02 February 2021

Dark Corner

 THE DARK CORNER

-Roel Hangsing


“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute”. Proverb 31:8

When the train halted, after nightfall, at that station the coach was once again filled with all sorts of filth emanating from the sun-backed human waste on the rail track below. My coach was at the extreme end of the platform. After a minute or so I venture out on the platform to stuff myself with anything labeled as food. The irritating noise of a group of people shouting slogans was heard from the other extreme of the platform. All attentions were drawn to that direction, except a group of people, probably daily wage workers. Under the roof of an unlighted huge shade that looks like an extension of the platform, they were seated on their fouled and stained makeshift beds. They were looking at the much darker corner of the shade that shelters them and I could hear their women folk talking in a high pitched and accented Hindi about the brutality of men in ‘Vardi’ while the men, probably their husbands, repeatedly told them to shut up. This makes me more curious about what they were talking and watching with uninterrupted attention. I listen more attentively in an attempt to figure it out but most of what they said was drowned in the slogans of a group of ungrateful agitating railway workers.

Determined to make sense of what drew their attention to that dark corner, I saw two policemen, one of them forcefully dragging an unwilling figure towards the darker side of the corner from a make-shift bed separately laid far from the rest. The third policeman was shoving, beating, and at times kicking a much smaller and sloppy figure out into the open. They were forcing a small child, who appears to me like a three years old girl, away from the unwilling mother. Though it was dark, I can make out another figure, probably their officer, waiting for the other two to drag in the helpless victim of their lustful designs. Her occasional cries could be overheard faintly but nobody heard her well due to the commotion created by the noisy slogans. While they were forcing them apart, the mother and child desperately hold on to each other. The child, apparently too scared to cry out loud, for a moment manage to cling to her mother but only to be snatched apart.

By now the group of people who were watching them started blaming their ‘Thikadar’ for putting them in such an unholy place, a railway platform but none of them appears bold enough to raise alarm or try helping the hapless mother and child. Judging by their makeshift bed, separated far from the rest, the mother and child must be an outcast or born low caste who somehow tags along with the group they originally belong for mere company or security that they found wanting when needed. The train moves again and I realize I am no different from the people nearby. I could do nothing for those who are forced to the dark corner by criminals and corrupted systems of administrations. In most cases, the society with all its inherent restraints and norms also remains a mute spectator.



<()>


31 July 2019

Lost in Jaisalmer

LOST IN JAISALMER
(Inspired by real events)

My first visit to Rajasthan was in the summer of '86. From the start, it was meant to be a memorable journey. Buses were the only means to travel from Imphal to the nearest railway station, Dimapur. For some reason, the youth and sports department failed to release our travel allowances as promised. We only got a typewritten paper stating the purpose of our visit. We waited till the last minute, but when we're sure no financial support is forthcoming, we decided to travel on our own expenses. My hometown police were kind enough to stop a Dimapur bound truck for us. Initially loaded together in the cargo bed of a truck huffing and puffing along a bumpy zig-zag hilly road was fun. When we finally got down at Dimapur, none of us could walk straight. Like drunkards, we walk to the left but end up to the right, literally. Some of us couldn't even stand up.

For somebody who hailed from the cold and pleasant climate of northeast India, it was not easy to anticipate the heat of a desert. We don't have the luxuries of the Internet, Google, digital camera, Smartphone or air-conditioner. The knowledge I acquired about places were the romanticized versions either from cheap textbooks or secondhand narratives of soldiers on leave. Those days, booksellers in this part of the country don't deal with travel guidebooks. In all my ignorance, I pack a sweater in my luggage - a cumbersome and warm woollen garment. Since I took all the trouble to carry it that far, I tried wearing it while travelling in a state transport bus from Barmer to the heart of the Thar desert. Those days buses don't come with air conditioning. I almost dehydrated myself to death. Didn't somebody say the heat of the desert is the opposite at night?

Even though my Hindi was limited to 'ka-kha-ga' and 'a-aa-ee', the boastful youth in me often made me strayed from the group. Eventually, I lost my way in the busy street of Jaisalmer along with a friend who must be equally stubborn or stupid. We were in a situation where no Hindi means no talking. It felt like the whole Jaisalmer refused to talk to us or don't speak English. We approach a white man dressed in a black sadhu gown. Luckily, in American English, he pointed us back to where our bus was parked. We were quite pleased not because he pointed us back but for the fact that an American understood our northeast manufactured English. It took a foreigner to guide Indians in an Indian city. Ironically, the purpose of my visit was about national integration.

On our way back, we decided to take a tour of the national capital, Delhi. We request a known college student, who is now a senior IFS officer, to take us around. From the railway station, we hired Tongas (a light horse-drawn vehicle commonly used those days) and took a grand tour of the capital city. I was proud and felt complete to have the privilege of touring the capital of my country. On the other hand, it must have been quite an unusual sight to see a bunch of chinkies grinning away with their eyes visibly asleep on Tongas. We attracted the attention of almost every passerby.

In our onward journey to Rajasthan, we briefly halted at New Delhi to catch a Rajasthan bound train. I went to the city in a rickshaw, bought a hotshot camera (a pocket-size analogue camera) with sufficient roll films to cover the whole journey. There was no ATM or internet banking. If you don't have enough cash on you or you are pickpocketed, then you are done. I must have taken too little money or spent beyond my means, I ran short of cash on our return journey home. Though I was too ashamed to admit it, my friends came to know about it. They paid for my food, some generously and others grudgingly. I don't blame them. After all, our mission was national integration.

On reaching home, the first thing I did was get the photos printed. Unfortunately, nothing visible came out from the hotshot camera. The camera, which was probably the reason I ran out of cash, friends had to bail me out, and I am not proud of it till these days yields me nothing. I had bought a non-functional camera at the price of a brand new one.

Somebody had spread the rumour that we were lost and never made it to Rajasthan. Our parents were worried to death. We were only a bunch of class 10 and PUC (the equivalent of class 12) passed or appeared or failed age group with no experience of travelling on our own. I am still looking for that rumour monger.

Note: If you laugh or smile at any point of reading this story, please let me know with a comment or reaction. Your response will make me consider myself an accomplished writer of short comedies. 😁😁

15 July 2019

CONTRADICTIONS

If compasion is within you,
You'd spared innocent souls. 
If relations come from you, 
You'd built one, not destroy. 
If culture is your way of life, 
Your life would be cultured. 
If piety is your preference, 
Flaws won't be your quality. 
If you know that you know, 
You'd know that you don't. 
Yet you place yourself high, 
Above all that ever existed. 
With free will on your side, 
You became a contradiction, 
Of your own, on your own. 
Boastful of your existence, 
A mere embodiment of flaws, 
You ignore His perfectness, 
For perfection reveals flaws. 
Yet His compassion awaits you 
To find your way back Home.   

---------------xxx-----------------

03 December 2018

Wishing You

WISHING YOU 

Before chilly night turns to dawn
Before daylight beckons to chores
Before the heart wanders far away
Before I miss you again and again
May I wish you well once more?
May nights be of sweet dreams
May days be filled with laughter
May your life be of contentment

When the curtain comes down
When the crowd is out of sight
When laughter turns to sadness
When dust is mingled with dust
And they remember you no more
And on the other side, we'll meet
And we shall be together forever

13 May 2018

Love Note

A LOVE NOTE

Sure as dawn follows night
My heart longs to be yours
Make me yours, take my soul
Let me die but in your arms

Sure as sunshine after the storm
My being craves for your love
In comfort or agony, I 'll endure 
Let me die but don't let me go

My Mother

MY MOTHER 

She's gentle and sensitive 
But she seldom gives up.
Through ups and downs 
She's always there for us
Bearing the mother's pain
Of labour and raising kids
Of health or mental stress.
Four brothers who made it 
Tougher as we grow older.
The hope she pines on us 
Were tested umpteen times
Not once did she give up on us.
We aren't the easiest kids
Nor the promising kind
Yet she clings on to the hope
Of her kids doing well finally.
Thank God I have a mother 
A mother I could be proud of
Who refuses to give up.

10 March 2017

Loneliness

LONELINESS

Lonely and shady is the path
Trees lining up as onlookers
Save for the occasional whips
Of breeze swooshing the leaves
Silence escorts me on and on
As the moon plays hide and seek
I asked where the path leads
All I see is tranquillity in motion
If I wake up from this reality
And there’s a beyond reality
Would it still be this lonesome?
Though drowned in doubts
A certainty remains afloat
When You hold and walk with me
In loneliness, in reality or beyond
You will always be my comfort

29 November 2016

Prevail Peace

PREVAIL FOR PEACE

In the woods, no soul dwelled
Where silence is deafening
Footfalls and broken twigs
Hastened the heart and mind
Abides peace I seek elsewhere

Amidst gunshots and wailing
Where noises are deafening
Dawn of peace ever doubtful
Mere survival highly expensive
Sits my home I find nowhere

In deafening noise or silence
Where might seems to be right
Justice be denied or delayed
In fearful whispers or loud cries
Truth 'll prevail for peace to reign

23 June 2016

All for Sale

ALL FOR SALE


What good is relation

Based on ethnic lines

What good is religion 

That divides or hates

What good is society

That kills the weaker

What good is politics

That fools the masses


Men's organs for sale

Mom's womb for hire 

Boys for cheap labour 

Girls given to brothels

Innocent people die

Nobody cares or cries

Are we really doomed 

To be mere materials


Everything is for sale 

Not just Kalashnikovs

The mercenaries too

Self-styled extortionists 

And the vote capturers 

And the bandh callers

Babus are now cheaper

But not the politicians

All for the right price 

In a shop called Manipur

07 May 2015

Stranger at Home

A STRANGER AT HOME

Ten years ago I left home leaving behind everything dear to me. I spent three long years in a city and a life of struggle trying to secure a future for myself. Not a day passed without the hope or anticipated excitement of returning home to everything and everyone I ever cherished and love. When I finally came home with all the excitements held up deep inside for all those years, the home I long to come back was no longer the same. All the sweet memories are now mere memories of good old days. I found myself a stranger at home because "home sweet home" have become "home strange home".

Dark Corner

  THE DARK CORNER -Roel Hangsing “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute”. Proverb 31:8...