To be home across the Great Divide : PurnaChandra Sharma

? By: Purnachandra Sharma The day is drawing to an end. Two little girls, hand in hand, are prancing and frolicking. Their pigtails dancing in the air. And cheerful giggles… Read more »

?

By: Purnachandra Sharma

The day is drawing to an end. Two little girls, hand in hand, are prancing and frolicking. Their pigtails dancing in the air. And cheerful giggles ringing around. Oblivious to worldly woes. Obliviously to what this day has in store for them.

 

Two little tender souls, down the lane from school, are walking home. It’s the same lane. It’s the same time of the day. More or less, the world seems the same. Knowing what we know now, how one wishes that it was neither more nor less. Had it been so, they’d be home now. Alas, today, their way home will be cut short.

 

Would one be so heinous as to put an end to their untarnished happy lives? They do not ask for worldly riches or worldly fame and certainly not our worldly strives. It’s the little joys that make them happy. On a rainy day, you can see them jumping into puddles. But you and I wouldn’t. Not with intent and glee. Our “worldly wisdom” has long hardened us from such silliness. But then you can ask: Has it made us any happier than these two little girls? Would we trade our “worldly wisdom” for their happiness? Perhaps, yes. But no, not on this day. Not when tragedy awaits.

    Without warning, with a fiendish clash, life yields to death. The way home and their tender lives are cut short. Was this predestined? Was this because they chose to go to school today? Here arises the age-old inconclusive argument of Free Will and Predestination. That they aren’t coming home today can hardly be on account of their own Free Will. That’d be absurd. After all, amongst other things, they wouldn’t want to keep their mothers waiting forever, would they? Was it predestined then? Be that as it may, this day, for all practical purposes, it can be said it’s Free Will. For unbeknownst to them, by Free Will, a total stranger had decided to settle disagreements with his foes by violent means. These two innocent souls didn’t have anything to do, by any stretch of imagination, with such a quarrel so heartless as to take lives. Intended or inadvertent – it does not matter. The cruel fact of the matter is that what the perpetrator chose has put an end to their blossoming lives. If only, by Free Will, he and his accomplices had decided otherwise!

 

Having done what shouldn’t be done, it is only natural to ask: How can they be at peace with themselves? How can they sleep at night? I say the question is irrelevant. Irrelevant since it makes an implicit presumption that they have the humane need for sleep and peace of mind like the two little girls whose lives have been robbed. That does not apply to the perpetrators, for they have long parted with humane feelings amply proven by the very fact that they do not have the slightest regard for life leave aside lives that have done them no wrong whatsoever. Not even for two tender souls that can’t ever say an unkind word to them. But they won’t know that now.

 

Nonetheless, I wonder what would be answer of these two innocent souls if they were asked that this day they will not reach home – not ever because of what a stranger has undertaken. The argument that it wasn’t done deliberately is of no consequence. It is the consequences, foreseen or not, of his deliberated decision for violence, that matters. Where are the two girls to answer? Where are they to fend for themselves?

    Brooding what could have been will not help now. Two mothers will not find peace again. Far from it, this accursed day brings endless grief. Their little angels are not coming home. But who’s to tell them. It is said “A mother loves her child more than the father does, because she knows it’s her own, while the father only thinks it’s his.” It is Fate’s cruel irony. Today the love that brought them so much happiness will condemn them to bear the unbearable more than anyone.

 

Two little girls – they should be coming home. But not today. Not tomorrow. Nevermore this side of the Great Divide. And yet two mothers will wait. And wait they must till they sigh their last breaths. Perhaps then they will be at home together again …. across the Great Divide.


In memory of Thokchom Neha, Philaso Awungshi and other victims of the Sangakpham bomb blast on Aug 1 2011 – Rest in Peace and May the Lord keep you

 The above article was sent to Kanglaonline.com by Ringo Pebam {ringo.p[at]gmail.com} on behalf of  Purnachandra Sharma { digitalium99[at]yahoo.com}.

Read more / Original news source: http://kanglaonline.com/2011/08/to-be-home-across-the-great-divide-purnachandra-sharma/

A Bribed Letter to God

By: Sanatombi Angomcha Dear God Alah/Jesus/ Krishna/ Lainingthou (To Whom It May Concern), They call you by different names. They build different homes for you and keep you there. They… Read more »

By: Sanatombi Angomcha

Dear God Alah/Jesus/ Krishna/ Lainingthou (To Whom It May Concern),

They call you by different names. They build different homes for you and keep you there. They even have different hymns to offer you. They dress you up in their own styles (not yours). They even half-undress you when they desire to do so (as in the case of the Hindu God Shiv Mahadev). They offer you fruits, candles, incense sticks and even money. Some of them even offer you cooked or baked sweets and snacks. Do you relish them all? Can you really see or smell the candles being lighted up or the burning incense sticks, can you also listen or interpret those hymns, prayers or mantras.

In your name, they abhor and even kill one another. Do you provide them license to kill one another? Don’t you mind when people die? I honestly hate to admit this but I earnestly believe ‘You are being made fun of by none other than those who call themselves your true followers’. I have so far started to believe not to believe what i see, not to hear what i hear, not to know what I know. I even wish my senses stop working. I am pretty pestered by the marathon race of ‘hatred trophy’ that the world is enthusiastically taking part, it’s a long marathon, and many are to be slogged during the race. There won’t be winners or losers either as the race is never going to come to an end. (ew)

Well, I often wish/pray (read it used to), that the world is a better place to reside. I wish to see smokes flaring up from chimney pots that announces the arrival of dusk, and inside the tiny cottages (homes), the ‘moms’ cooking for her family, while the grannies telling tales to her grandchildren while Old John enjoying his cheroot at some corner of the living room, unwinding a relaxed evening like a happy contented man. Oh by the way, from our Manipur’s context, it would be simply an enticing ‘numidangwairam’ during which children return home after playing various games (such as swa, langri taang, u paibi etc) with their friends, and the ‘buboks’ narrating ‘funga waaris to her mashus’. But damn it! None of these happen these days. The world is becoming a threatened place to reside. Yes threatened is the word.Tsk Tsk! it’s a long list wish for me and maybe you will be bored to read them all. After all, you cannot even do anything at your own will right? So, I am shortening it. However, before I finally conclude, let me pass this message to you that ‘You are being fooled by your own children. So, I am bribing you not to trust them anymore through this letter’

Regards,

A confused child

Enhanced by Zemanta

Read more / Original news source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Kanglaonline/~3/rBa0mJ3n_MQ/