Skip to main content

NewLand

Dust and dust is everywhere. But no one looks covered in it. Modern looking men in western outfit hollering "bheiya" in stead of "Tamo", and women with their noses recently made aquiline yelled "bhabi, where is jeeju?" To them "enamah and eteih "are too foreign. Their tones are loud enough for anyone to ignore. I am puffing a mild cigarette in front of a kiosk roofed with rusted corrugated sheets. The old lady shopkeeper is on the phone. She grumbled,"Ebemah, I can't understand a word your Saini man is saying. You have to teach me his language." I know the old lady well, I know the street. But I couldn't say I am familiar with the condition and changed characters. But each time I walk the streets here I see them, but I want to picture my grandparents instead; my grandfather sweeping the areas around, while my grandmother teasing him with all her witty Meiteilon phrases. And that teasing would go on till he had washed his hands and feet , and until he had sat on the thick reed mat puffing his heedakphoo( hookah).

Now the modern-looking people roam the place either in their miniature cars, sticking their heads out every now and then to spit, or on 100cc motorbikes with headlights removed. If you sat with a few trendy mates you would hear them say,"I know that ASE man in i10", and someone more trendier would butt in,"No! No! He has an i20, and you know, he is the brother of that CCC recently provided escort." These people of who-is-who are the pillars of the society. When they fall many will gloat, especially the elite of lingo who will come out to say: This cocio-socio predicament is unlocked for, and what one can expect is another anarcho-tragic.

While the people with VIP power line will whine: There is nothing for us. Good that I have bought two three-roomed flats in Delhi and Bangalore. Those left behind would whine while warming their bones by the braziers," Now they want everything: our lands, our money and even our food. What can we do, what can we do?" But these what-can-we-do people will do everything they can to afford a good and displayable dowry for their daughters.

Meanwhile, in the land of Christ, long ignored and discriminated by the redeemer himself they splutter in their recently acquired language: They are our enemy number one. No more discrimination, and now that The Lord has sent a Bazooka messiah we can liberate ourselves. We will shed blood and offer our flesh to create our long denied Chrissake Land.

For protection I have two shepherds, in place of VIP line I have two solar panels and some Moreh-bought LED bulbs and an inverter, powerful enough to charge my Steve Jobs gadget, in place of lord I have filled up my ceiling-to-floor shelves with some stuff that I want to read, in place of the the lingo I have created something simple in which big things are said. And the land, I inherited this small plot from my grandfather, spacious enough to create another Japan.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

An Outlier In The Wrong World

Delhi was once Chinglen’s ‘cradle of love’. With his student years over and the love that once comforted his stay has come to a tragic end, he is seized by a strong urge to flee the city. Run as far as he can from the memories of love. As a costly escape is beyond means, he returns to Manipur, a place long marred by protracted violence, a failed revolution, an engineered incessant political chaos, and already neck-deep in corruption. Perhaps to lick his wounds and hide with the beguiled sense. That the distance and the rich bizarre should shield him from the very memories sloshing thick inside him. His attempt to keep himself engaged as well as to make a meagre living lands him a shoddy journalist job and the opportunity to pursue a PhD at the state's only university. In the absence of his laidback editor and opportunistic professor, he teaches himself some degree of creative writing and dabbles in academia. As he moves further into the labyrinth, he learns the hard way that trying...

Dream of Beliefs

Seeking quiet corners In the silence of the city By day, by night, Even in the stillness of late hours I carried you. To pursue, to court, And finally, to know If it was mine Or ever would be. I remember Tossing, turning, Muttering to myself, Searching for signs While gathering words. Then, one rainy day, I believed I had it. The dream was mine. Twenty years have passed With the dream, In another city, Where silence and inner peace Slip through my grasp. Penury and ill-fortune Trail me like shadows, Reminding me How fragile, how futile The pursuit can be. Often, I wonder: Have I failed? Is my back now pressed Against the walls Of this city, Of life itself? It is dreadful. It is disheartening. Yet I have nothing But this dream: A flickering flame, A roaring inferno, A monster trapped within. I am no one No titles, no claims, Only belief to shield me, And a longing For a place in the world. After all these years, Oh, dream of mine To possess you Is to know who I am, What I can be. And st...

Revised Edition of Tales of Human Mischief

Tales of Human Mischief   by Nameirakpam Bobo Meitei is a poignant collection of short stories set against the backdrop of Manipur, also known as Kangleipak.   The anthology delves into the lives of ordinary individuals whose experiences are shaped by the region's prolonged civil unrest and armed conflicts.   Through rich prose, Meitei brings to light the often-overlooked narratives of those affected by systemic violence and societal upheaval. ​ The stories encapsulate a range of human emotions and experiences: a mother's lament for her lost child, the silent suffering of a young soul molded by surrounding violence, the humiliation endured by dishonored victims, and the pervasive fear of those yearning for salvation.   These narratives reflect the extremities of terror and human brutality, painting a vivid picture of a society grappling with moral decay and existential despair. ​ Meitei's writing is characterized by its melancholic tone and introspective depth. ...