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
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