Histories are written for books.
Khongnagthaba has rested
forever under the Khongnang Pambi
Smoking bidi and chewing kong kwa.
Manipur, stop showing me the 12 naked mothers
The Kangla Gate has been re-opened
Your kingdom is in your hand
don't tell me what i can do
Manipur, Stop spanking me,
My buttocks are as red
as that of a Japanese infant
it will make me bleed my life.
Manipur, stop offering me poetry.
Now i own 215 unpublished poems, enough! it is enough.
the newspaper boy delivers poetry,
wrapped with the news,
All i do is to unfold them.
the mothers in ema-keithel sell poetry
like oranges, apples and bananas,
all i need is to peel them off
Manipur, stop singing your lullaby
I have no intention to sleep on your lap
You have been decorated by death
like the marble slabs
in Ministers' toilets.
I don't want to surrender to be your son.
I believe "death is the end"
Manipur, it is raining human heads
and chopped hands, the sky above you is crying.
it has been raped by your growing mountains
what have you whispered to them?
Manipur, I don't need you to spend a sleepless night
i don't need you for my poems.
Manipur, Stop loving me when you are dying
but don't drag me down, i don't own you.
Manipur, stop looking for your tail
Don't spank me for my pony tail
Don't hit me for my good digestion.
Manipur, you have hills like Kashmir
why don't you cry on Kashmir's shoulder?
but dont bring suicide bombers
here it has already been bombed,
why do you get raped so easily?
Manipur, why do you always want to play Holi?
you dont know when is autumn
and when is spring.
My colour-blindness doesn't matter at all
i could smell your colours.
Manipur, stop reminding me
what's the value of such life.
I have seen my kind of lives in the gutters, in the sun;
in the name of peasants, in the name of police
in the name of death, in the name of revolutionaries.
Manipur, Are you testing
our human kinds can be a sample or not?
Are you asking for an exodus?
are you asking for a movement, a mass movement?
or are you crucifying yourself ?
Manipur, why are your poets obsessed with Africa?
Manipur, don't spank me any more
I disown you, you disown me.