Editor,
Over a decade ago, that’s in 2013, following the Meghalaya State Assembly elections results, l had written a heartbroken letter in these columns under the caption ‘Loss for Meghalaya’ (ST March 15,2013) bemoaning the unfortunate defeat of our ìncumbent Chief Minister as an NPP candidate to late Clement Marak of Congress party from Selsella constituency of West Garo Hills district, by more than 2000 votes. In the years from 2008 to 2013, l had the privilege to attend the Assembly sessions from time to time as a government official, in such legislative sessions, l was accordingly made wiser by the contesting debates of our learned representatives. However, what thrilled me the most from my near- drowsy state of mind to a fresh ambience was the flawless speeches of Conrad K Sangma! I reiterated that Meghalaya Assembly had lost an irreplaceable representative and without such an accomplished orator the august house had lost a rare personality!
In a parallel situation of the ongoing political scenario, l feel an inexplicable deja-vu overwhelming me while comparing the uncanny co-incidence of that 2013 episode of Sangma’s loss to the present removal of Paul Lyngdoh from the cabinet. I, for one, didn’t hear that amongst the UDP party there was an agreement post ministerial swearing-in ceremony in 2023 that there shall be a ministerial berth sharing after two and half years or thereabouts, unlike in the BJP and HSPDP. Even Lyngdoh himself had asserted the same. Nonetheless, it is really a heartwarming news that when media and official sources maintained that Lyngdoh has immensely benefited the Stare’s exchequer as a Minister of Tourism, he himself minced no words to announce that from the last tourism festivals, Meghalaya has garnered benefits of over a 100% in terms of revenue. And this is by no means a stellar accomplishment.
Further, seeing his calibre, Conrad Sangma the Chief Minister had shouldered upon him the task of being the government spokesperson in crucial interactions with different media and other assorted organizations. As a Tourism Minister, he was more often than not, officially permitted to make itineraries to different countries famed for their unique tourist- landscapes so that the same can be replicated in our State; perhaps, his visit to Sikkim must have instilled in him to remove those deserving hawkers at Khyndai lad by conveniently shifting them to designated places. This attempt has unerringly demonstrated an achievement of sorts. Some of my friends have concluded that what Lyngdoh has done in removing an army of hard-core hawkers is similar to what Hercules had done to cleanse the nauseating Augean stables. But Bah Paul must remember the timeless adage: ‘There is always a bright light at the end of a pitch dark tunnel!’
Yours etc.,
Jerome K Diengdoh,
Shillong-2
When music becomes identity
Editor,
The untimely demise of Zubeen Garg has left Assam, and indeed the entire Northeast, in collective mourning. To outsiders, the outpouring of grief might appear unusual. But for Assam and the wider Northeast, music is not entertainment—it is lifeblood. Zubeen was not just a singer or composer; he was a cultural institution, a bridge between generations, a symbol of regional pride. His concerts drew audiences that could rival political rallies, and his songs were sung with the same fervour as hymns. The rest of India often struggles to grasp this phenomenon: how can a musician command the kind of devotion usually reserved for cinema superstars or political leaders? But in the Northeast, music is woven into the very fabric of life. From lullabies sung in villages, to community festivals where every gathering has a guitar or dhol, to urban youth who see music as their first language of expression—this land breathes melody. The extraordinary stardom of artists like Zubeen is proof that music here is not pastime but identity, not performance but passion. Zubeen Garg’s career itself was a reflection of this truth. He sang in multiple languages, cut across genres, and embodied the diversity of Assam and the Northeast.
As the rest of India watches this collective grief unfold, it must pause to understand what it reveals: the Northeast is not merely a region of scenic landscapes and cultural curiosities, but of profound artistic sensibility. Music is the heartbeat of its people, and the devotion to Zubeen Garg is testament to that spirit. In mourning him, Assam and the Northeast remind us that art can shape identity, that a song can be as powerful as a speech, and that sometimes, the greatest leaders carry a microphone, not a manifesto.
Yours etc.,
Shekhar Singh,
Via email
A Life in Echoes
Editor,
Zubeen Garg was more than a voice. He was a bridge between tradition and modernity, between Assam and the wide world—a composer, singer, performer, storyteller. Born from the soil of Meghalaya, he breathed Assam and North East – his roots were deep; yet his wings reached far beyond every border that music ever tried to draw.
He gave us songs that healed and stirred—melodies that became memories, lyrics that felt like home. From Assamese folk songs to Bengali modern songs and Bollywood hits like “Ya Ali,” his artistry spoke in many tongues but always with one heart.
Yours etc.,
Shibashish Rudra,
Gurgaon
Celebrating Bookaroo Shillong: A Gift for Our Children’s Future
Editor,
In today’s world, reading is slowly losing ground among children. Mobile phones, television, and above all, the constant pull of Instagram, Reels, Facebook, TikTok, and other social media platforms have replaced the simple joy of holding a book. Against this backdrop, the article “Children, Books and the Joy of Reading,” by Aafaque Hussain, published in The Shillong Times (September 21, 2025), came as a breath of fresh air. It showed how the Bookaroo Shillong 2025 festival beautifully brought children back to the world of stories and imagination.
Bookaroo was not just an event—it was a reminder of what we are losing and what we can still save. To see children listening with rapt attention to storytellers, laughing over picture books, and interacting with writers and illustrators proved one thing clearly: the love for stories is still alive in them, waiting to be nurtured.
But festivals alone are not enough. I do feel schools can play a major role by introducing daily newspaper reading in the classroom. A short session on headlines, guided discussions, and simple news analysis by teachers would help children not only improve their reading skills but also broaden their awareness of the world. This practice could balance the hours children spend scrolling through social media with something more meaningful and lasting.
Bookaroo has shown us that children are ready to read if we give them the chance. If schools, parents, and communities support such initiatives alongside everyday habits, we can revive the culture of reading even in the age of TikTok and Reels.
The joy of reading is more than a pastime—it is a way of shaping curious minds, empathetic hearts, and responsible citizens. Festivals like Bookaroo, combined with daily efforts in homes and schools, can ensure that our children’s future is not just digital but also deeply human.
Yours etc.,
Jairaj Chhetry,
Via email
