I AM ME, THANK YOU

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything anywhere. That’s besides the usual tiresome official reports. I guess in all the frantic pace of life, I have lost touch with someone that should matter the most – I, me and myself. Work does that to me so very often and well, life goes on. So when I got some time this morning to clean up the clutter in my room, I was amazed to see so many books gathering dust, books I’ve bought and had not even got the chance to put them on the shelves, forget about reading them; more than thirty movie dvds I’ve bought and not watched, some still packed in the carry bags and clothes that I’ve not even thrown away the price tags occupying all the space in my jumbled up wardrobe. Seriously, for me, this is a time for a breather, to declutter, retrospect and move on…

For someone who makes acquaintances very easily, friends very rarely and a couple of best friends who’re also geographically thousands of miles away, I’ve failed many a times to keep in touch with my cherished ones although almost all of them keep checking up on my well being and are always there for me, no matter how apart we maybe physically. I usually tender silent thank- you’s to all those who’re constantly a part of me but I know this is not done. I’ve so many dear ones to whom I should pay a visit and a lot more phone calls to make. It is said that people will forget what you said, what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. Someone close to me had once remarked that I’m too lost in my own weird little world, and know what, turns out that he’s absolutely right. And I thank everyone for putting up with my idiosyncrasies…

Days go by but not the memories and I do realize that I own everything about me; my dreams, my hopes, fantasies and fears, my triumphs and successes and I own all my failures and mistakes as well. There are many more things to write, but I’ll do so later and I hope to write more often. For now, I’ve promised to take out an old friend for coffee who’s come over for the hornbill festivals and I really had no time to play host earlier. No matter how busy I am, I should not forget to live the life that still exists anyway…

Ps : Christmas is round the corner and I hope to reach out over the holidays :-)

FOR YOU II

I find you close to me
Cloistered amongst those that repress,
Listening in silence and
Talking without speaking.

Do you know I’ve loved you
Long before you dissolved into
the bellows of the crowd,
And the road that stretched in front of us
did not know where to turn.

The world of the living will forever divide us
But without the warmth of your soul
I cannot remain among them
Nor spend a lifetime in emptiness.

Some realities become dreams
And wither into nothingness.
Yet in the daze of illusion and truth
I find you close to me
Erasing the pain and holding my hand.
For, without you
I may not find my way home.



# pix from my glass painting album

ARE YOU HOME YET ?

(Letter to a Nameless Face)

When I first set my eyes on you, you were standing there looking lost and baffled but still trying to appear sensible. I just gave you a momentary gaze and turned to my book and engrossed myself in reading. And I did not want to let the outside surroundings infringe my personal space with pointless noises.

But then the noises started and slowly built up to a crescendo and suddenly all eyes were on you. And I too joined the crowd. How could I ignore ? You were the only one standing in the train compartment and in case you did not know, it was a shatabdi train where everyone gets in with a valid ticket. The ticket collector was only doing his job and he was right in reprimanding you when you said that you had no ticket and did not know where you were heading to. He was a kind man seeing that he was talking to you with concern and asking you questions which you faltered to answer. He left you behind but I could perceive that he was disturbed by your conduct.

And you were lucky. Did you notice that after the ticket collector left, everyone in the compartment returned to their own activities ? All except for one. And here he’s the Good Samaritan. He was seated next to me and he summoned you when tears started to roll down your lovely rounded cheeks. Had he not cajoled you into revealing your state of mind, you would have just blended into the crowd and, with time, would have faded from everyone’s minds.

A student of seventh standard would be hardly into her teens and you made the gravest mistake by simply hoping into a train, not knowing where to head to, only because your mother beat you up for some reason. Your father may have died some time ago but its not only you who misses him and is angry with the world…you forgot your mother for whom you’re the only companion left…You’re her baby and she has been harsh on you because she loves you. Weren’t these the words spoken to you when the kind old man was trying to make you understand your mistake ? You were dressed in tidy attire with lots of bangles, neatly braided long hair, huge dark eyes and chubby cheeks and anyone could make out that you came from a decent family.

There’s a big bad world out there and a pretty girl like you would have fallen into the eyes of the ravenous and insatiable evil lurking in all the corners. But in your fury nothing came into your mind apart from running away. After he finally coaxed you to go back and saw you off at the nearest station, the kind old man returned to his seat heaving a sigh of relieve. And as the train chugged off, he even strained his neck to catch a glimpse of you from the window with the hope that you’d turn back home. He and I had pooled money for your return journey. That was also his idea, not mine. You had met your guardian angel that evening and I hope one day you would realize…

The kind old man has three grand-daughters similar to your age and he said he saw their likeness in you. We left you behind but the old man anxiously kept asking me whether you’d really head for home to which I could only assure. Have you ? Have you kept your word that you’d take the next train home; that you’d say sorry to your mother and make up for all those long hours of agony she’d have gone through after you went missing from home ? Did the sense of right and wrong prevail, my dear little girl ? Are you home yet ?

ARE YOU AN ALUMNUS OF KOHIMA SCIENCE COLLEGE ?

This is for all those alumni of Kohima Science College, Jotsoma who have fond memories of the years gone by…be it bunking classes or the corridors, the tiny momo and puri hotels in the junction, those lecturers with their own peculiarities to the tedious practical classes or the college weeks and the fresher/parting socials…

Of late, the College authorities have been trying to contact some alumni, besides those who are already teaching in the College. And that is how few of us, who are posted in Kohima, have been meeting quite a few numbers of times in the Principal’s Office room in the past few months. The main motive of the meeting has been to form an Alumni Association keeping in mind that the College would be commemorating its Golden Jubilee in 2011. Authorities feel that the Alumni Association should play a big role in the events/activities prior to the Golden Jubilee celebrations. Of course, the purpose of the Association will not end there; it would only be a start to many years of pleasant camaraderie…

After a very informal discussion, the Kohima Science College Alumni Association has been formed initially with the following as Office bearers:
President – N. Renthungo Jungio
Vice President – Dr Atshu
General Secretary – Avelu Ruho
Asst Gen. Secy – Asangla Imsong
Treasurer – Rongdensungla Longkumer
This initiative is just a humble foundation and after the Association gains some momentum, we expect other alumni to come forward with support, suggestions and opinions to build up and strengthen the Forum. Very soon we hope to carry out a membership drive so that the Association can reach out to everyone and be aware of their presence…

The College is also planning to organize a Winter Fest some time in November this year where one day would be solely dedicated to the alumni. It would be a day when alumni from various batches would get together to interact, dine, catch up with long lost friends or just pick up the guitar and sing the College anthem all over again…Anticipating the best, let us volunteer (for those who can) and join hands with the College authorities to make the day into a beautiful reality.

We have embarked on a modest beginning and with your assistance and support, we shall go a long way. If you are an alumnus, do inform friends about this episode and give your best efforts to be present in the upcoming meetings/programmes. I, on my part, would also continue to post information about the latest happenings as far as I can. The College website will be launched in a couple of days and that would also provide us more insights…there will be a page for the alumni too…

Having spent my entire life in Jotsoma, the place seems more or less the same to me, nothing much has changed and life is as idyllic as can be…Even the potholed ride from PR Hills to the College is bumpy and jarring like never before…and those two antique College buses are still running proud…Its just that the young crowd in the campus seem more colourful, effervescent and more and more Korean…Sounds inviting ? Come and relive your college days all over again...

FOR YOU

Walk with me,
Before the words melt
And the face fades away.

Walk this way,
Lest the ghost of many hopes
Die down and turn into ashes.

Walk with me,
Before the fire in your embrace
soften and disappear.

Walk this way,
Emboss my being,
Lift the veil
Pour yourself all over me
And drench the lie with truth.

Come to me,
Don’t let this weather pass by.
Before everything’s gone,
Walk this way
Walk with me.

(* Photograph taken en route to Dzeleke two months ago)

MOKOKCHUNG SIGHTS AND SOUNDS

For someone who is not very familiar with the native turf, spending four days in Mokokchung last week was more than a pleasing experience. I had been there twice earlier on transit en-route to Tuensang while on official duty but had not really got the time to walk around the place as much as I wanted to, since both times it was either in the late evening or just resting for the night at the Circuit House. And this time too, although it was just another one such trip, I was fortunate to stay back for the weekend to see the sights and experience the sounds of what many term it as a place one would want to visit again and again…

The Tourist Lodge where we were put up was situated at a hillock from where we could see almost half of the town down below. The Lodge, surrounded by trees and foliage, had a beautiful ‘morung’ outside serving as a sit-out. The rooms were well maintained with modern amenities including an ‘internet den’ and a tourism kiosk at the lobby. And I loved the tea so much that I must have had more than five cups a day. I was told that there is a view point park just behind the Lodge which is a good spot to take photographs of the town. But due to the hectic schedules, late nights and equally late mornings, I was not able to go up to take a look at the view. This gives me one of the reasons to revisit the place.

After the usual frenzied official duties got over, our group decided to take a short sightseeing trip of the neighbouring villages on the last day of our stay; a sabbath day for all and a day full of hustle and bustle for the rest of us. Ironic I know, but I would prefer calling it as quirk of fate. The drive up to neighbouring Longkhum village was the most pleasant ride I could gather after the long arduous journey on the almost collapsing highway few days before. It was a refreshing landscape with small black – topped roads bordered with cherry trees and the balmy weather only adding to its charm. The ride reminded me of the beautiful way up to Rumtek Monastery in Sikkim; the roads are equally small albeit with more windings and there are similar pretty scenes to behold with prayer flags flapping on the road sides. It is just that in Rumtek I loved the journey more than the destination but while in Longkhum I treasured both.

Longkhum is a quaint hamlet seeped in traditions and folklore. The village has a number of places of interest and one can spend so many hours just looking around at the surrounding lush mountains. There is a spot high up in the village from where I am told that the whole of Ao area can be seen. We climbed up but the fog had enveloped the entire backdrop and I only felt like walking in the clouds. I could imagine what the landscape would look like on a clear sunny day and this has given me another reason to go back. As it was a Sunday, most of the people had gone to the Church and the street appeared sleepy, almost deserted. Somehow the place seemed to emanate an enchanting old world charm and legend has it that once we visit Longkhum we leave our souls there, which means we have to visit the place again to retrieve our soul.

Mopungchukit was another nearby village that we stopped over, another wonderful place which has already been declared a tourist destination by the state government. It lacked the serenity of Longkhum but was delightful all the same. Here also it was the roads which attracted me, a place where even the village roads were properly painted with traffic signs. After visiting few houses and a lovely park built like an amphitheatre with spectacular wood carvings and statuettes, we stopped by a small colourful morung-type souvenir shop on the roadside. Although the owner reluctantly opened the shop for us, it being a Sunday, he must have been pleased with the transaction as we almost emptied the stock.

One thing I have noticed and appreciated in Mokokchung is the civic sense of the residents and how properly the township is maintained. It appeared so clean that I came back with a lot of chewing gums wrapped in paper tucked away somewhere in my handbag. The villages are also clean I’m told. And I also came across old colonial type of wooden buildings even in the main town which had an appeal of its own. One building that I immediately took a liking to was a small double storied white wooden colonial house with a small balcony with wooden paling. The white paints were withered and flaking but I could instantly make out that the house would look marvelous with colourful hanging flower pots and green plants around the fence.

Next time I would love to drive around leisurely to all the neighbouring areas around Mokokchung, soak in the richness and beauty of the pristine surroundings and discover many new and lovely enriching experiences. What's more, the place is no doubt a photographer’s delight and I hope to capture a lot of memorable moments too. Besides, I also have the best reason to return to Mokokchung - to reclaim my soul from Longkhum…

THE FACE I COULD NOT IGNORE

I had gone down to Dimapur for a day and as usual I drove my mother around the town for her normal grocery shopping. That is how we landed up at the New Market area which is a crowded bazaar with water logged roads, filthy drains, rickety shops lined with hawkers on both sides of the path and teeming with shoppers, auto rickshaws, carts, ice cream vendors, labourers, flea stores and a mass of vehicles parked as they liked. And it also includes few helpful elderly policemen going about doing their regular task.
The traffic rules in Dimapur keep changing so often that I usually end up getting confused about the ‘one way’ routes as, more often than not, the signboards indicating the signals are not there or kept at the far end of the lane almost negligible to the eye. This so, I entered the market area from the wrong side causing quite a nuisance to few drivers until two kind policemen went out of their way to find a suitable, if not the best, parking place for our car. And that was to be my dwelling for the next one hour while my mom went from one shop to another.
Although the heat in Dimapur is not much compared to other places outside Nagaland, it’s the humidity that exasperate me no end. It’s agonizingly uncomfortable and usually sets me in an irritable mood. I sat behind the wheel in the cool confines of the car for almost an hour (albeit grumbles and a feeling of annoyance) and caught glimpses of the people, the chaos and the high liveliness that the dingy place seemed to give off. There are times when I like getting lost in the crowd and yet observe the little niceties here and there that can touch our lives in a subtle yet significant way. And this day was no different…
As I sat there observing the environs, from my opposite direction an old man wearing a sweaty tattered and discoloured shirt and a ‘lungi’, or ‘wrap - around’ in common language, staggered with a loaded ‘thela’/ cart on the middle of the pathway. He would most probably be in his fifties although poverty made him look much older. Numerous wrinkles lined his weary forehead and gaunt sunken cheeks. He walked unsteadily with his heavy load and the wheels (it looked like bicycle wheels to me) were uneven and seemed as if it would pop out of the wobbly cart. It was noon and the sun was at its fiercest. The old man was perspiring profusely but he could not even wipe off the grime from his face although I noticed that he had an equally tattered and sweaty scarf around his neck.
Just then the old man and the cart came face to face with a Scorpio vehicle, with a VIP lady and few VIP kids. The old man could not move back due to the heavy load and the vehicle remained just in front of the cart puller although it could have backed out a little to let him swerve to the side. Nervousness and apprehension gripped the old man most likely because he might have thought that he would be reprimanded for blocking the way of such an important looking vehicle.
Amidst the tension, from nowhere another similar looking frail chap appeared and shoved the cart back and forth with great exertion. Time and again the sweaty old man glanced apologetically towards the Scorpio driver while trying very hard to pull the cart away from the path. It took a great deal of attempt until it could be veered off from the main road. The Scorpio sped away nonchalantly and then the old man gave off the most fulfilling smile I’ve ever come across in a long time. Heaving a sigh of relieve he put the cart down, wiped his brow with his sweaty scarf and thanked the other person for helping him out of what seemed like a deadlock situation to him. He then started off again with the persisting smile, crossed our car and vanished into the narrow lanes...

I HAVE A DREAM

“Dear Diary,

I have a dream, yes like any other. And my dreams do not aspire for the ultimate utopia because I believe that there can never be an ideal world free from any predicaments. I believe in the old adage that ‘small drops of water make a mighty ocean’ and I dream about everyone contributing their bit, in whatever ways possible, to make this little world of ours a safe haven, for the present as well as for the future generations. I believe in You and Me. And I believe that we can change things for the better only when our ways of thinking are transformed.
I dream of a better world where I can be myself, where I can be understood for who I am. How nice it would be if people do not have to be told what to do because they would have already known what best to do in any given situation, be it at work or in our day to day living. I dream of a place where we would shed our selfish attitudes and start being compassionate by putting ourselves in the other person’s shoes and be guided by our hearts.
I dream of a place where people can be people and not beings that are turning back to savagery; a place where we get a chance to live as ‘humane’ beings. Many of our souls are being sucked away either by the necessity of survival or by meaningless ambitions. Where then can we find that small flame of hope that would keep us from stumbling in the dark?
I have a dream that the world would be filled with joy; children laughing, playing, dancing and singing when they can no longer hold back their souls; a place where we all can dream and make those dreams come true; where we don’t have to wait for a brighter tomorrow because we have a happier today.
And Dear Diary, I wish all of us can walk down life’s road in one direction, walking hand in hand, side by side. If only we could just Forgive, Forget and Believe… And yes, most importantly Dear Diary, I want a piece of heaven right here, right now. Have you seen it? Have you caught a single piece of happiness lately? I believe that I should Look, Believe and Smile and catch a piece today, my very own little piece of heaven.
Sealed with Hope…”

(Written for the MEx 'I have a dream' campaign)

NOSTALGIC MOMENTS

I had a good time today. More so because I got to meet my old acquaintances and friends from SMILE, the organization I’ve been associated with ever since my college days. Of course, a lot more of the new ones have joined in and who are all younger than me, but the fact that we all come collectively with a common purpose is what makes the get-together more momentous and rewarding. And with all the crazy schedules at work, this kind of a breather keeps me grounded and happy.
And I’m glad to have met Paul today. For someone who has dedicated twenty years of his life to social services, he has my biggest respect and appreciation. And he’ll always hold a special place in my heart because, for me, he’s an unsung hero, someone who’s been inspiring a lot of young people to have a purpose in life, to have a goal and facilitate others as well. Many may not know him or his name might not appear in the news pages. But silently the work he’s been doing and the people he’s been rousing, will surely be making a difference somewhere, albeit in a small way.
Today’s gathering made me nostalgic too. When my friend John said that recently he’s been to Jyoti Shroad School for the Blind at Shillong and the children and the Institution Head kept asking about me, it made me miss the children and their company all the more. I regret that I could not visit them last year due to my various other engagements at work. I’m happy though, that they remember me with fondness. I specially miss the kids close to me like Daman, Stephanie, Lily and all the hardworking ‘kongs’. I miss the kitchen boys and the cooks who would tell me stories after the children go to bed and I’d be sitting with them by the fireside. And I wonder what Ben would have asked about me if only he were alive. I missed Ben today, quite a lot.
I remember I went for an orientation programme of SMILE (Student Mobilization Initiative for Learning thru Exposure) years ago when my mother didn’t want me to stay at home idle during summer vacations. And I’m forever grateful to her because that summer opened a whole new world for me and I believe that the experiences I’ve had through SMILE has made me perceptive to the surroundings around me. In the years that followed the orientation programme, I’ve had the opportunity to go to places no one would dream of going, like slum areas and pockets of rural villages where people are not fortunate enough to have the benefit of even the basic necessities of life. I’ve experienced days at the worst of environment and exposures to such places at a young age have made me more humane. SMILE has indeed taught me a lot and given me the dexterity to face life’s challenges in a positive manner.
SMILE is a movement under IGSSS (Indo Global Social Service Society) and today Paul and I made exposure trip plans for the coming year, including a trip to Sweden. Hopefully things will get into place. John told me that the children at ‘Jyoti Shroad School for the Blind’ were asking if I had got married. That’s because I’ve already missed a couple of visits, and more so because I had told them that when I get married and have children, I’ll be spending most vacations at their hostel together with my kids. And that we’d all live happily ever after…

UNTITLED

He had a solitary facade with calm demeanor,
His restrained thoughts difficult to make sense of.
And yet he had a sparkle in his gaze
And a grin on his lips.
No one would know the mystery behind the
Twinkle in his eyes,
Or the uncertainty behind those smiles.
It was like when life had turned a corner
Or a wish had come true.
When suddenly everything had become different and new.
Like when we’re stuck in a rut
And the cloud opens up and sunlight breaks through.
Or when a lifetime of search for someone is over
And the intensity of two hearts entwined is hard to convey.
As I stretched out my hand
To grasp the feeling of the moment in time,
Like a ‘catcher in the rye’
He gave me a fleeting look
And turned away with an impassable glance,
The grin still adorning his face.
And only the gentle wind echoed
Of what once walked in undying pursuit.

Love of my life

I don’t even recall when I first set my eyes on him but I remember that I’ve always been captivated by his persona and demeanour. I guess it was his grin that made me love him, for the reason that for me, no one can give off a grin like he does. It’s just so loaded with a gamut of emotions difficult to decipher…
Yes the love of my life Garfield, that big, fat, lazy cat who’s so insecure of his age and yet at the same time, the one with an ego as big as his appetite and proud of it. Sounds kiddish I know but I love this very adorable cartoon character because he personifies everything I’m not, there’s always something new to learn from his antics and brings about a constant whiff of fresh air.
The best thing about Garfield is that he always finds a way out to place himself in a comfortable situation against all odds and puts himself above everything else, something we need to do at times when circumstances demand so. And he comes out triumphant. I try to fall back on this disposition whenever I feel low. That’s why even this evening I read Garfield’s ‘The Me Book’ all over again. It was a rare find on the streets of Darya Ganj years ago and a companion ever since. Here Garfield takes on Sigmund Freud and talks about ‘Ego Quotient’, about unleashing the outrageous ego in all of us, about whipping a flabby ego into shape and come out deciding that we’re the most important person in our life, pun is very much intended…
Yes, dear Diary, today was not at all a good day. I know all days can’t be bright but this day was different and I don’t feel apologetic about feeling so down tonight and wallowing myself in self pity, after all I’m also human. When things don’t work out, it won’t, and no amount of compromise will soothe the soul. And yet, when years of allegiance seem meaningless, the feeling of self betrayal is just too piercing and painful...
By the way, it’s another story that even at my age I collect Garfield memorabilia and am a member of his website. And it’s also another story that Garfield’s favourite food ‘lasagna’ spells out my name ‘asangla’, therein lies the solace…

ONE SMALL STEP

One step forward and I could chase you through time,
One step backward and I lose you forever,
One small step
One small step.


THIS IS THE DAY

Dawn fades away, the hours
Whiled by, used well or wasted
Parts of eternity neglected.
Noon pass and dusk approaches,
This day has been beautiful.

I cannot turn back the clock and
Rush for tomorrow with the undones of today
Still, this day is gone and never will it return.

The dreams that I have is unpredictable.
May or may not be what was planned by God
For tomorrow’s path is unknown.
Still another day will come across and pass away as usual.
Unless I realize that time won’t wait
And seize the hours to wring its nectars,
My dreams will be but dreams.

May I use your gift well
Before evening dusk brings death to this golden day
Help me to make the most till my strength dies away.
For the path ahead of me will end sooner or later
And I shall receive the fruits of what I did,
Or emptiness of what I neglected.