The Waakching Diary — On Welcoming the New Year

This New Year started with a bang, so to say, and with a few uningdaba-taningdaba incidents. While many of us could not even afford a packet of bamboola to welcome the New Year, some exceeded their limit of afao saaba or gupthi touba by exploding bombs to mark the celebration. In the same breath, we can add it’s not a new thing.

Well, it is perhaps a matter of pride to admit that ours is a land where a pre-nursery kid can even distinguish the sound of a bomb from that of a bamboola. Again, it won’t be too far when we can buy bombs from a grocery store and use them anywhere, anytime for our own personal reasons; logical or illogical, it matters not. So, you had a tiff with Tomba or Chaoba or when someone said no to a request or command or whatsoever, hurl a bomb—that’s the best ever way to settle a score. And that’s a lesson our society has been teaching us. Who needs a ‘reasonable’ reason in our leiraks and leikais?

New Year, Old Craps

Anouba chahi, anouba manglaan and anouba wakhalon sound so good to listen to or read about, but when it comes to the reality in our state, one should clearly hear it and read between the lines. Comfortably numb; we have started expecting any untoward incident with this deep-rooted psyche that we are meant to endure all these bullshits all around the year.

We are being told and convinced that we are the citizens of the largest democracy yet it is almost like a pipedream when it comes to our rights. Why is there a black maikhal when it comes to exercising our democratic rights in our homeland? Why should we be immune to any unfavourable incident that happens every now and then? Bans, restrictions and more bans and restriction—sometimes the prevailing claustrophobia is too hard on our senses.

To cite the simplest example, if you go out with friends in the late evenings, you get frisked mandatorily by the security personnel. There is no implication that we only want to go out in the evenings but you get what I mean; after all we are the united people of the united land. And whether you have proper documents for your vehicle or not, you will be charged, at least a Yaangkhei or Chaama note for their allowances, read their cha thaknaba. I wonder if we should start carrying cha in a Moreh flask to avoid giving cha-thaknaba sen to the thirsty lots, eh?!

Old Habits Die Hard

Paying bribes is a noble chatnabi in Manipur. The more you pay, the better you are and the higher post you get in the lone governmental jobs and the faster a task is completed. Well, which chatnabi are we referring to? Are we not the ones who have been promoting this chatnabi in the first place? What had started should come to an end. It’s the high time we re-look at the aged-old formula of economics’ demand and supply and restate this way: Where there isn’t any supply, demand will ultimately stop.

So, from this year onwards, let us start making some sense (not necessarily in a factory or some sort of an assembly line).

If you have proper documents for your vehicle, have the guts to tell a straight ‘No’, if they ask you for a Yaangkhei or Chaama-chapi note. If you are eligible for a particular post, never ever think about mortgaging your lou or ingkhol just to pay lacs to the ridiculously sounding ‘concerned authorities’.

It is the high time we continuously remind ourselves that this is our own homeland. We are not supposed to feel like an alien here. Why should we be afraid to loiter freely in our homeland? Why should we be scared to drive anywhere in our own city no matter the time of the day or night? Why should they have a price tag for a job opening that we are eligible for? Let us start questioning ourselves with such questions from time to time. It is easier said than done but again, there has to be an end and there has to be a new beginning. And the New Year is just the right time.

On other occasions, it is sheer stupidity to yell ‘Akhoigi ngamkhei kaiba yaaroi’ when we are busy building walls fencing ourselves away from our neighbours. All we need is a daily dose of sanity which is available at free of cost. When we talk about these issues, the list will be endless. A small beginning has the potential to make a big impact. Let this New Year enlighten us all and help us have our stand. Let our state rise from the slumber and shine.

Wishing all of you a very happy and sensible new year!

This article was published on 5 Jan 2013

The Poinu Diary — Of Cold Evenings and Warm Memories

‘Hawai uri mapaan’ mightily blossoms amid the frigid chill and the icy grip of Poinu. Drenched in the ingtham ullen, Hungaam also offers its authentic flavour by this time of the year. Manipur Masala today presents The Poinu Diary—Of cold evenings and warm memories.

Poinu marks the main harvest season in Manipur. Blessed by Phou-Oibi, sacks of rice are delivered at our homes by the village folks who have toiled the entire year for a bountiful harvest.

Cold Poinu evenings are fondled by warm memories of good old childhood days. Sacks of rice laden bullock carts used to be quite a sight during those days. As kids, we had mischievously wanted to hop on those dragging carts and enjoy the ride down the street. The sight of the flickering lantern lit up on the san-gaari and the accompanying sound of sanarik still rings the memory bells.

Along came charoo with those huge sacks. Evenings were never the same for us. Una-waana, utek-waatek were collected to lit up a bonfire. As we enjoyed the evening bonfire after a full-fledged day playing games, we were never exhausted to learn the art of kabok pokpa out of those bundles of charoo.

The pre-dinner funga waari narrating session by our beloved abok or edhou made us super happy. Ah! Those were the days indeed.

Things are completely different in today’s Manipur. And as the evening transcends, life comes to a standstill here. It is not a surprising discovery that modern homes now have a temporary funga. Induction cookers, ovens, grillers, toasters etc. have adorned most of the kitchens nowadays. All thanks to technology, life has become much easier like never before in modern Manipur. The only recipe that is missing in modern Manipur’s menu, in this context, is a proper night life for our folks.

Night life is but a luxury that cannot be afforded by anyone here. Technology which has favoured our lives in many ways cannot even cure an ounce of fear that most of us have. Yes, it is but an open secret to all of us that fear comes along with darkness. I am completely numb to describe the nature of this fear. It does not mean I cannot cite down a number of reasons that have tinctured an incurable fear on our mind.

Earlier, when we were kids, the nature of fear was different. The fear of Churan-Thaaba was perhaps the only of its kind then. Elders used to scare us that Churaan-Thaaba would come carrying a big borakhao to pick up kids and would slice them into pieces and gorge on as their food. The irony is, such a thing never ever happened. As we grow up, the fear of that fabled Churan-Thaaba ultimately became mami-sami while we started encountering the real ones. In modern Manipur, there are different types of Churan-Thaaba — some are uniformed and some are not.

Defining the nature of a modern Churan-Thaaba is not a tough task in modern Manipur. Even a pre-nursery kid would easily sing a rhyme about him.

We at least, share a loving memory of that fabled Churan-Thaaba whose fear gripped us during our childhood days. The sight of a modern Churan-Thaaba not only makes us scared but nauseated too. And the saddest part is there are too many of them almost everywhere.

By the way, kumsi’s Poinu has been quite a quiet month as compared to last year’s. I wish Waakching, Phairen and Lamtaa also pass on in the same manner. As we fondle warm memories of cold Poinu evenings, let us also pray for the wellbeing of all the Churan-Thaaba. May they get well soon. May our state become at least a leiheiba lamdam!

This article was published on 22 Dec 2013

Of Imphal and Its Matam Matamgi Waafam

Imphal town has now two Shamumakhongs to flaunt—the one at Khwairamband Keithel and the recently built piece at the Bheigyachandra Open Air Theatre complex. Meanwhile, my own leikai has two community halls to flaunt too.

Manipur Masala presents the Imphal town and its matam matamgi waafam—a brief take on some irredeemable norms, some overtly visible, some covert, at various localities across the city.

The other day, out of curiosity, I asked a nephew, ‘Nang swa saaanaba heibra’. He replied, ‘Swa haisibu keino nene’.

I had to explain the rules and regulations of playing swa. I did share my experience of playing the game when we were kids. He was impressive with my explanation; it was obvious from how he was listening. He continued, ‘Nene swa si computer dei download touraga saanaba yagadro?’

I was quite amused by his innocent question but I was equally disturbed. I could not help greet myself — welcome to modern Manipur — where the kids no more play at the leikaigi lampak. Imphal Talkies’ Lullaby started humming as the background music on my mind and I sang along: ‘Te te tenawa kangleipaaki tenewa angaangna moonlaga tenwaana haraowi, uuuu... Una saaba nongmeini mana pangba makhoini’.

During our angaang oiringei days, we used to play all sorts of local games such as swa, u-paibi, amangbi, langri-taang and so on. Most of the kids in Imphal do not play these games anymore. What could be the reason for their indifference towards the local games?

Is it the rising trend of constructing community halls in each and every leikai which do not spare the leikaigi lampak where kids can play? Is it the fear psychosis on parents’ minds that their kids may be kidnapped while playing at a lampak, which eventually forbid their children from playing at the lampak? Is it the new-age syndrome of hainingai leitana chaokhatlaba Manipur? Obviously, the questions are varied though we have the same answer: ‘Khangde tourisey’.

Everybody can get the feel for the rising trend of using mobile phones and computers aka internet in our society. For instance, from school-going kids to keithel-fambi eney endol and aboks, having a mobile phone is a must these days. However, when it comes to the construction of more than two community halls in a single leikai, I have my own indigestive opinion. Of course, having a community hall in a locality is a must and it offers many benefits to many families in a leikai.

In a state like ours where thoudok-waathok and ushop-mela are frequently observed throughout the year, a community hall serves multiple benefits especially to those who do not have a proper shumaang. Also with the rising cost of Maantop khanba, community halls are an affordable option for many. However, having a single community hall in a leikai is enough. There is no logic behind constructing two community halls in a single leikai. Maybe the contractors have different opinions but nothing is certain these days.

Well, I have observed another trend in which one has to destroy something to build something else. A sign of modernity? Such is the case of sambhals being replaced by chekpals. Earlier, when we were kids, a sambhal was created just to fence an ingkhol from shaa-sun. In modern Manipur, especially in and around Imphal, sambhals are becoming cousins of the dinosaurs; meanwhile the chekpals are getting taller and taller each day. Besides the ingkhol khopchinbagi khatnaba and mindless nungsinadaba nature in the keirol-leikai, constructing a wall also means securing one’s family from miscreants (read extortionists whose population keep rising at an alarming rate).

As the walls get thickened with leikhom-leinaang over the years, memories of good old childhood days are also eventually fading away. We had our days of singju suraga chanaba, nungthilda chara waanminaba and leikai koinaba. Meanwhile for modern kids, computer games and cartoon characters are building a Random Access Memory on their mind.

I am not surprised by the very fact that most of my nephews and nieces do not have any idea about the local games we used to play as kids. At times, I wonder if I should start taking free tuition for kids to tincture innocent memories on their minds about their childhood days. Would not it be something innovative, eh?

This article was published on 8 Dec 2013

Of Sangai Fever and Dilemmas So Wild

Manipur Masala has some spicy matam-matamgi news and views to share with all the readers. This is a special collection for you.

sA packet of santhi at present costs ten rupees, as the tok-nga effect, many households have stocks of thoom packet that would last for at least a year or so, and most interestingly, if you park your vehicle for more than two hours at a particular site, more so in the zero mile, the bomb squad may come to your rescue to lend you a helping hand and to give it a kick-start. That’s how low our life has plunged into.

The mess has got company. The All Manipur Thou Leitraba Association (AMTLA), Wangkhei Konung Mamang branch, has come to this resolution that November should be observed as Wangkhei Konung Mamang Sorok Semgat Saagatpa Tha for the obvious reasons.

As regards to the main venue of the Sangai Festival—the construction, renovation and decoration works for the Wangkhei Konung Mamang had been on full swing, right from the beginning of the month. The toukhaiba, leibaak and noong thaaba and koilaash thaaba have become a major part of the pre-preparation of the festival in the vicinity of the venue.

The festival kicked off the other day, with great pomp and show, and will continue for the rest of the month. However, the preparation has left some open questions.

How many times must a thikadaar construct a road before it is finally constructed? Will it continue in the future too? Do our government departments have a deep pocket for maintaining the road every year? And yes, if there is a need for lambi semgat saagatpa in and around the vicinity of the main venue of the festival, why not so in other places, elsewhere in the city/state? If the Sangai Festival is the carnival of Manipur, the whole state should also wear a renovated look. Why just a few areas? The time has truly stopped when Manipur indulges in a fake orgy.

The route that stretches from Kangla and Sanjenthong to Hapta Kangjeibung has been adorned like a bride in full glittering costume. The other day, while passing through the stretch, I had this feeling ‘Eh Delhidum maaliney swaisidi’. I had an oxymoronic wish that our entire state should also wear a uniform look like that. Is this too much to ask from the government?

Luckily for Wangkheilites, the festival is a blessing in disguise. We have been enjoying uninterrupted power supply. Most of us are not used to such a facility. It seems a little teina-onaba routine when we can switch on our television sets or charge our mobile phones anytime during the day. We are so pampered by this festival. Usually, it was all different. We had to charge our phone with this trepidation on our mind that the mei will muut anytime.

Mei laaklingeida chaak thongdokba has been the catchword in many leirak and leikai. Many families would prepare their dinner during daytime. All thanks to the Sangai Festival, many families at least in Wangkhei, have redefined the experience of preparing dinner in time and relishing it in the fong fong saaba way. What a luxury in this new millennium! But then, for many leikais, the dark nights still rule. What seems like a blessing in disguise for some is a dark curse for many.

There is a saying that behind every successful man, there is a woman. Well, in a localised version—behind every luxury of uninterrupted power supply, we have more localities lost in the darkness. Back in the Nineties, it was either due to lack of or abundance of water at the hydroelectric project. Now the electricity department has a thousand reasons of darkness.

The situation is pathetic especially for the school kids as this is the time of the year for annual final exams. All the families cannot afford an inverter or a generator. Regular power supply should be provided so that there is no hindrance; after all, it is a matter of the future of the children. I know most of our children are used to studying under the made-in-Thailand Moreh lamps, I just wish they had a better option.

Well, the festival flaunts the rich culture and tradition of Manipur on one hand. While on the other, it shames us with the naked truth of how we are experts in ‘mawong maalhanba heiba’. They light up some specific areas in the city to feast the eyes of foreign tourists while the overall backdrop of the city remains darker than ever before. Beauty is, we know, just skin deep. Whatsoever, I am allergic to such a khadrak as long as the colour of my conscience does not turn grey.

Can we expect better road facilities across the city by the next Sangai Festival? Can we expect better power supply? Can we have an ultimate cure from the prevailing fear psychosis? I know not who will provide a positive reply for my questions. As always, amambada wai sitchari ei, just to avoid the allergic sight of ufool waifool. For more news, please do read the newspapers.

This article was published on 24 Nov 2013

The Hiyangei Diary — A Reconciliation!

Like a haiba inbi daughter of my palem, I packed my bags and took a flight back home from Delhi, relieving myself from the hectic schedules of big city life. There is no comparison to the feeling of relocating back at home, mingling among my folks and sharing a relaxed smile with them.

I love waking up listening to the chirps of uchek-waya here rather than pricking my ears to the kabari waala or sabji waala yakairol back in Delhi. Paneer masala or chicken kadhai does not score a yummier mark than mom’s kaangsoi or eronba. A chance meeting with an old friend and the accompanying chit-chats make my day. Walking beneath the starlit night of hiyangei sky, the never ending heegatpa session with siblings and cousins, the smell of insaang ahaoba from one of the leikaigi chakhum and the accompanying ‘chaak laambagi’ expression on our faces not to forget mom’s culinary skill that has now been upgraded to bubok’s-Ah! It’s indeed good to be at home. I want to cherish this feeling forever provided I have enough courage to ignore or endure hypocrisy, mindlessness and the laid-back attitude that are most often observed among our folks.

Well, I must not forget to mention about the yumfam yaodaba rumours that have become a favourite nga-mok for us. We generally love relishing any tok-nga with utter delicacy (as if it’s some scrumptious achapot). The latest one being the thoom fangdabagi tok-nga.

A busy afternoon for all of us, the wedding preparation for my cousin was in full swing on that day. Amid the nupamayumgi thouraang and hobey-hobey chenaba hours, I overheard some leikaigi eney-endol worriedly telling each other about one of the (apparently) paakhatningai oiba situations they ever have to face i.e. unavailability of salt. Quite a khayaaknaba experience for many, it eventually turned out to be a rumour but the series of thoom-thiba missions that happened during the day were beyond my thajabagi waangmada.

Panicked by the possible shortage of thoom, the most important ingredient of every chakhum, there was a frantic search for thoom packet everywhere across the city. ‘Packet ta lupa chaama youhoure hai, Mani dukandadi packet amtabu yaohoudre hai kamai touni tourisidi’. I overheard all these real-time dialogues among my folks and wanted to believe them as some funny dialogues from a Manipuri movie but I could not any more. The salty rumour kept on spreading like a wildfire. The rich and the poor were flaunting their purchasing ability of thoom khwaidei yaamna leisinba.

Meanwhile, it was a lucrative business opportunity for all those dukandaars who earlier stocked up sacks of salt packets of all brands. A packet of salt worth just seven bucks was sold at the price of hundred. And the funniest (read stupid) part was that people in deed bought thoom packets at a skyrocketing price sans any negotiation. I badly wanted to scream at the height of stupidity of our folks. Yet, I simultaneously felt sorry for their paakhatchaoba nature when it comes to the prospect of scarcity of any consumer item- be it thoom, cooking gas or petrol.

‘Oh Hello? This is Manipur. Just keep calm if you want to stay back here’- the interior monologue in my mind ultimately helped me pacify. Perhaps, reconciliation is the one and only solution. After all I made my own decision to come back here. Bomb blast, general strikes, yumfam yaodaba tok-nga or the ufool-waifool at the lambi sorok are just some oh-so-Manipur factors. We shall overcome them someday. Oh deep in my heart I do believe, we shall overcome someday (perhaps on 32nd December).

This article was published on 17 Nov 2013