From Mising Hearths to Premium Bottles: How Assam’s Ancient Apong Became Ti:Po
Japan has sake. Korea has makgeolli. Assam now has Ti:Po. The traditional rice wine of the Mising community, long known as Po:Ro Apong or sai mod, has been carefully transformed into a premium bottled drink that aims to carry an indigenous Northeast Indian beverage onto wider shelves without losing its soul.
For generations, Apong has been more than a drink in Mising homes across Assam. It is woven into daily hospitality, festivals, weddings, ancestor rituals and agricultural celebrations. Guests are welcomed with it. Spirits are offered it. Families mark important occasions with it. Two main forms exist. Nogin Apong is the milder everyday version made by fermenting cooked rice with a herbal starter. Po:Ro Apong, the richer and more laborious variant, incorporates ash from partially burnt paddy husk and straw. That ash gives the drink its distinctive dark colour, mineral depth and the local nickname “sai mod” or ash liquor. Po:Ro Apong is traditionally reserved for special occasions precisely because it demands more time, skill and ingredients.
The herbal starter, called e-pob or apop pitha, is itself a complex creation. Women collect seasonal forest plants, leaves, barks and roots — often more than 60 different botanicals depending on what the forest offers that month. These are dried, powdered and mixed with rice flour to form cakes that recruit native yeasts and microbes. The process is knowledge passed from mother to daughter, refined by sight, scent and experience rather than laboratory measurements.
Turning such a living, variable, home-brewed tradition into a consistent commercial product is notoriously difficult. Indigenous rice beers across Northeast India have long struggled with short shelf life, inconsistency between batches and regulatory hurdles. Ti:Po represents one of the more thoughtful attempts to solve those problems while keeping the original makers at the centre.
The project is driven by three co-founders: Dr Dipankar Kalita, Abhijit Pegu and Assamese singer-composer Joi Barua. Their stated approach was never to industrialise the drink away from its roots. Instead they spent roughly two years tasting Apong from household after household, tracking acidity, sweetness, colour, smokiness and overall balance. They gradually filtered the pool until they identified a core group of skilled women who could deliver the required consistency. These brewmasters now work through two women-led self-help groups — Polo SHG in the Laimekuri-Jonai area and Aaradha (or Ardha) SHG linked to Memberchuk and Silapathar. Roughly twenty women in each group continue to brew using traditional methods in small batches of five to seven kilograms.
The technical innovation sits in the post-fermentation stage. After the women complete the solid-state fermentation — coating semi-cooked rice grains with the herbal starter and finely burnt husk so that each grain becomes its own tiny fermentation chamber — the liquid is drawn and then subjected to patented processes for microbe removal and multi-stage filtration. The goal is longer shelf life (reported at four to five years) and microbiological stability without stripping the drink of its character. Ajoy R. Shaw, a wine professional with formal training and previous experience at Sula Vineyards, oversees the refinement side as chief winemaker.
The finished Ti:Po looks closer to Bourbon whiskey than to the cloudy milky appearance of many traditional rice beers or the crystal clarity of sake. Alcohol content sits at around 14 percent. On the palate it is said to sit nearer to sake than to heavy spirits, with a distinctive double finish of sweetness and smoke, underpinned by fruity and nutty notes that come from the combination of local rice, forest herbs and the burnt-husk component. The founders emphasise that small seasonal variations in the herb mix are treated as natural expression rather than defects to be corrected.
In the Mising language, “Ti:Po” carries the sense of a drink that leaves the heart satisfied or happy. The name itself was suggested by the mother of one of the co-founders. Pricing is firmly in the premium segment at ₹1,800 a bottle. For now the product is available only within Assam, with wider distribution still in the planning stage. The launch in Guwahati in mid-2026 coincided with progressive changes in the Assam Excise (Amendment) Rules that began formally recognising certain heritage alcoholic beverages, creating a clearer regulatory pathway for traditional drinks to enter the formal market while retaining cultural integrity.
Pairing suggestions lean toward Indian flavours. The drink is said to cut through spice, lift aromatics and cleanse the palate, making it suitable with tandoori preparations, kebabs, smoked meats, pepper-heavy dishes and everyday savoury snacks or chakna. The ambition is larger than a single product launch. The founders speak of wanting Assam’s Po:Ro Apong to earn the same kind of recognition that sake has given Japan or that regional spirits have given other cultures — not as a novelty, but as a serious expression of place and craft.
Equally important is the economic and cultural argument. For the women involved, the partnership has brought steady income and a sense of pride that their ancestral skill is being valued beyond the village. Statements from members of the self-help groups repeatedly return to the same points: the ability to support families better, the satisfaction of seeing a tradition passed down by their forefathers prepared for a wider audience, and the relief that the knowledge is not simply disappearing under the pressure of modern life and migration.
Challenges remain. Scaling while protecting authenticity is never simple. Solid-state fermentation that relies on human judgement rather than automation is inherently limited in volume. The forest-dependent herb collection is seasonal and cannot be fully standardised. Regulatory systems, distribution networks and consumer education outside the Northeast will take time. Yet the Ti:Po experiment is notable precisely because it tries to hold those tensions rather than ignore them. Science is used as a tool for preservation and reach, not as a replacement for the brewmasters’ expertise. Ownership of the core craft stays with the Mising women. The commercial brand is positioned as a bridge rather than a takeover.
In a country where many indigenous fermented beverages remain confined to informal or purely local circuits, Ti:Po offers a working model of how tradition and modern food science can meet. Whether it succeeds in establishing Assam’s rice wine on the national and international stage will depend on consistency, storytelling, regulatory support and the continued willingness of the original makers to remain at the heart of the process. For now, a drink that once lived only in Mising hearths has taken its first carefully measured steps into bottles — still carrying the smoke of burnt husk, the complexity of forest herbs, and the quiet satisfaction its name promises.
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