Sense and Souls

It was not any ordinary day, as I think of it now, nor an ordinary night. Potharor Kobi (the "Poet of the Field" as he is known in the Assamese literature) Ram Gogoi was chatting to a much younger me under a starry sky on a quiet summer night. We were sitting in our courtyard after dinner to enjoy a usual power-cut summer night. That was not the first time he visited my house. But that visit was more special to him than to me or my parents. While chatting with me and asking for my studies, he brought me closer to whisper, "You know I'm very happy today. I met my teacher after ages. My life is blessed now", he grinned wider squinting at my maternal grandfather sitting next to him engrossed in his own thoughts. I could see the twinkle in the poet's eyes when he grinned. My grandfather was so lost in his thoughts, I doubt he ever overheard the poet's words. But grandfather called me and said, "You are a blessed child to see learned souls frequenting yo...