The Land I Once Knew

The land once familiar to me,

The roads I've walked,

The fields I've surveyed,

The trees I've climbed,

The hills I’ve hiked,

Were no longer familiar to me.

I failed to remember when

The land is coarse and dusty

The fields are barren and dry

The trees are old and creepy

Or that I am but a stranger!

Perhaps we've parted our way

One early morning, long ago

When I left the land,

In search of a dream,

Only to return a decade later, or so.

The land had been my dream,

In the day, and in the night,

And I promised myself

That I’ll return one day, soon

To live with the land.

But later in a sleepy slow

And the tricks of the sadist memories,

Little by little, the dreams began to change

And get buried away, deep

The land, with other memories!

A decade later that dream resurfaced

About a land that I once knew,

It tugged my heart,

And it tugged my soul,

Until one late hour in the setting sun,

When I finally kissed its feet.

But alas, the land has forgotten me!

I had walked these roads, pleaded I,

I had surveyed these fields, screamed I,

I had climbed these trees, begged I,

I had hiked these hills, cried I,

But an eerie silence was my answer!

So I walked the roads and surveyed the fields,

I climbed the trees and hiked up the hills,

But the missing feeling of belongingness,

Can only gulf the sense of being forgotten.

So I made this promise that one day

The land will never forget me again,

For I'll be one again with the land

Head to toe, bone and skeletons,

Never to part again, one and whole,

deep in the heart, in mother earth!

An Overview of Churachandpur District Census Data 2011

Churachandpur belongs to us, isn't it? Anyway that's where we live, and that's the one place that concerns us mostly. Here is a quick overview of census 2011 for Churachandpur district and a bit of an analysis.

Population Density and Decadal Growth

Here is no big change, smaller district are gaining population which is a rather good sign in the sense that urban migration is not as rampant as supposed to be.

Literacy Rates and Literacy Gap between Male and Female

Here is a reason to celebrate (even though it’s not good enough). The literacy gap between Male and Female continued to be the lowest in our district. Even though we lag behind Imphal West in term of overall literacy rate, it seems our women have better access to education. (But this is also dependant on many factors, like the numbers of illiterate ageing population, statistical outliers, etc). By the way, the national/country gap is 16.68% which means two districts in our state is worst than the country percentage.

Sex Ratio

The country sex ratio is 940, Churachandpur’s is 944. We are a little better off than the country in our discrimination towards the girl child. Overall, in the state we ranked no. 5 which is an improvement from the last census where we ranked no. 7. (I always though we as a Christian will be more welcoming to a girl child than the Hindus in the plain area). But no doubt, our preference and the importance we attached to a male child is undeniable.

But there seems to be a little improvement among the present 0 – 6 years even thought they will not make much of a statistical difference in the next census.

The above table is based only among children belonging to age 6 and below (who are not included in literacy counts). If this is the trend for the future, than the sex ratio of Manipur is done for, however, the comfort is that, the above children will only contribute to the existing rate, and they will not be counted as separate, apart from that, we have a good nine years to correct the wrongs.

Huihui let’s make room for the girls. We are Christian, we are Zomi, we are proud of our women and their achievement, and we love bragging about how independent our women are.  But we are not as good as we thought we are and apparently, we don’t love our women enough!

One Hundred Years of...?

One hundred years of Christianity
One hundred years of Civilization
One hundred years of Modernity
One hundred years of Celebration

• celebrating Christ in our life, each day and everyday
• celebrating the love, peace and harmony it brought to us

The last line is a bit awkward, but there is no denying that we, the Zomi, have come a long way within just a century...

• from jungle dweller to urban crawler
• from head hunter to money hunter

There are hundreds of parameters to measure the speed of our transformation...and i guess, if we could measure in term of "kph", it must be faster than one of those F-1 cars, leaving trials of stories

• of miraculous transformation and structural destruction
• of churches, schools and rehab center
• for good and for worst

One hundred years is a relatively short period for a community to complete its transition and long enough for the future to take its roots. Are we satisfied with what we have seen so far, and what are the hits and misses?

If we could put away our differences to celebrate this occasion, we could also come together for our future's sake. It's time to reflect, analyse and assess our situation.

May God bless you all!

Centenary Greeting!

tags: zo, zomi, zogam, lamka

No Hope

Walk around the state of Manipur, you would find many young men –educated and uneducated; some may even belongs to an insurgent group and some could be a wrecked-out daily labourer; some walk with big dreams and empty pocket, and some are aimless wanderers. They all may speak different dialect; they may come from different background, tribes and upbringing. But one thing they have in common is that they don't know the roles, functions and duties of the Government towards them.

Go and ask them what they want the Government to do for them; most probably they won’t know how to answer, or what to say at all. But ask them about their lives, their families, and their backgrounds, you would most probably find hundred things that the Government can do for them.

Go and ask the old woman what sort of help she got from the Government, she would say nothing. Ask her what she wants from the Government; she would most probably have no idea. Ask her if she knew any welfare scheme for an old and poor woman like her, she won’t have a clue. Think of the amount the central and state governments have spent on all those welfare schemes.

Go and ask one young insurgent why he chose to be what he is, his answer, most probably would be he had nothing else to do at home. Then, ask yourself 'why' he had nothing at all to do at home and think of 'what' he can do and 'why' he can’t do what you think he can do, then, you will know who failed them.

For a lot of wronged youths, joining one or the other insurgent groups has become the sole viable option to vent their discontentment, and demand redressal because they feel they are being denied a fair treatment. They may never knew in which way they are being wronged, but at least they know how to compare their situation with youth their age of other states or countries, and they could clearly see the differences. They may never be able to tell you eloquently what they are deprived of, but you don’t need to be a social scientist to know what they are deprived of.

Their feelings of discontentment and humiliation make them become an easy fodder for insurgent group who had been waiting for this opportunity. It’s high time the government wake-up and perform the duties of a government.

It may be difficult to bring awareness to people who had resigned to their fate, and waking up a government that pretend to be as deaf as a statue and as mute as the Chief Minister himself. But then it has to be done, in one way or the other.

tags: zo, zomi, zogam, lamka

WILL SOMEONE APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR '97?

Recently I read about a series of significant historical apology made by leaders for something that was done many years ago like the Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s apology to the Aborigines for inflicting grief, suffering and loss that happened more than half a century ago. And, that get me to thinking if I can ever expect anyone at all to apologize to me for what happened in ’97, and for its aftermath, the consequences and scars it left on my life?

They said that an apology is the first-step towards starting any kind of healing process. And for sure, even after a decade, I’m still nursing those consequences. Every time I cursed my lot, I can trace its root to ’97 –for throwing me out of school and out of my normal routine of life; for taking away my home and friends, for filling my childhood memories with horrible images and thus, stealing my childhood.

I am not the only one affected. There are more, much more, who were at critical stages of their life at that time, and who, otherwise, have been promised much by life but could not achieve just because of what happened. Those people deserve an apology even much more than me.

First of all let me clear that I’m not referring to us apologizing to them or vice versa (if that is possible it will be superb). But for the time being I’m referring to something like a father to son apology. Some of us may argue if an apology is needed at all, saying that we all had gone through the same situation, or that we were only defending ourselves or that there is no reason for us to apologize since it’s not our fault.

It is true that we needed to protect ourselves particularly at that time and especially in view of the inherent apathy of our state government. But who are we protecting when we started killing people of our own or when we extorted, harassed and exploited the very people that we were/are supposed to be protecting?

It’s very well if you argued that we were left with no choice or option but to strike back. It may sound a bit cliché but there always is choice and options if we want. I am not saying that we could avoid it or the situation could have been handled in a better way, but I am saying that we could have mitigated its impact better especially among the younger generation, and don’t let its effect, especially the psychological aspect, linger on for so long. By the way, they says it takes two to tango, so what did we do, consciously or unconsciously, for them to do what they did?

It is also true that we all went through the same ’97. But no, CAPITAL NO, it was NOT the same situation that we went through in ’97. You and I were at totally different footing at that time and we are not the same either now; our socio-economic status were not the same; our conditions were not the same; our losses were not the same; its impact on the region, village, family and individual were not the same either. In fact, some of us even gained from it, when some of us lost everything… Under no parameter can this be called the same!

You may not want to admit it, but ’97 does have an impact on each one of us, and most likely, in the negative way. You may be trying to see the bright side and counting your blessing or thanking your luck for surviving it but you have to admit that you could have been more than what you are now if not for what happened in ’97.

But the problem is who will apologize. Will our respective community leaders take responsibility and apologize? Well, we all doubt that so much it almost sound funny! So where do we start? You and I can very well apologize to each other, but still, someone, some people, with authority and claim will still owe us an apology. And I am not sure if I would ever hear that in my life time.

I have no claim to represent or have authority to speak for anyone other than me. So I am going to speak for myself and start by saying –

I APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN
’97!

Will you too apologize to me… please?

No Tourist Season For Lamka?

Recently my Boss had to tour the North-East for a series of pre-bid meetings. Imphal was her last-stop and she said she might visit CCPur (Lamka, we call it) if I can suggest something worth seeing there. I sheepishly scratched my head not exactly sure what to suggest.

The holidayer to Manipur that I knew of, come in two seasons. The first batch started as soon as the summer holidays started and ends just before school/college re-opened. They are mostly college students or families with school going kids. The second batch started from early December and ended in January. These winter holidayer are mostly servicemen and women or family without children. These people are not the typical tourist, they are holidaying back home.

To be very honest, I don’t remember ever seeing hordes of well-heeled tourists or back-packers in the street of CCPur. Well, Khuga dam is no Hoover dam, and our patchy hills and mountains are not the Nilgiris. And as for marketing our tribal identity, just remember, we don’t exactly live in the jungle any more and girls in hot-pants do not exactly portray the kind of tribal image people may expect. Even today, the few ‘strange face’ that are occasionally seen in our street are there only on the invitation of our churches or are there to visits or inspect one of our many rehab centres.

Well, Gamnuam Home, Shalom Rehab, etc. are not the type of tourist attractants we want. But, for a starter we can develop a botanical garden which will not only attract tourist but also preserve our much folk-lored but evidently endangered orchids. We can also develop a dedicated market for out tribal handicraft from cane, bamboos works to our various colorful shawls, etc. And to develop that, we don’t even need the government; we can use the people participatory approach involving the communities in the process through the NREGS. All we need is someone or an institution to lead and do all the planning.

CCPur seems to scarce rather than attract tourist, and we have to change that. We may not have much to offer that will compel visitors to stay the night, but we can at least develop something that will make CCPur a ‘must-stop’ for every visitor to Manipur.

tags: zo, zomi, zogam, lamka

My Christmas Wish: Change

American President Elect Barrack Obama has inspired people the world over to believe in his campaign anthem of Change. The recent Mumbai Attack roused the people of India asking for change in the administration set-up and heads have started rolling. Now to my point; can we too, in Manipur, believe in that change?

Now to be honest, most of us don’t believe Manipur can actually change, and for change to happen, we need to believe in. But this Christmas, against all odds, I’ll be praying for a little change, a tiny little change as a gift. And, that tiny little change I’ll be asking as a gift will be –taking responsibility.

Taking responsibility –not for the failure of the state, the system, or as such, but towards our own job, and that’s not too much to ask. If each one of us do our job –the job for which the government paid us, it’s not much of a change, but the end result will be a big change.

The first step towards change is for us to realize and hold ourselves responsible for what and where we are in now. But as I said earlier, you have been paid and you lived on that salary, so why not simply do the works that you are suppose to do. No one expect you to go the extra mile even though we would appreciate if there’s any one dedicated enough for that.

Teachers to teach students in the school where they are posted, doctors/nurses to nurse patients in the hospital/PHC where they are posted, electrician, postmen, etc, should all do the work that they are paid for –that’s all I asked.

When old age pension actually benefit the old, when mid-day meals are actually a meal, when all government welfare funds are utilized for the real target; that will be the day when my little Christmas wish will be fulfilled.

How difficult that could be, and that even got nothing to do with change. But that’s the change I’m asking for, and hopefully each one of us is inspired enough. And this Christmas, let’s introspect on the bigger change, the change that inspired people all over the world, and realize that we too are part of the world and we too can change.

Ah, Just to Get Some Attention..!

Looking around our so-called Zogam (rather rough, isn’t it), it is simply evident that we caught ourselves in an isolated island where the theory of evolution fit us to the hilt. ‘Survival of the fittest’ is the war cry, and naturally, while the poor risked their head and tooth in digging out wild roots, fruits and leaves for their daily survival, the richer and fitter class come, straight facedly cheated and shamelessly snatched them away.

Even though every square metre of our land is infested with Churches, the absence of morality and ethics seems to make them nothing but a fraud, and indeed, they are. It seems like we have a chronic diseases that will never heal again. The people, who needed the prescription didn’t realize that they really are sick, and even those who realize their sickness, are helpless without any help insight. On the other hand, those who are capable of making a prescription are too busy chasing scholarship money, or prefer to live outside, lest they will be infected as well.

So, hey how about a blind man leading another blind man? The only thing is, we just have to trust each other, hold our hands and be ready to fall down the drain, in case we fall down the drain. Here are a few suggestions from a blind man for the blind men on how to overcome the vicious circle of trouble that we caught ourselves in.

• Insurgency is often cited by the government as an alibi for not doing any developmental work, but isn’t it rather the outcome of it. Well, till now we flocked towards the government since it pay us more than the insurgent groups, why don’t we threaten the government that we will flock towards and give full moral and physical support to the insurgents, don’t you think that will at least force them to take a little notice provided we beat the drums loud enough to reach the mainland media?

• Give a toy gun to everyone, from grandmother to granddaughter and take picture of ourselves and put them up in youtube, blogspot, wordpress, facebook, orkut, myspace, flickr, etc like it is the actual ground situation and try to get some international attention.

• Apparently the butch of women protesting naked in front of the Kangla Fort had stirred worldwide attention, why don’t we think more on that front to get some ‘official attention’ (of course, to our situation, Idiot!). (The men can also do, there are quite a number of influential gay men especially in the west).

• Some of us in Delhi can get arrested while plotting to kidnap the Prime Minister (or better still, Sonia Gandhi) and said desperation forced us to do this, i.e. to get national media attention.

• Why don’t we all go back to the jungle, i.e. to the wild with lion cloths and no sign of settlement? We will at least catch the attention of some anthropologist and well, environment conservators as well as social activist.

• Talking of conservators, why don’t we all become green i.e. vegetarian and environmentally friendly, etc., and write to all the major newspaper of the world crusading as if we were Chief Seathl’s children, and we can ask the PETA and the Green Peace to adopt us.

• In the other extreme, we can shout to the world that we eat Dog’s Meat –at least we will get the attention of the PETA and Bridgette Bardot.

• The most practical one, and seriously, is to join the Marxist. Marxist have the best grass-root level organization, and gosh, since we won’t be able to climb to the leadership level or as they said, the politburo level, it might just suit us fine. And with the excuse of capitalism, we can lynch all those corrupt officials getting damned rich with bribe money, and the best part, we will have the like of the Karats and Yechurys standing up on our behalf in the Parliament and justifying all our actions.

• Talking of bribe, why don’t we do more of what we have been doing all this year to get us into the World's Most Corrupt State? After facing so many hardships because of this, it’s disappointing to still not make it to the list! Come on guys, this is our speciality!

• Let’s do ’97 again… Oh! No-no-no not again! Sorry I started this… My Sincere Apologies… (Even thought the attentions Darfur get and the Celebrities involved in are something… Blah! Never Again. Sorry, my Sincere Apologies –once again…).

Okay, now I said ‘blind man leading another blind man’, so if you are offended by what I wrote, which is not intended at all, I want you to know that you’re not blind –and that you are reading something that isn’t for you. Anyway, thanks for reading…

No Pun Intended!
No Harm Intended!
No Offence Intended!

LIVING IN THE EDGE: IN THE VALLEY OF FEAR

My innocent little friend asked me why most of the insurgent groups in the north-east describe themselves as revolutionary or liberation army. It stupefied me; it’s just too complicated and confusing to even describe. For me, they are revolutionary or liberating only in their efforts of letting animals hold guns to kill humans.

‘97 and the following chaos had taught me not to be too outspoken about any issues related to such groups, but my inability to forget their misconducts, apart from stealing away my childhood, hardly changed my views towards them. Apart from that their very presences bring fears and chaos in the society, and demands (though shaken) some reproach.

I first heard of the ZRA, KNF, KNA, etc. when troubles brewed in ’97, and as a Zomi, I have to thank the ZRA for saving my butt, and well, my head. I would earnestly bow my head in respect for what they did during that time, but I resented, as a Zomi, the ZRA of post-2000. The simple reason is, they look like the underworld (mafia) –working only for the vested-interests and pockets of their supreme bosses. The same apply to all of the outfits in Manipur.

The very foundation of their organization, I suppose, is to provide securities and fight for the causes of the communities, but most of the time, they are the source of communal discords, many other excesses and the trouble maker. Ask anyone in the streets, I’m pretty sure they will express the same sentiments.

Ignoring the brutalities and human right violations, the total ineffectiveness of the ‘never-the-first-choice’ Indian security forces gives us no choice but to embrace the ‘Z’, the ‘K’ or the ‘Etc.’ as our respective guardian. So there is no point in raising the questions of our security under them or their worth as our guardian, but I want to ask if they have any respect for us or are we their mere subjects liable to their wishes.

It is pretty high time that we, the common folks as well as the outfits, evaluate our situation and position within our respective communities. Do we, the common people, still need them or do they have served their purposes? Is their vision realistic, what steps they had taken in that direction and do we support that vision? While on the other hand, the outfits need to honestly assess, above everything, their standing and worth in their respective communities’ lives.

As a common folks, for me the main question is –can we do without them? Ask me if I am afraid of them; yes I am. I fear them as much as I feared a mad cow. Do I hate their presence; of course I do, they are loaded guns. But do I wish them away; only if all of them can be wished away in one go. If not, past experiences will force me not to, for those outfits are the one that can keep the other outfits at bay, and I still want my chance to fight for another tomorrow.

I’m not a critic of them, but rather, considering the role they played in our community, I want them to reform and organize in a better way, and keep their goal in their mind. I don’t want to be identified by the violence that they practice, like the Muslims are identified with fundamentalism and jihadi.

If those outfits are serious about the cause they are fighting for, let them fight like a gentleman, holding their heads high, with pride and dignity –not like the gangsters, who stole in the middle of the night or the mobsters who get their way by threatening and frightening everyone.

With all those outfits around, life for the common man is like living in the edge. You can’t expect everybody to know how to balance and counter-balance issues; which are a necessity for our daily survival as you are not given many priorities. It is like juggling 3 knives –pay too much attention to one and the other will hit you in the head, pay too much attention to the going-on around you and you will go crazy, but if you don’t pay attention, it may cost you your life.

There is no middle path here, silence may help but it is not always the answer. But then, talking doesn’t help much either, especially in this part of the world where everyone with a little authority, starting from the Chief Minister, are as deaf as a statue. Apart from that, be it talking or writing, they expect you not to cross a certain limit, or your warning may come in the form of death.

I don’t find any appropriate word to describe the situation we live in. Express your feeling and you’re forced to remain silent, remain silent and nobody will care about you. Cry for help, but there’s no one to hear you, definitely not the government, neither will the outfits. Apparently the government and the outfits don’t give a damn about you. Apparently the government and the outfits don’t know that forced silence is a horrifying torment, and an unattended cry for help is the superlative of all brutality.

The unresponsive government and the reckless militants pushed us all to the edge; suppressed anger, desperation and helplessness forced us to be more aggressive, more brutal or to totally give-up on everything. Our daily life is a struggle for survival, being cheated of even the most basic of facilities supposed to be provided free of cost by the government, the common folks are left at the mercy of our merciless shylocks to be fleeced to their bones.

But we are survivors, we have survived thus far, and our survivor instincts are strong. I only hope those militants apprehend and appreciate our daily struggle. God helps us all…

Long Live The Zomi! Happy Zo Minam Day!

Tags: mizo, zomi, zogam

Manipur: A Dead End..?

Walk around the state of Manipur, you would find many young men –educated and uneducated; some may even belong to an insurgent group and some could be a drenched-out daily labourer; some walk with big dreams and some aimless wanderers. They all may speak different dialect; they may come from different background, tribes and upbringing. But one thing they have in common is that they accepted the government for what it is –a non functioning government.

Go and ask them what they want the Government to do for them; most probably they won’t know how to answer, or what to say at all. But ask them about their lives, their families, and their backgrounds, you would most probably find hundred things that the Government can do for them.

Go and ask the old woman what sort of help she got from the Government, she would say nothing. Ask her what she wants from the Government; she would most probably have no idea. Ask her if she knew any welfare schemes for an old and poor woman like her, she won’t have a clue. Think of the amount the central and state governments have spent on all those welfare schemes.

Go and ask one young terrorist why he chose to be a terrorist, his answer, most probably would be he had nothing else to do at home. Then, ask yourself why he had nothing at all to do at home and think of what he can do and why he can’t do what you think he can do, then, you will know who failed them.

For a lot of wronged youths, becoming a terrorist has become the sole viable option to vent their discontentment, and demand redressal because they feel they are being denied a fair treatment. They never knew in which way they are wronged, but at least they know how to compare their situation with youth their age of other states or countries, and they could clearly see the difference. They may never be able to tell you eloquently what they are deprived of, but you don’t need to be a social scientist to know what they are deprived of.

Their feelings of discontentment and humiliation make them become an easy cannon fodder for insurgent group who had been waiting for this opportunity. It’s high time the government took steps to address the grievance of the people.

It may be difficult to bring awareness to people who had resigned to their fate, and waking up a government that pretend to be a deaf as a statue and as mute as the Chief Minister himself. But then it has to be done, in some way or the other.

A Birdeye View of Khuga Dam

Khuga Dam: A Curse or Blessing?

How many people must have it replaced

and how many of them are suitably rehabilated?
How many hectares of land have it rendered

useless or submerged

and how many hectares does it irrigate?
How many sources of livelihood had it affected

or provided as compensation?
What are its possible worst case scenarios?
Is not it a time bomb within the heartland of Zogam?
And, why, in the heartland of Zogam

–Is not it in a scheduled area?

Tags: mizo, zomi, zogam

Is my Facial Feature a Curse?

(Sometimes, the unlikeliest situation forced on you the hard reality that is also called ‘discrimination based on facial feature’ and you are given no option but to gulp it down)

I feel guilty to call myself an art-lover as I know pretty well that I know nothing about art. But whenever I do have time, I love visiting old buildings, museums and heritage sites to amuse myself with the intricate stone carving, architecture, and painting and absorb myself in what the builder, craver or painter want to convey through his/her art.

Even thought I am a Christian, I never hesitated to visit temples or mosques as long as I have someone to explain to me the painting, craving, belief and other customs and traditions associated with it. In fact, I have been to quite a number of temples like Chinpurni, Jwala Devi and Naina Devi in Himachal Pradesh, Anandpur in Punjab, Akshardham and Birla mandir in Delhi, Kali Mandir in Tripura and many small and less famous temples whenever and wherever I have the pleasure of staying.

My boss knows me pretty well so she was not really surprised when I became the most excited one when she proposed one afternoon to visit the famous Lingaraj temple in Bhubaneswar. Lingaraj temple is over a thousand year old with a unique architecture style and intricate stone craving, so it was a ready temptation for me. Apart from that we have been in Bhubaneswar for over two months and we hardly get the time to go around sight-seeing or take time off from work, so we all saw this as a good proposition to get away from the damp work place that we have imprisoned ourselves for the whole two month.

We left the office early and went straight to the temple. The moment we landed up near the entrance, priests (panda?) started following us around hoping us to make some offering. We were told to take off all leather stuffs with us like belt, watch, wallet and mobile phone and leave them inside the vehicle.

Once we get to the entrance, my colleagues and the driver went straight but as I was to enter, two policemen and three priests come up to stop me. They surrounded me and started asking me my name, my native place, and of course, my religion. I don’t understand a single word that was rapidly fired at me in oriya. I looked around for some help from my colleague or my boss and it was then that I saw something written near the gate in English –Only Hindus Allowed.

I heard my boss’ voice coming out from among the crowd telling all those people that I was a Hindu from Manipur. My boss was someone who will always get her way no matter what, but she was helpless here as more and more policemen, priests and crowds started gathering around us and her voice was lost in the mayhem. I withdrew myself and told my boss to go inside and enjoy her time.

I stand under the tree across the gate and watched at the crowd who watched me. I feel like a stray dog that people find it not fit to be admitted inside the house. I understand that they have rules to follow, but what I don’t understand is if religion is written in the face or if that rule is based on someone facial feature since I know pretty well that the driver (an oriya) is also a Christian but was allowed to enter inside without even a single glance.

I felt hurt, I feel pained, and discriminated. At the same time, I feel elated; I feel like a martyred missionary while my ego groaned in pain. I want to stomp in, I want to stomp out, and tell them that their idols disgusted me and the place is way too low for me. All those painting and carving that I adored so much before seems disgusting and ugly now. The situation forced me to fully comprehend what a little discrimination can do to someone.

I can very much do without seeing the temple; it has no religious attraction for me like my colleague. But I cannot believe that I was not allowed inside a place where even beggars can hold their head in pride just because of my facial feature. It would had been another story had the Driver been not allowed or at least being asked the simple question, but I was selected out. My boss had given me a Hindu name, telling them that I was from Manipur, I talked to them in Hindi, but I was still not allowed.

When I returned back to the hotel, the first thing I do was fish out the crucifix that my Mom gave it to me a longtime ago. I kept that in one of the side pocket of my trolley and never bothered about it. That night, when I put the crucifix around my neck and let it hang above my shirt when we went for dinner, never in my life do I felt so proud of my religion like that before.

Update:

A week later, we went to Puri inside the famous Jaganath Temple Complex. This time round, my Boss hired a Panda (Priest) as a tour guide. No one bothered me as we walked past the long queue without a single question being asked. In fact, I even take along my Camera Phone and the Crucifix, but I did not take them out of my pocket as a mark of respect.

The place hold nothing special for me, but the simple fact that I managed to enter this temple after what happen the previous week give me a big sense of relief and satisfaction, a satisfaction that someone only in my situation know.

Tags: mizo, zomi, zogam