The opening story, “Songless Birds,” provides an effective entry into the collection. Set at a conference in Delhi discussing the Northeast, it brings together bureaucrats, academics, journalists and others attempting to understand a region described repeatedly as unique and misunderstood. At the centre of the conference is a painting of three birds—an Adjutant Stork, a hornbill and a white pelican—sitting on one branch but looking in different directions.
The image gradually acquires symbolic significance. While the speakers discuss ethnicity, land, borders, identity and violence, the story raises another question: who gets to speak for the Northeast? The young anthropologist Simon challenges the simplified idea that communities in the region are merely prone to conflict. His observations introduce questions of cultural identity, insecurity and the fear of losing heritage.
In “Tonight,” the narrative moves from a conference hall to a remote village, where Dimbeswar Kalita lives through the disappearance of his seventeen-year-old son, Rajen. As rumours connect the boy with an armed outfit, the father becomes trapped between fear, social suspicion and an agonising uncertainty about his child’s fate.
Across the collection, Borkotoki repeatedly turns towards people living on the margins of larger events. His characters carry memories, regrets, anxieties and unanswered questions. The stories are therefore not simply about the Northeast; they are about people negotiating history, identity, family and circumstance.
The author’s note describes the book as growing from memories, reflections and stories accumulated through family, friendships, reading and years of writing for newspapers and journals.
That personal foundation gives Against the Colluding Sky its central quality: these are stories that resist easy conclusions. They remain, deliberately, unfinished—much like the lives they portray. Intense, often funny and sometimes gripping, Against the Colluding Sky is a compelling read.