If You Love Your Motherland, Live in Manipur
|Manipur is in black|
Image: CC-by-sa PlaneMad/Wikimedia Commons
That is how many of our folks define patriotism. Yet it opens more questions than answering the nuances of what an individual has to do for his motherland or altruistic purposes. If nothing else, it shows blatantly how stupid we are and how we live in such a contradictory world, bifurcated with narrow minds and primitive thoughts.
Make a Styleless Statement
Here’s an abstract. We belong to Manipur, a province in Indian frontier bordering Burma. For the last six decades (not years, but in decades), there has been an armed struggle for the right to self-determination. Now violence and corruption are our identities. A fine line exists as well when we talk about India and Manipur as in two separate geopolitical entities. The fact is that we have been in the crisis for quite a long time and it is showing on our diurnal lives and collective existence—the worst effect is in our thought process. For instance, it is a popular belief that if you love your motherland, you have to live in Manipur. Otherwise, you have no right even to talk about the land. But it is such a pity; some of the explanations are given here.
And if we go by the prevailing social mess and gun culture, those believers might even hurl a grenade in our courtyard, or shoot us if we ever deny it. It is such a tragedy. The milieu is so gloomy you hardly see anything beyond what is good for you; and you can see only what is right in front of you.
Like many half-baked ideas that our leaders have put forward, we are so full of stupidities. Like myself, I consider doing heroin is the best way to go high; while some people think we can celebrate Diwali with improvised explosive devices—as if we are playing some serious roles in a farce. Then it is no surprise how we can even say everybody has to live in Manipur to show the love for the land.
The Plight of the Patriots
So I decided to check the conditions of motherland lovers who live every moment, who breathes nothing but every atom of Manipuri air, all the days and all the months in our hometown.
The other day I talked to H—— one of my close friends. He told me life has been a rollercoaster ride. That I consider, life has been a journey distracted as much as the roads are punctuated with potholed roads and guided by directionless highways. I cannot help but took in mere implications rather than his words that were as bland as the ennui that marks a life in this tragic corner of the world.
It is no different from my nonchalant thoughts for the motherland. I would rather say we had evolved, howsoever insignificantly, in a fatherland. What good is it, anyway, when we can live elsewhere and indulge in the comforts and pleasantries that modern life provides in other parts of the world? On the other hand, the elected representatives illustrate the perfect example of people living in their homes, doing all the works that accentuate our standards of living—while simultaneously waxing poetry to our existence and the love of motherland. Bite us.
Truth be told, I have little concern for the motherland, save the desperation to live in my home, in an ideal place identified by peace, equality and justice. Perhaps this is why I can see the argument of the natives with an open mind—so open it is almost falling off! I love the natural beauty that floods the hills and the valley of this province. I love some of the folks out there. The places are full of memories and nostalgic vibes. These are the only connecting points, for pity’s sake. But people fuck it up beyond any recognition in such a way to redefine the essence of FUBAR entirely.
Smart Technology, Dumbass People
These self-righteous folks who are making a clarion call for Homecoming would have been right a century ago. Funny it is, but yes, they could have been right. A part of the world was seemingly unto us, then, and the other half to some of them. There was nothing in-between. However, the bullock carts and horse rides are, for kind information, a thing of the past.
Now the world has compacted beyond our comprehension. Now we live in a world of information, communication and technology (ICT). In another word, the outcasts who have fled the gory situation can contribute in so many other ways. If that is not enough, we live in a globalised world where it is quicker to send a courier to any corner of the world than the time we usually spend at a loo.
To paraphrase a statement from Global Envision, ICT has ‘facilitated efficiency gains in all sectors of the economy’. It ‘provides the communication network that facilitates the expansion of products, ideas, and resources among nations and among people regardless of geographic location’. ICT ‘creates efficient and effective channels to exchange information’. Precisely, ‘it has been the catalyst for global integration’.
In terms of the physical size, the possibilities are limitless for a place with a population of nearly 2.7 million. Commerce is just an example. We can adopt it in every aspect of our collective life. And we can broaden our perspectives together when people, the ‘originals’ as well as from other comparatively better places or from any place but our home for that matter, are willing to contribute. But the fact is that we have adopted crab mentality as our second nature.
If we put it squarely, the natives ought to be doing much more if we go by their moronism. If they are supposed to be the only right people at the right place at the right time, how come we have been living in such a pathetic place, particularly, in this 21st century with a proud, recorded history of 2,000 years?
We should rather say something beyond the obvious. And it is amazing that even university professors have this kind of idea that we have to be in the hell to understand the hell. Isn’t it doubtful they would ever contribute something worthy that we can be proud of, is it?
Their skepticism makes sense if we consider that electricity is still a luxury in this region. Yes it is. It makes sense if we look back and see that a highway blockade can fuck our collective life so badly. It makes sense if we choose a few pegs of free hooch over electing the right masters. It makes sense if we can remain silent about mass military deployment, even inside universities, for ridiculous security reasons. It makes sense if we are ready to give a million and half bucks to get a lowly police job. Yes, it makes complete sense why they always cry that we have to live in Manipur if we want to talk about this place no different from a shithole.
The pictures, except the map, were downloaded from the Facebook page of the Anonymous ART of Revolution.