Showing posts from September, 2015

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of a problem child

i got zing with a sting to think about aging
mother, please break open my  head
you will see three donkeys standing in there

i cannot deal with people
they say one thing & do another
& father, worry not how i go around these ways

it makes me good, going around, doing the stuffs
i have no expectation & that makes me lesser crazy
i can also tell apart all the bad things that might happen to me too

like i’m negative—i can’t bribe the government to shut schools
that’s the privilege of responsible adults only
but you can pay me so that i finish my last month’s homework

let me be as aloof as the moon
it’s okay: my plan is to be a star
with no talent tho’, i aim to be the star of fart

i want to start, be the lead of my story—
get me out from these cameo roles of others’ tales
—in implicit & unconscious ways, like old & wise folks preach

i’m tired of home; i want to go to noney or moreh
i want to buy the chinese xbox–ps4 hybrid
do expect my demand letter in an hour or two

if you want me back, …

86 Wacky Ways to Say ‘Strange’

graphic, design, vocabulary, word, play, minimalism

Play Fair

Design notes:
In my hometown there are too highly acclaimed thespians: Ratan Thiyam (1948–) and Heisnam Kanhailal (1941–). The former is more popular for obvious reasons: his ideals are shaped by a pan-India approach and highly influenced by narratives and trends prevalent in mainland parts of the country. He was born in Nabadwip in West Bengal to a Manipuri family. Sample some of his plays: Chakravyuha, Andha Yug, Uttar Priyadarshi, Karanabharam and Ritusamharam.

Both of them are politically engaged, doubtlessly, but their approaches belong to the earlier generations. In fact, Kanhailal (Draupadi, Kabuui-Keioiba, Karna, Laigi Machasinga, Memoirs of Africa, Migi Sharang, Pebet and Tamnalai) is so rooted, with his focus on native folklores and folktales that he is lesser popular than Thiyam—albeit nobody dare questions their philosophies about this art form. Kanhailal’s plays have purer titles in our native language, Meeteilon, but he is the founder of Kalakshetra Manipur. The name! 

Of Sit-in Protests

I can see the thousands of people
Divided into groups of twenty to fifty,
Men, women and children
Workers, actors and more kids in school uniform
Politicians, pensioners, activists and professionals
Bomb-scared folks and terrorised masses
Looted individuals and loafers and loungers,
One and all, in mourning dresses
In each corner of the street and the commons.
The roads are landmarked with tragic stories
Of murders and kidnaps
Of threats and useless government,
Each sit-in protest tells tales
Of murders, kidnaps, threats and misery.

Bananas and dried coconuts and apples weep for humanity
The squeezed bananas on the mud dish reek of bad memories,
The unopened coconut add more nightmares
The rotten apples only multiply the tragedies
Of cursed lives and equally cursed people,
The layer of uncooked rice below, cushions
More impending cursed lives and people
It seems so, in each gathering at first glance
Toona leaves adorn the mud pot like it will help
Like in how the priests would de…

Eternal Lovebirds

Design notes:
Star-crossed lovers from classic literature, folklore/folktales, myths, paintings, films and popular cultures from across the worldThirty-five pairs of couples who took PDA to a new high. Everybody knows about them, what they were up to and how their emotions and sentiments for each other destroy their lives.   The most common words across the world are Ma and Pa or the variants of these two terms. Globally, another similarity is in the stories of lovers, who in the most tragic ways, lost their lives, sacrificed everything, stayed apart not for hostility but for the sake of love and so on. I could not find any African story, except for the unconfirmed Kintu and Nambi, the Ugandan tale. Other missing continents include Australia and South America. I believe Africa and South America must have more stories of this sort. For Australia, Foster’s beer and kangaroos don’t make a good love story and they seem to have left all the stories to their European siblings.

India and I (in Two Parts)

A recollection on nationalism and how we pass off our connection to a nation as mere political inevitability but simultaneously realising it is a part of the whole game that we have been mistaking as a way of life


How much do a mainland Indian—and it certainly means not the military personnel and omniscient social scientists—understands the geopolitical entity known as the Northeast? Here’s a hint: It is inversely proportional to the alienation of the people in the periphery. All along though, many natives have been leaving no stone unturned to be accepted as an equal citizen of the nation. The sense of alienation as well as discrimination is so profound that we have overlooked so many things that we share with the mainland. Apparently, nationalists and patriots have been working as hard as the conformist-natives on acceptance to build a nation and they are succeeding; well, good for them.
Our collective life is comparative to the growth or failure of the Indian nation. We love …


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