After having spent an alcoholic night at Kolkata airport with two young blokes from Imphal who were heading Chennai I am at the departure section waiting for Imphal-bound flight talking to some folks from Manipur who are heading for different destinations in India.
Traveling by flight, few years ago, would be a luxury but that has become a thing of the past with the birth of several airline companies which has woken up and shaken the dull and bureaucratic aviation industry.
Hours-long chat with passengers from different parts in India has helped me pass my time and now I am at the check-in counter flashing my e-ticket in front of a SLR rifle-laden, moustache sporting security guard who releases a smile, at last, at my strange manner.
The baggage check-in area is packed out with young flyers in their best attires smiling and probably showcasing the changing outlook and impression of modern India. My desperate eyes have ogled and browsed the beauties that I wanted to glimpse and am on my way to check-in my bag.
As I am on the way I have been stopped by a sweat-soaked bloke who approaches me with a plastic smile and starts asking if I can check in my bag with them since I have just one bag and they are carrying mountain of bags and boxes. I say I can and wait for them to go with me to the counter but things appear little dodgy after I see not just one guy but a group of strangers asking other Imphal-bound passengers to share their loads.
The fellow who has approached me a while ago says that he is going to get the check-in form but he is not moving, wandering and soliciting other people, and that worries me more now with anticipating suspicion. Enough is enough.
I tell them that I can't be a part of the dodgy-looking team since I don't know them well and pull down my pack and trudge for the check-in counter where I meet no trouble and welcome by a smiling fellow.
All done with my works I pass through a group of clangy men in uniform and walk up to the last security counter where I am frisked meticulously. I still have one hour since the flight is late for 15 minutes so I decide to slouch on one of the couches watching CNN( Indian version) and jumpy-joyous Bollywood films.
The flight has arrived now but a prior apology was not offered to us and I sit by the window overlooking the bony construction workers in their wretched-clothes digging pitch few metres away from the plane. As I sit with anticipation a young couple arrive and sit next to me talking in Meihinglish( Meiteilon+Hindi+English) about their status in the crumbling Manipuri society. I just listen and try not to be absorbed.
It is already mid-day now the middle aged -overweigh-unfriendly looking flight attendants have given me a brunch pack. I open it and try to chew on the smelling sandwich served with some Indianised Chinese Manchurian.
Disappointed with I have been served I put it back and ask for a cup of coffee. The shuffling flight attendant says she will get it soon. I wait and wait only to know that she does not mean what she has said.
Now the plane is swarmed by thick and monstrous clouds which seem to grow on green mountains and an incoherent voice announces that we are going to land at Imphal airport in few minutes. The plane hovers above vast paddy fields and in few minutes it touches the tarmac and runs in between the green fields and halts in front of the main building which displays Meitei characters.
After I have picked my bag I walk till the very end of the exit and browse for my big brother. And there is no sign of him around. I use the payphone to call him and he says that he is around in a mini-van.
Happy to see my sister, niece and big brother at the airport I talk to them about many things at the same time trying to accept that fact that the roads have always been small and marked with potholes. Hell! How can people ride so carelessly on these roads?
At home my relatives have occupied the lawn as well as the patio and the first thing that my aunties and my uncles want to know is how much money I make in a month and how much I have brought home. I do know that our family is not rich, however, we are not that materialistic or so money-centred.
The monetary curiosity does not end here; every person that I meet wants to know the same thing, except for my big brothers and best friend. In fact I am quite thankful to my siblings and best mate for their understanding.
For nearly a week I travel across the town in bus and ride a bicycle to examine the changes but what I have seen don't impress me. May be constancy is the principle that we all have adopted and disrespect seems to run inside it. There are many who want to speak up but there are plenty of silencers and it is naïve for one to be so courageous, unless he/she does not mind risking once-born life.
My best mate has become a teacher since he got married and he seems to have respect for his job although it is underpaid and tiring. But he is working with bunch of blokes who have joined the profession with an unproductive attitude. How can a teacher educate the young minds when they don't enjoy doing it and has no respect for his profession?
On my second day I decide to go to the only state-sponsored university to look for some books at the library and to use internet. But my sense of dressing seems to disappoint the people there as I wear short-pants and sleeveless shirt.
The man at the library counter asks me if I am a construction worker, in his best sarcastic manner and commands me to put on some decent cloths. I listen to him and try not to have an argument with him but a bloke who is encouraged by the man at the counter screams to ask why I have not listened to what I have been told to do.
Now infuriated by it and can't take it any longer so I rise from my chair and tell him that what I am wearing is not indecent and he can only tell a school boy what he should wear. Despite my attempt to make him understand him and the older fellow they appear not to be convinced.
When I was in Pune and in other places in India I came across similar situations and I thought Manipuri were rather open-minded people. I was proved wrong and the senseless conservatism at the heart of a university prevails, which seems like an odd thing, minding what people should wear where people should rather be more concerned about different thoughts and maintain respect for unique personalities.
On the flip side, coming close to reality ,it is not strange that absurdity like this prevails thus more students are into students politics and getting ready for politically motivated stuffs instead of covering themselves among books and journals and spending times on constructive criticism with thoughtful people and intellectuals.
No wonder we see more highway blockades and forceful demonstrations organized by students organizations in further augmentation of dilapidation of the educational institutes at a place like ours where it should be strengthened to attend the social crises we are confronting.
To be continued ...
* N. Bobo Meitei, a resident of Bangkok, contributes to e-pao.net regularly.
The writer can be contacted at bobomeitei(at)hotmail(dot)com .
This article was webcasted on November 01st 2007.
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