Rise of the Indigenous Armour
Boboi Pukhrambam *
The cry for Freedom shall continue to roar.
The Youngs and the Mighties shall come out of door.
Our Men and Women would march holding hands;
Shouting the slogan, "These are our Lands . . ."
Our bed-ridden elders shall rise from their Bed.
Following their siblings, they would walk past dead.
The stagnant minds would wake up from sleep.
The faint-hearted CROWS would dare not to peep.
The deaths of our Brothers and Sisters would not go in vain.
Those would be punished who tried to mercilessly gain.
The souls of our Forefathers shall continue to weep.
Meanwhile, we have to wake up our own from sleep.
The Freedom we once cherished shall be reclaimed.
Because our Lands that are so picturesque are now stained.
The voices of our people shall rise from the Hills and Plains.
Holding the indigenous armour, they shall clear off the stains.
Oh LAININGTHOU!! Let your blessings be bestowed upon us all.
Our cultures and traditions shall lead us before we fall;
For we are marching towards our ancestral property –
Because the lives of our young ones are in jeopardy.
To Freedom, To Freedom, To Freedom
(Dedicated to all my mongoloid Brothers and Sisters of North-East)
* Poem written by Boboi Pukhrambam for e-pao.net
The Poet is a resident of Shillong and can be contacted at pukhs_bob(at)yahoo(d0t)co(dot)in
This poem was webcasted on April 08 2014.
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