INA in the story of an incomplete diary
- Part 1 -

Makhomani Mongsaba *

Indian National Army (INA) museum at Moirang :: June 2011

(Translated by Aheibam Anita & Aheibam Koireng Singh for incorporating as chapter in our forthcoming book on "Manipur And Second World War")

Introduction:

Inherent in the history of Manipur, Indian National Army (INA), I heard of it during my high school days around the year 1972. In my childhood days as a young student I did not give much thought to it. All that I know was that a memorial was there in Moirang. Since I did not venture out much during those days. I hardly knew much of it. As a child, Moirang, for me was very far.

Year 1976-77, I started making friends in the college. With that, crossing homestead, I began visiting friends in their homes. Then one day some friends from college and some friends from locality, we together went for a picnic lunch at Sendra that must be my first journey to Moirang. Those days, a lot of people go out for picnics to Sendra. Atop the hill, one could see people cooking in the corners. A local elderly guide showed the tree which Khamba climbed and sat on to watch Thoibi as she was fishing, pulling up her fishing net.

The road to Sendra was very bad and small too. Barely enough for two vehicles to pass by one another. Not able to drive in further, we returned back. A girl, who said her name was Ibeton was using a boat to go to her school. I could vividly recall her sailing on her way to school. By evening as we were returning way back home the sight of water chestnuts piled up for sale on the foothills was awesome.

Boiled, raw, peeled, unpeeled... heaps and heaps of them. Like the women rice vendors in the market the women were sitting in rows and selling them. As I recall, I remember the women sold them by the tins and baskets for measure. For 10 Rupees it was quite a quantity. We ate and ate with blackened lips on our way back time. We all bought to take back home too.

On reaching Moirang, we went to see INA. That was the first time I heard of INA. On the edge of the path to a big house, we saw a statue of Subashchandra Bose Standing. About Netaji, we knew since childhood about, as we had learnt about him in our early school books. But how Moirang, INA and Netaji are related, we did not know directly. We just saw the INA Memorial Hall from outside we did not go in. Our request for entry was denied as it was late. No one was there, so we returned. That was the first day we set foot on INA Moirang.

My grandmother and grandfather had some close elderly friends of Moirang. I had heard stories of lots of their friends from the place. When she heard of me visiting Moirang and our picnic at Sendra she gave me money to get water chestnuts for her. I got lots of raw one for her. One popular person from Moirang who even became the Chief Minister, Moirang Koireng was someone very close to my grandmother and grandfather, I remember that as a child, 'Moirang Koireng' called my grandmother 'Iche' (eldest sister) and my grandfather 'Taibungo' (elder brother) respectfully.

It was during his tenure as the Chief Minister of Manipur, there was a function to celebrate the Statehood Day at Pologround. At the function I was made to perform a solo Krishna Dance. I guess that must be due to their closeness. Our grandfather passed away in the year 1964-65. I could not recall much of the event as I was too young. Here in this instance I am mentioning all these to relate with this essay.

The Beginning of the Incident:

Year 1894, around this time, the wick of bomb of a story known to me about INA has started to burn. My grandmother often used to narrate to me the story of their fleeing at the Second World War. As a child, unaware of the fear and woes of a war I used to enjoy listening to her stories. It was when I was completing college, when she again told the story I was able to listen carefully. When the bomb dropped my grandmother hid in the pit along with my father and some children from the locality. She narrated while fleeing away from Imphal, she ran towards Lamsang carrying my father on her back.

One woman from Uripok who went to fetch water was also killed in the bombardment. All such blows stuck me and I wanted to start a search about the war. I went to the elders where incidents of the Second World War happened and started collecting stories. I went everywhere to meet people and listen to stories. This became my work for some time.

Among the stories – the bombing of Chingangbam Mandop, the Memorial Tomb at Nambol Maibam Lotpa Ching, the incident at Irengbam village, south of Nambol where starving Japanese soldiers pulled away cattle from the cowshed which they later killed and ate and the Japanese trench at Thoubal. These were some of the unforgettable stories of the Second World War I had collected. These stories, I had planned to structure into a big collection in my mind, only that it is unwritten. There was a time when I was moving fast but being in youth my thoughts got digressed and like early spring clouds, they drifted in the wind like the fluffy wools of the red silk cotton tree floating in the wind and changed direction. Thus there was a pause in my research a work on the war.

Then I came across the Indo–Japan Friendship association in Manipur, I went ahead with my forgotten thoughts of the War yet again to find out more. Thus, I became a life member of the Association. I joined the Association to study the Japanese language and culture and learnt a bit of the language. I knew things which I did not earlier. Meeting the Japanese war veterans who visit Manipur every year, travelling with them to some of the places related to the war increased my involvement. INA, of which I didn't knew anything I now began to understand clearly. The time was winter, a chilling December morning at that.

Our teacher who taught us Japanese language, Phurailatpam Nandakumar had kindly sent me a message. Some Japanese war veterans along with the descendants of fallen Japanese soldiers would be visiting the state to pay homage to the departed. They would be going to Nambol Maibam Lotpa Ching and Irengbam village to perform some rituals and also meet some people. I was requested to guide them. Since I was much interested on the subject, my teacher's message enthused me and I became involved all the more.

We hired a big tourist bus and along with the war veterans went to Irengbam village first. We felt so could and wore thick warm clothes but the not so well built Japanese came wearing T–shirt, least bothered of the cold. Seeing me feel so cold one of the veteran handed me a small hot pack to keep in my armpit. Having kept that in my armpit I gradually felt warmer. In a short while my whole body was warm. I no longer feel the cold. No words at that, since they came from a highly advanced country. There's a reason why they go about with light clothing in the cold. Though small, the hot pack had power.

While with them they let me use the pack but did not give that away, they took it back. There, in Irengbam village at Bishnupur district they prayed offering fruits and flowers in a temple they had built. That was the place where their soldiers died. One of the veterans asked for a particular house. He took out a map he had brought and looked up the lanes, fields and meadows. Pointing at one house he proposed we go there and so we went together. It seemed he knew the surrounding of the house. He looked about everywhere, at his request I called out to the people inside the house. Some people came out.

Seeing them he shook his head to show they were not the one he was looking for. Then when politely inquired if that was all of the family, they said one more was there, he was old and weak and bed ridden and could not move around much and now lying in bed. On our request to bring him out, the family member supported him and brought him out. They sat him down comfortably in the frontal verandah. Seeing the elders, that Japanese veteran looked closely and seems to remember something and pointing his finger he said this was the man.

I was just obliging Oja Phurailatpam Nandakumar of his request to help and was accompanying the war veterans but knew nothing about the relation between the elders and the Japanese. The veteran then said, during the Second World War when they were searching for food they killed his cattle and ate it. When asked to the Meitei elder if the incident was true and if he remembers it, the elders replied in affirmative. The veteran identified himself as the man who had pulled away the cattle from his shed and killed and ate it.

The war veteran introduced himself as that soldier and said that if he was alive till date it was because of that incident. The elder from Irengbam village was Irengbam Tollamu. He said the story was told by his elder brother Irengbam Bheigya. Bheigya had died. A tall well built man they both looked alike. Because of their similar looks, the war veteran took Tollamu to be the person he had met long ago. Most of the Japanese soldiers who were with the veteran at that time had died at that place. He survived. They came to pay tribute of fruits and flowers, where the Japanese soldiers fell.

Today the war veteran had come back searching for the owner of the cattle they killed and ate, to pay the price for the animal, we were totally taken by surprise. He asked the price for the cattle. Instead of giving or taking the price money, when a long forgotten incident of fifty years had all of a suddenly very vividly come up in front of our eyes... it seem a bond was growing and a knot of love tighten between them. The Japanese presented some gift as that they had brought with them to the family and the people gathered there. From there we headed to the memorial Tomb at the foothills of Maibam Lotpa Ching and made offerings. I wanted all that to finish up soon and drop them at the hotel and do my own work.

My work was nothing but to go back to Irengbam village and know the story further. I grew anxious in my curiosity for the story but could not do anything at that moment. The work was not complete. The Japanese were looking for an old bed ridden man who lived west of the Maibam Lotpa Hill and met him. I didn't know who the man was. I did not go back to ask his whereabouts because the sickness the elder was suffering from seemed to be something like tuberculosis. After meeting the elder we all headed towards Wangkhei, Thambal Khong.

This time the person we met was not a Meitei. We went to a Meitei-Pangal house. This elder was someone whom they knew very well. They gave him a hearing aid. After some talks among themselves, they winded up for the day. I was restless. Once I dropped them at the lodge. I first hurriedly turned back to Irengbam village and met the cattle owner the Japanese met with to find out the true story. I found out more.

During the war, everyone in Irengbam village fled away, narrated one Irengbam Tollamu. Their family members ran away to Heikhrujam, Kabowakching, a village in the west of Irengbam. Having made all the family members run away, only his elder brother, Irengbam Bheiga stayed back to look after the household and the cattle. During those days Meitei homes used to keep few tins of caramelised sugarcane juice. During the war those tins were hidden by burying them in the holes dug up inside the house. The Japanese soldiers scattered themselves and stayed in the vacant house after the families had fled away.

One day a Japanese soldier walked out of the bamboo grove and pulled a cattle away from their cowshed. Seeing that Beigya ran towards the Japanese soldier and the two had a fight. The Japanese soldier was overpowered and pinned down. Suddenly some more soldiers came out of the bamboo groves and caught him and tied him up and they killed the cattle in his compound, cut and ate it. Sad and helpless against the armed soldiers he stayed back. They ate the animal since they had no food. The incident was an unforgettable and a sad one and the man called Irengbam Bheigya remembered it lifelong and was one of the untold wartime incidents.


To be conitnued ....