by Akhu Chingangbam


Starving fathers and mothers
spitting saliva
defying hunger
sitting at their courtyard
sipping black tea
talking insanity of Mr. Ibobi
while their children walk out on the roads
giggling wiping their watery nose.
with white chalks
writing on the deserted road
whatever they have learnt in schools
whatever they have heard in songs
"Unity in Diversity"
"Thanaleipak Money-pur"


Dangling phaneks and bras
Blood stained petticoats and panties
singing freedom in the wind of wild east
from the top of their lungs.
wind kissing the fallen leaves
burning tyres spinning towards the military trucks
broken mirrors singing "Cut me if you can"
and the last cry, cupped by
silence, looking again for its way
to find its destiny in history,
in books, in speeches.

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