple one. It comprised of three rooms including a kitchen. But as he welcomed us, his wife appeared a little worried. Apparently, soon after my researcher’s last visit, a plain-clothes policeman also had come by to check things out. This was clearly bothering her and she said so to Keramat Bhai. He brushed her aside with a burst of irritation. ‘I am not saying anything that is against the government, or against the country,’ he snapped. ‘What are you worried about? I don’t care about such things. I am telling the story and it is better that the saheb knows the facts instead of hearing all sorts of wrong stories.’ This did not completely satisfy her, but she stayed indoors after that exchange.