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They build asylums for us
Derided scornfully for our clowning
Put into our place for our goof-ups.
It is they who decide our disposition
It is they who shape our destiny.
Our laughs are a pollution in noise
Our peals are a discordance in rhythm.
We dare to abuse ourselves for love
They care to soak themselves in self-denial.
Us, we would blissfully die for who we love
Them, they would regretfully live with who they reproach
In ironies, they judge that our folk be insane
In sarcasm, they delude that their ilk be sane.
Huddled, our freedom is what they yank off
Rightfully, they create sanatatoria for us.
Bliss as we are, walls apart
The world is better off without them.
• Collection:
Anger in Ashes
• Originally written on
February 20, 2003
[ First published: November 22, 2008
Last updated: November 22, 2008
]
The girl who thrashed a soldier for trying to molest her. Hai jawan!
The history of the Northeast is the history of romantic insurgencies and pyrrhic wars, devastating blasts and brutal carnages, internecine squabbles and ethnic clashes, political chicanery and myopic governance, and what have you. It is also the history of atrocities. By the agents of the State.
When Naga women were raped on church pulpits by the sacrosanct Indian forces, it was something that never coalesced into the form of news. But these days some news do trickle out.
Like that of a gutsy girl in Haflong who took on a group of Army jawans, sometime in the last week of July.
I feel betrayed by the Indian government, says Muivah on Manipur visit
For a man on a mission of reaching out to his people, the National Socialist Council of Nagalim (NSCN) general secretary has been a busy man. The backdrop of talks with the Indian government makes Thuingaleng Muivah busier still. But he doesn’t keep you waiting. He doesn’t keep you waiting because he is not the kind.
The glint in his eyes is unmistakable, as he comes forward to greet me. As he exchanges pleasantries, it is evident he doesn’t forget things. He recollects my interactions with him long before the NSCN signed the ongoing ceasefire with the Indian government in 1997.
You don’t expect such a man to forget his homeland, much though he may have been away for years at a length. And he couldn’t forget his own home either. So the home front is what we start talking about.