Tribute to Akha Salouni and Comrade-Victims of Racism
A letter from the land of "Seven Sisters"

Sira Kharay *

Mortal remains of Akha Shaloni arrives at Imphal Tulihal Airport from Delhi on 23 July 2014 :: Pix - Deepak Oinam

In the land of "Seven Sisters", natural peace, freedom and equality roam freely with the living dignity of human values. There was once natural existence of free human beings in the soil of this sacred land.

The Ahoms came to our land in the 13th century and established a kingdom there. The British met our forefathers in 1826, and in an unceremonious departure, they left us in the hands of India in 1947. Soon by the dawn of 1950, the Indian Armies overrun our sacred land and the "civil state" receded forever to a distant land. They came with the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act to rob us of our humanity forever and we became a mere geographical existence for satisfying the lust of martial tyranny.

Death is imminent at every sight of an army. For we are not any citizen, but mere civils, or militants by definition. The wake to escape from war and invasion became our way of life. Perhaps, we learn to differentiate guns from the sounds of their rattling and popping bullets though we haven't touched or seen any of them for real.

The birth of a girl child should be a day of mourning, because to get raped is her fate of growing up. We master the countenances of submission and docility to constantly please the army convoys and patrols. In any case, we must master to appear civil and never tremble before check-posts, lest we might get caught for a militant.

Keep short hairs, talk polite and appear gracious were what mama always taught. Whenever an army official commands, we knew no mortal can offend him – he who must live must always appeal to his mercy. Servility is our only self-defence.

Military camps and outposts fascinatingly lurk at every hilltop of our villages. But schools are for rare appearances in thatched houses and universities and corporate houses are at distant cities of "mainland India". We escape to Indian "mainland cities" for a respite in the universities, but alas, cities are not safe for us because we look more "Asian" than "Indian"!

We are in a constant hideout even inside our own rented apartments. To choose to defend and fight back is paid with one's own lives and limbs and for the first time in this country, we are forced to give up our right to self-defence as humanity.

Unless our lives and limbs are gravely endangered and injured, we usually choose to ignore all and every such racist hate-crime for there are already too many and enumerable in time.

May all the lanes and streets be safe for the day is our daily morning invocation. Nevertheless, we still rush to police stations every day, but we are blamed at point blank for what we are being Northeast in our way and manner of living. Even before the majestic Court rooms, we are not spared to chase away with scars and bruises.

In order to be safe in this country, we must either become invisible or we must speak, eat, sleep, drink, dress, behave and look like the "mainland Indians". Perhaps, we were scared of the wild woods when we were young, only to realise here that the woods are the only safe place for us to live.

We asked for special political recognition and anti-racist law, but justice for us consists in appeal from Caesar to Caesar's wife. We are to pattern ourselves into accepting injustice as our new norms of liberty to fit ourselves into this idea of multicultural India. Sisyphus was not our grandfather, but we live to inherit his curse every day. We have only heard of human dignity, justice, liberty and people of nations being safe, but we still haven't seen what they really are.

We have run through everywhere to see how human beings in dignity, justice and liberty really feel like, but it is never found in this country. Nevertheless, we hope we will surely spot dignity, justice and liberty and feel safe someday when we land in the streets of another country in a foreign land!