By the 1940s, communist ideology infiltrates the ancient hilly kingdom of Tripura, influences the autochthonous population to disdain the institution of kingship, and instigates the populace to work towards establishing a kingless, exploitation-free world.
When a political tsunami devours their king, however, the tribespeople suddenly find themselves helpless and vulnerable before an overwhelming tide of refugees from the newly created country of Pakistan.
Kingless, leaderless and utterly disorganised, Tripuris now had no one to turn to for keeping up their morale except the communist party, as their political supremacy, economic interests, even the land beneath their feet slips through their fingers.
What follows is an atmosphere of intense ethnic animosity.
Amidst the chaos, a Pakistani plane crashes into Longtharai, a steep hill in Tripura, and the primordial tribespeople living in the woods of the hill find, besides other things, a huge cache of gold bars strewn about the crash site.
Crafty plains people and refugees invent stupendous ways to defraud the tribesmen of the gold in their possession. A fairly refined refugee woman employed to trap a gold-rich hillman is swept off her feet by the hillman's wild passion and elopes with the very man she was supposed to ensnare....
Karunamay Sinha is a small-time writer and columnist who witnessed the rise and fall of communism in Tripura and survived nearly four decades of communist rule in the state. His creative pieces and short stories found their way into publications in India, the UK. and the U.S.A. For five years, he contributed weekly columns to the 'Sentinel', an English-language daily based in Guwahati. India.
'A Counternarrative Novel', his debut full-length novel, blurs the line between fiction and folk history, as it's a raw expression of his lived experiences.
By late morning on 17 May 1947, a bulletin from the royal palace of the snugly remote tribal kingdom of Tripura struck the kingdom's small capital town dumb with terror, surprise and stupefaction.
Maharaja Bir Bikram Manikya, the announcement stated, was no more.
A sombre, ancient-looking town crier, mounted on an elephant, made his rounds beating a drum and proclaiming the sad news.
The stunned townsmen looked at the howling crier in blank disbelief. King dead? How is it even possible?
Small knots of people gathered together at street corners and talked excitedly.
Just three hours ago, he was bidding farewell to Minister Brajendra Kishore and Kumar Purnendu!!'
'Farewell? Minister Brajendra Kishore and Kumar Purnendu!?
Yeah, his messengers to the Indian leaders- Gandhi, Nehru, Patel. Aren't you aware? They've flown to Delhi this very morning to discuss with the leaders Tripura's integration into the Indian Union. How is it possible that, in less than three hours, the same king fell gravely ill, even died?
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