TISS Guwahati- Centre for Sociology and Social Anthropology is delighted to present Eroteme Volume 3. Happy Reading!
More in this magazine
- SEPTEMBER 5, 2026 (LATE EDITION)V O L U M E 3
- EROTEME2 Message From The Centre Chair
- EROTEME3 CENTRE REPORT2025-2026
- EROTEMEFaculty Highlights 4
- EROTEME5 From First Steps to Farewells: The SSA Family
- EROTEMEStudent Spotlight Academic Achievements:
- EROTEMECentre Initiatives/Activities FRIDAY DISCUSSIONS
- EROTEME8 Field Visits and Reports
- EROTEMEField Visits and Reports FIELD VISIT TO KALAKSHETRA
- EROTEME10 ‘On Sociology, Teaching, and a Changing World’
- EROTEME11 In Conversation with Prof. Sanjay Barbora (contd.)
- EROTEME12 In Conversation with Prof. Sanjay Barbora (contd.)
- EROTEME13 In Conversation with Prof. Sanjay Barbora (contd.)
- EROTEME14 In Conversation with Prof. Sanjay Barbora (contd.)
- EROTEMESTUDENT CORNER 15
- EROTEMEWritten By: Antarlina Bhattacharjee Poetry Collection
- EROTEMEMargins (continued)
- EROTEME18 Photo by Ana Jovanovski on Unsplash
- EROTEME19 ck by the flowers, but weirdly critical of the rest of the wild foliage in their conservative views of a garden. Nevertheless, it was thriving amongst the rows of concrete. Lying on the moist soil with my hands under my head, I was almost content with my garden, almost because I was only wishing, stubbornly like a child my age would, for that one corner to be housed with the summer dream of a mango tree; after all, I shared history with such a tree.
- EROTEME20 devtas and asuras where there were only…things, or no-things. Though there was some sense in locating impurities caused by a bathroom near our kitchen or mandir But my parents acknowledged him immediately by estimating the cost of redoing much of our home. It would resolve our circumstances. And as long as I got to hear prospects of a room to myself, I was happy.
- EROTEME21 The Story of Migration in ‘Dinwa Ginat Mori’
- EROTEME22 Illusion
- EROTEME23 Ra ta ta ta ta ta ta
- MEET THE TEAMEROTEME VOLUME 3 Editorial Team
Text of this page
EROTEME
Written By: Antarlina Bhattacharjee
Poetry Collection
Fermented Fish
We all are fermented fish Fermenting over years, Through Surma and Kushiyara With smell so pungent That they want to keep away From what we carry
We are long dead Our houses washed away, In floods and famines Yet our bones & blood carry the river and mud That once held us
We are fermented fish Not stagnant Always flowing across borders Negotiating with Feni Adrift in its waters, never meeting a shore Not knowing where we belong We un-belong
Yet shores claim us Our identities are brined in salts From the sweat of longing Our rootlessness preserved In jars of history And our belonging Forever fermenting
Margins
Draw a margin on the paper Said the teacher Hence, I kept drawing margins On every paper Only to learn My home is a margin too
Drawing Margins are important Margins are not Margins are ignored & forgotten But there must be a margin on every page So there is a margin And my homeland is a margin
Margin is forgotten as My homeland is We are the numbers on the margins Counted yet discarded There but not seen Fondly called marginals
(continued on next page)