"It's completely dark. Since today is load shedding day your father and I were planning to sleep early today," my mother told when I gave her my usual weekend calls.
"No TV serials for me, no Wimbledon live telecast for your father. We are on the verge of even forgetting what electricity is," she added with a tinge of sarcasm.
My mother's comments were far from the optimism she once exuded, while teaching me the Manipuri lesson: "Loktak Project Na Loirakpada", way back when I was a in my third standard.
"These latens, podons and mombatis will be a thing of the past when this 105 mega watt project becomes a reality," the translation of the lesson read, if I remembered correctly.
"Asengbagi? Adudi meingan duda tumbaga heinagadouba mandey. Manaaam namthiba Kerosene gase sijinadrasu yarani ko emaa," I remember telling mom in my childish delight.
"Ado eema MW haidi karino?"
"Oh, mei onbagi unitni. Asaangba kilometre da onbagum, aruumba kilogram da onbagum, electricity su mega watt ta olli," she told.
Circa 2005. My mother has retired from her senior lecturer's post. Her son has crossed the nine ranges, left the beautiful valley where he used to fall asleep to her lullabies. The definition of Mega Watt does not have any meaning to their lives anymore. But the situation has still remained unchanged.
The latens, podons and mombatis still continue to be a part of the house hold item, no not as a decorative piece at all, despite the Moreh invertors.
If anything has changed, then it is the kerosene, which has now become blue instead of the clear one and all the more costlier. It very much continues to be a part of my mother's life. The same applies for the mombatis, now mostly coming from Moreh.
In her old age, my mother may have lost the number of count of the the jerry cans she has changed to carry kerosense in her life, but never does she gives a miss to visit the local agent to collect the family's share of kerosene.
In the early 1980s, kerosene meant lighting the night, in the 21st Century when the world has gone beyond the messy smelly hydrocarbon, in the small corner of the house there lie five litres of the blue liquid, a few latens, a couple of podons and some packets of mombatis ......
In another corner is the invertor with two huge batteries to support it.
"What to do? We can't depend on the electricity here to light up our nights here. It never had and will never in future," her voice sounded that of a person who has given up.
Pengba Aruuba Eshingee ,a pen name, contributes regularly to e-pao.net
The writer can be contacted at [email protected]
This article was webcasted on 02nd July 2005.
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