The drums started rolling
The light flashed into our exploited yellow skin
Our t-shirts with his face
Were not noticed anymore as expected
I saw the MP posing, sitting in his Nehru collar shirt
Guarding his daughters as if we were rapists like Indian Army
Who he feeds, who he let us raped
Who he is so scared about for the all mustache.
He didn’t let the daughters read what I have in my hands
And I know politicians like him has got the worst descendant
Despite all the money he saves in his fucking pocket.
He held my arms and said I was cool
For not getting angry with his words
But I surely got angry and I knew
How would I react to his shallow thoughts
And to an old shallow chauvinist like him.
I screamed back in the empty air
“How in world you belong to Manipur,
How in world you ask me about my career
When you allow to have Army Camp
Inside our only university
How in world your little shitty speech gonna bring change”
We all know once you start wearing that Khadi Kurta
Go back and run from Ukhrul to Churchandpur
You will know how you have been representing our lives
Or sit next to the Poet.
And stop contributing 5000 bucks for five years
In which you will lavishly admire
the peaceful sites of Parliament street
Stop contributing 5000 bucks for every event the student organize
One thousand for each year for you to sit calm and preach absurdity.