TODAY -
OH ! IDP ! IDP !
Randhir Thiyam *
Who are we?
The "refugees" in our own homeland,
The "unwanted guests",
What is our crime?
Breathing in the wrong postcode.
Who made us?
Waryour beloved factory,
where leaders mint victims like fresh coins.
Where is our home?
Behind barbed wires,
under tarpaulin roofs
temporary since forever,
Beyond the "buffer zone".
Work orders in our name
crores in your pockets.
You call it relief.
We call it daylight robbery in Gods name.
We are the IDPs
Internally Displaced People,
Externally Exploited Profits.
War created us,
your peace-process prolongs us,
suicides record our obituary.
For uslife is a draft,
death is the only clearance certificate.
Oh, IDP ! IDP !
not just a name,
but the perfect business model
for a democracy that eats its own children.
* Poem written by Randhir Thiyam for The Sangai Express
This poem was webcasted on 10 September 2025 .
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