Diaper and it Culture

Now you have grown strong
You even know how to get stoned.
Your hands can grab your dreams
To your love, your words are chocolate cream

You have not remembered yet
How you were wrapped by the grey fanek
In those misty winter mornings
Yes! She pleased you and your siblings

Now you say you can’t hold or touch a fanek
“Our culture is what our women wear,” you say yet
But every night you wear the culture of your loud mouth
And she sheds her tear suffocating in your breath

Yes! Your diapers were your father’s old feijom
The plays you watched were of War in Khongjom
The tunes you hummed were of great Meitei heroes
But the meal you eat are cooked by the betrayed sorrows

Your daddy once kicked at the womb
Today you kick the same womb
Every time you say a word you use ‘cunt’
Just to energize your friends and for fun

But when you die in their beatings and killings
You will cry out your mother’s name
And without any shame, you will lose your fame
In a fraction of a second

Yes! After your own death
You will worry about vultures
You will stop worrying about fanek and culture
You will die without culture

You will be cremated without culture
You will be forgotten without culture
Because you are not the first kind of such Meitei Nongsha
Hundreds of you have died and are born and born and born