It was a fine morning in Rohmoria. Everything seemed calm and quiet. We were walking along the bank of the river Brahmaputra whilst away in the distance, tiny little boats were slowly growing bigger: they were returning home with their morning catch. It is, one would say, the seamless everyday of any river bank in Assam. But this is Rohmoria.
An area in Dibrugarh district of Assam, Rohmoria struggles for its existence against the scourge of river-borne erosion and flooding. Year after year, like an impassioned lover, the hungry tides of the Brahmaputra embrace large swathes of cultivable land, homes, wetland and jungle. It shrouds the monuments of its misdeeds, as if erasing evidence of its guilt: No one, not even the people of that area could show you any sign of the Brahmaputra's sabotage. A deserted police station however, illustrates the dilemmas facing the people of Rohmoria. Abandoned long ago in anticipation of its destruction, the lone structure makes clear the cynicism of a state which is more concerned with its apparatus than its people.
An eroding dialogue
River-borne erosion in Rohmoria and its surrounds has a long history. Following the earthquake of 1950, significant portions of Assam's river banks have been affected by the Brahmaputra. In 1979 a major portion of the road that connected Tinsukia and Dibrugarh town through the Rohmoria area collapsed into the river, transforming a well-connected provincial hub into a hinterland overnight, and evoking the many anxieties that come with this unwanted designation. Whilst Rohmoria's bachelors lament the possibilities of luring a bride to the area, issues deeper than connectivity and courting prospects are evident. Rohmoria is still a rich place, though opportunities are limited now. With fertile land and abundant water resources, people can live a life of dignity. But suddenly, in one go, they can also lose everything. The anticipation of loss and displaced existence haunts Rohmorians every time the monsoons start pouring in Assam.