VOICES AWAY FROM HOME
– Lian Samte

Brace, this is going to be a long essay.

Let this do for introduction: One moment you are represented to the world by Raas Leela and Ironba (although you have nothing to do with them); you've prided in Loktak Lake and Sangai, the brow-antlered deer. One moment you've cheered for Dingko Singh, Sharmila Chanu, Renedy Singh; you've rooted for the Olympian Sarita Devi even when she, in a sardonic gesture, put her bronze medal on her rival's neck. Then, the next moment, you are a foreigner. This happens only in Manipur. Under such a circumstance, citizens of any country will react sharply. The hills are no exception.

In one sense, I feel very lucky to be witness, at least in a distance, to the recent upheaval of Manipur hills. It will be talked about in tribal history for generations. As I choose to believe, it is a turning point, a landmark, where all hillspeople come together, as never before, in one spirit, in one determination. Whether the goal is achieved or not has to be seen, though.

I wish I could be there to chip in my part although that may make no visible difference. But for the very reason for which the current uprising has occurred, I have been forced to seek a living beyond the green hills miles away from home. As a distant observer, I have nothing to give except words that, I am afraid, may sound empty and at times uncalled for. Yet many a night had I too spent sleepless mulling and mooting the matter over and over. Sometimes I feel had two generations before me done this unity thing, today I would've been happily employed in my own state, transacting official business in my own language, conducting international trade relations to the optimum benefit of my land and my people. And in my unsleeping mind's eye, I could see my land not far behind the most civilized and progressive nations in the world.

Anyway, I am glad to know that if the 'protests' panned out as desired, then, in my heart of hearts, I do believe that at least my children, and my children's children, can come home to a home they can truly call theirs.

As for the principals who've lent their hands to lead this spontaneous and unruly public outrage, I have nothing but awe and admiration. Being in front is always best, sang Don Williams, the American country crooner. But, in this case, it certainly is not. Rather, it's a classic case of woe-to-the-head-that-wears-the-crown. You never know when the mob will turn upon you and raze your house for one accidental slip of the tongue.

When the going gets tough, I'd like the leaders to constantly keep the sculptor in mind. A sculptor doesn't add to the stone block but rather chips it off to achieve the masterpiece that only his imagination could see for now. What we want to achieve with this public outcry is still in the inner eye of the leaders. In many instances, we, the public could not see through their shrouded ploy. That is why we sometimes doubt or misunderstand their judgements and pronouncements.

However, when voices rise, silencing them is not always the best solution. It is impossible to contain public indignation, especially in politically flammable state of affairs like now. Rather, it is time to gather more voices, more views, more opinions and to press our prudence into full service shifting through the rumbling voices; considering the ones that give a good ring and discarding those that thud. The voices mean to help us and we should try to appreciate them. The bigger the marble, the more material and freedom to hew.

By saying this, it's not that I blame the leaders if their nerves are frayed and their patience brittle. That should rather be expected. Sometimes, a small gag on the public's mouth may work wonders in achieving silent compliance. But that is for a short term. You cannot plug the human mouth for long. If they don't let out their words, they will cough at the bottom and spread foul gas. And we certainly don't want to smell that, do we? Just joking!

There are people who don't like outpour of ideas, views, and opinions. Dude, we are living in a cyber world. You cannot stop voices. Voices are ideas. Kill the man, but you cannot keep ideas under wrap. Even if you managed to blackout Facebook, Whatsapp, Twitter and the like, more forums will give voice to the unheard. If there is no platform, one will simply sprout from nowhere. It's time we take IT and the social sites seriously into account.

The American War of Independence, the French Revolution, the English Revolutions, all draw inspiration from known and unknown people who speak out their minds in writing. In my humble opinion, we are having far too few writers. In fact, we need more thinkers and writers who'd retreat into their private caves and knock out words upon words from which we can draw inspiration, guidance, and motivation. We are having a mere handful of writers. And we threaten them sometimes. How silly can we be when we like!

We need more crops of authors. Essays, articles, books, stories, novels and dramas, all are not only great literary treasures but perennial wellsprings of knowledge from which we can freely draw. We need more hands to write and more heads to brood. We should not discourage them.

Yes, there are people who just keep on venting their ire, knowing not what they really want to say or mean. They are steaming out their frustrations which unintentionally do more harm than good. Sometimes, holding your tongue is the best speech. The public has to learn that too.

Leaders are not gods or angels. They can falter, they can miscalculate. They can even not see it coming until tragedy hit us right in the gut. It is at such moments that they needed us most. And leaders also must be aware that it is in such situations that they need the public most. When in doubt, ask the public. It is always better to go with the popular voice, even at the point of being wrong. It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong. By government, I mean the people. God, we are living in the world's biggest democracy. You can never impose your diktats against the wishes of the public. It is like a spring under tension. It flexes back with the fury of Newton's third law of motion.

Mind you, public mind is fickle. It will fawn over you as long as you are a darling. But it will have not an iota of compunction to turn against you should you offend. It is the same public who cried 'Hosanna' that swore the death of our Lord. It is sometimes really hard to understand reality.

O, leaders who are leading our current movement, I could not speak enough of my esteem for you. I am really proud of you. You are incredible. All of you are firebrands in your own right, blazing a trend which no generation of ours had ever yet seen. It is not an easy task to lead an angry mob. I really want to encourage you to take heart and push on against all odds.

Dear leaders, keep pushing. We are right behind you. If you fall, we are there to cushion you so that you may pick yourself up again and lift the standard even higher than before. Remember, the public are looking up to you with tearful hopes in their eyes. You are our captains, leading us to the landmass where our forefathers once lived as true sons of the soil. The waters may be choppy and the boat may rock, but we believe you are strong and skilled enough to steer us safely ashore.

Neither waver nor fear. For we have made a promise to be with you through thick and thin. The road may be replete with temptations. Put on your guard. They don't call them temptations these days. They call them 'offers'. You get them in cash, in kind, or in whichever form you may demand. Never sell us for your personal gains. Look ahead, there is a bigger promise if you can hold on your integrity. It won't be long. Decide to trade us if you may after all, we may perish but your gains will prove nothing without us either. There will be nobody to marvel at the wonderful achievement you've made with your political commerce.

If you need sweat, we have given you sweat; and we will give you more. If you need blood, we have given you blood; and we will give you more. And if you need life, we have given nine, and we will, God forbid, give that even more.

Yes, we believe that a true leader makes a humble entry with even a humbler beginning. We take you for your word not because you are the best but because we take you to be the best for us. Push on! Our full weight is behind you.

As far as our martyrs are concerned, I have this to say. Some people may call them rioters, anarchists, street boys, or even 'thieves'. Still, they are martyrs for me (and hopefully for us all). A political martyr is not always a saint. Now, most recently, I hear that a decision has been taken to inter the mortal remains of the great martyrs on the grounds of being heard by the Central Government and the possible stench and contamination the decomposing flesh may cause. I don't outright defy or criticize the collective wisdom of the Tribe Councils or the leaders. They have their own reasons and rationale which may be no less sound and justifiable. However, I still have my own qualms to lay at rest.

The mortal remains of our martyrs are our strongest negotiating tool. Giving them their last honours will only mean letting our ultimate leverage off. We should always put our best foot forward. If we let the martyrs go, the valley and the centre will heave a big sigh of relief. Can we put it that way?

Let the lowly bodies rot. We will live with the bare bones until our issues are smarted out. We should rather transport all the martyrs to the national capital and march them down Rajpath in full view and glory. Let the martyrs die a hero's death. And let the Centre and the State pay their respects too.

'Being heard' is not enough (as far as I am concerned!). Moses saw the Promised Land but never set foot into it. We don't want our grievances heard, we want them redressed. And we shall not stop till the goal is reached. For who knows when this opportunity will knock again.

Learn from the grit of our womenfolk. I cannot stop admiring their courage and audacity. I am totally astounded by their enterprise and alacrity to step out from their hearths and take charge of the frontlines. It is perhaps to prevent more loss of life. But it later turned out to be a movement in its own right. That is most awe-inspiring. Nowhere in the world did women form a human-chain more than 20 kilometres long under the shadow of live bullets and threat of assault. And no security is arranged by the State. We have indeed created history, unawares.

If this is not a call for open revolution, then we all should go back to our homes and not grumble with the unfair treatment meted out to us then, now, or in the future.

There is one thing I cannot make out in this budding upsurge. What do we expect from our militant outfits? Why do we expect what we expect?

Yes, I agree, they are living on the feeds off our palms. They are Frankensteins. But militants are what militants do. They browbeat and extort their own society. They have been drumming up sentiments of unity, revolution, social order, and all sorts high flying cultural and communal ideals. But when the occasion presents itself, they had their reasons to shy away as though popular outrage has never been their agendum. Militant movement, without popular support is nothing but gun culture, gang-war, and terrorism. Militantism thrives only where people are ignorant, under-developed and deprived. Nobody, at least till today, is known to have achieved great heights with their militants. What are we trying to accomplish with them?

Let the militants alone. A time will come when the earth is fed up with them. Then, nature will find its way of ridding them. Don't burn their houses again. They won't live there forever. Just make sure they don't rub you at the wrong places. Mess with them at your own risk. A bullet has no second thought. Beware of the backlash. A reign of terror could be unleashed. Or the wheel of selective purging may be set in motion like the days of the Nazis. It is best to live in harmony. When the gun talks, even the strongest man has to hold his peace. For the gun speaks Death and absolutely no other language. We cannot afford stupid deaths. We still have a long way to go.

I am only hinting at the basic premises of which all militant outfits found their existence and prosperity. Not necessarily that our tribal outfits are like that. However, if the militants dispense justice, it is usually instant. Nothing like a fair trial. Bang, and it's done. The good they stand for is not for the common man but for the vested few. The order they boast to bring about is nothing but the safety and peace of their own ilk. Nothing more, nothing less.

Nevertheless, we still look up to our UGs for rescue and deliverance. They are still our saviours, our last line of defence. Even after reviling them so much, we can't help but still nurse a soft corner with deep regard and adoration for what they've done for us and will do in the days to come. Such is the faith we put on them. I pray they don't let our hope and aspirations down.

Well, the ride is long and rough. Let me tie up the loose ends with a benediction. Be warned, be safe, and let the banner of the revolution fly high. A day will come when our generations will sing to our political vision and valour. A day will come when our young generations will make a living in their own free land and not be butts of Chinki-jokes and humiliation in the mainland or elsewhere. A day will come when they will cry tears of joy for our humble revolt and thank the heavens.

I hang up.

–03102015/2333hrssatptplwb—