I have been consumed by the violent events around and due to that reason I have concluded not to look at the daily newspapers. It is inevitable for the reporters to ignore shocking deaths omnipresent gun battles and, apparently, the headlines are all about people slaughtering people and exposition of obvious scams which will never be solved.
A lorry driver has been killed by one of the bullets sprayed by a gunman who seems to enjoy the view of the winding roads but can't enjoy its beauty without releasing bullets from his comfortable AK-47 rifle.
Certainly the drivers are threatened and they are going to halt leading to hike in prices of all the essential commodities in the markets across the state. This is a game which is played with enormous enthusiasm although few are benefited by it.
This could also be a practical approach to ones' freedom; freedom to carry gun and freedom to spray bullets on innocent people who have been forced to pay tax to buy imported automatic rifle only to make them their victims whenever they wish to. This is freedom. Freedom to kill anyone and the freedom to fish in the muddy water. Very interesting mates!
Confused and traumatized I have agreed to take refuge among Kangleiwood films. When I was going up I found most Hindi films quite ridiculous for it inauthentic natures and its unrealistic side and since then I have been very choosey with Hindi films.
I don't want to see Amitab Bachan and his whole family dancing and shopping together somewhere in Scotland or in Switzerland in an Indian film. What I despise has taken hold of Manipuri film industry, though, and its eagerness to copy Bollywood has worsened my frustration.
What can be expected from director Rajkumar Bishwamitra Singh who has been labouring to restore Manipuri culture and traditions?
When you are lost at the crossroad of violent and Indianized things how can one attempt to grasp what had been truly ours which appears dim and incomprehensive? May be we all are lost in translation.
Bored with Kangleiwood films now I have decided to hang out with my best mate but he seems to have become a busy man since he got married. It is natural and I respect that. So by the end of June I decide to buy the flight ticket to go to Kolkata and then to make it to Bangkok.
I use my brother's kinetic Honda bike to get to the main market which is now quite soggy and impossible to breathe fresh air when the mud dries up. With certain anxiety I ride the bike till Mahatama Gandhi Road, whose head had been blasted by rebel groups in the past and since then this place become a congested place for rifle-laden people.
It was an insult to their, now ours, Father of the Nation. As try to make my way to the travel agency I have been stopped by a police officer who speaks to me in his twanky English asking me to produce my documents.
I know that his motive is to make some money out of this sneaky checking. I try my best to explain that the bike is not mine and I want to call my brother to ask him what kind of documents he has but the officer continues his jabbering in his English which by now does not sound like English anymore.
Sounds like Meihinglish. Soon I open the tools box and try to take a look at the documents that I have found inside he snatches them and walks away from me.
I am still in the phone asking him but interrupted by this so-called officer whose behaviour appears nothing official at all. I ask him his name thinking that I will have to go to the police station to pick up the documents.
He , however, misconstrues it; I am threatening him by asking his name. Now angered and challenged the Meihinglish speaking rowdy officer grabs me by my wrist and starts dragging me with the help of another loyal bummy police man slapping me on my nape and calling me names.
To begin with he has seen me as a bank note rather a human being and in the latter stage he feels challenged since an ordinary citizen is not supposed to know his name.
He seems to forget the fact that we, the citizens, are his employers and he is our employee and he is ought to respect us. How can one make them understand when officers like him have been employed with the help of corrupt ministers who have been paid millions of rupees by our, supposedly, employees?
Look at the beauty of our motherland! Beautiful, isn't mates?
Muddy roads, daily slaughtering, and comparison of our lives to those of mosquitoes and loud talks of developments by people who fancy "talk the talk" and besides these the intense but backward moving struggle for freedom or sovereignty which has become a struggle to extort and how to run the state with their dictum.
The validated efforts to tell ordinary citizens in a democratic society when he should eat, when he should pay his tax to fragile and dodgy rebel groups and when he can he have a glass of whisky when he comes home tired.
I comprehend the fact that their efforts to discipline bum-like taxpayers have been unproductive and it will surely remain unchanged so I ,with due respect, would like suggest to them to wipe the bums out, which will allow them to have the things that they want and they can live with utmost satisfaction preventing them from minding our business.
Having seen the long-cherished I have resolved to leave my soggy motherland as I am not a sadistic audience and I have no intention to challenge since I had given up long ago.
My purpose is to meet my folks. That's it mates!
Concluded ...
* 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 09th 2007.
|