Verdict of the soil: Kokrajhar’s streets erupt after BPF’s comeback

Kokrajhar: Kokrajhar woke up on Tuesday to a town still in motion — loud, still crowded and dressed in saffron and green — as celebrations for the Bodoland People’s Front (BPF) rolled into second day. After Monday’s official results confirmed BPF’s return to the crucial 15-seat BTC bloc, the heart of the Bodoland Territorial Region looked less like an administrative headquarters and more like a public square built for joy.


From the market area near the district court to the lanes leading toward the BPF headquarters, supporters streamed into the streets in waves — honking, dancing, and wearing BPF flags alongside those of ally BJP like capes. Dhols drove the rhythm. Women’s ululations cut through the morning air. Over it all rose the chant that kept repeating as trucks and cars threaded past the Police Point area: “BPF zindabad, Bodoland zindabad!”


For many, the win carried the feeling of return — something intimate, almost elemental. “Kokrajhar is where BPF was born, and today it feels like our home has finally come back to us. This victory smells like our own soil,” said Bugadaola Boro, a grassroots party worker. He measured the moment against the past and found it bigger, bolder, more public. “We celebrated quietly in 2020, but this time the streets are full. Children, elders, everyone wants to taste the sweetness of having our own govt again.”


Outside the BPF office, volunteers kept the scene alive — tying fresh garlands to the flagpole, lifting oversized posters of Hagrama Mohilary and the winning candidates that had gone up as soon as results were declared. The celebration wasn’t only about numbers on a tally sheet; it was about recognition, belonging, and the sense that politics here is inseparable from identity.


“I am a daily wage labourer, and I voted for BPF because I believed they would fight for our land, our language, and our dignity. Today that belief has a face,” said Gajendra Daimary, standing amid the crowd. He pointed toward the dancers and the flags and the road that had turned into a stage. “Look at these women dancing in dokhonas in the middle of the road – this is not just a political win, it is a cultural celebration of Bodogaa.”


Across Kokrajhar, the mood carried a message beyond party lines: a demand to be seen as more than a peripheral region. “For years, we were told our region is only a border area; today, Kokrajhar stands as the heart of a Bodoland-centric govt. That is worth celebrating,” said Parag Kumar Brahma, a teacher and BPF supporter. Even in the middle of the noise, he pushed the conversation toward what comes next. “This is not for slogans or for one leader; this is for the future of Kokrajhar’s schools, hospitals, and roads. We are proud that our vote counted,” he added.


Younger supporters spoke of the moment as something they had inherited and finally arrived at. "We grew up hearing about the struggle for our identity, and today feels like the dawn of a new chapter where our voices are finally the loudest in the room," said Ansumwi Boro, a student leader moving with the rallies. Near the counting centre, Mithun Basumatary framed the victory as proof of endurance. "They tried to say the BPF was a thing of the past, but the soil of Kokrajhar has given its verdict; you cannot separate the people from the party that understands their heartbeat."


Through the night and into the morning, groups of young supporters — some in BPF-themed T-shirts saved for this day — danced in circles, filming each other, posting short videos, and turning the win into a digital archive as much as a street spectacle. By Tuesday, Kokrajhar’s celebration had settled into the shape of a community festival: music, movement, pride, and a shared insistence that this result was not merely a change of guard, but a declaration of who the region believes itself to be.


As the town moves forward from the May 4 results day, Kokrajhar is once again asserting its place — not only as Bodoland’s administrative centre, but as its cultural nerve-centre, buoyed by a mandate that supporters say is, above all, a vote for itself.