What a visit, indeed!
|
Randhir Thiyam
What a visit, indeed —
Two years four months, too late,
And a hundred tragedies deep.
After jet-setting through 78 countries,
you remembered Manipur —when the trees were ash,
the rivers carried grief, and autumn wasn’t just a season…
it was a funeral.
Where were you when the sky burned red with smoke?
When cries rose louder than temples or parliaments?
When babies were butchered, mothers violated,
And history was buried under silence?
But now, you arrive like a messiah with a media crew,
Sniffing votes through your moustache — campaign boots shining like they’ve never touched the mud of mourning.
Is this a pilgrimage or PR?
You speak now, not for justice — but for elections.
You show up, not with healing — but hashtags.
But hear this:
The people you ignored remember.
They remember the fire.
They remember the silence.
And when the ballots open —
their memory will speak louder than your slogans.
This time, isn't a welcome,
Even the children laugh at your timing,
Even the wind mocks your arrival.
Even silence speaks louder than your rehearsed concern.
So hand over justice and
the Scheduled Tribe status or the hill state.
or face democracy’s delayed but ballotic reply.
Let the people decide --
And let the vote speak louder
Than the silence you gave us,
What a visit, indeed.
What a visit, indeed —
Two years four months, too late,
And a hundred tragedies deep.
After jet-setting through 78 countries,
you remembered Manipur —when the trees were ash,
the rivers carried grief, and autumn wasn’t just a season…
it was a funeral.
Where were you when the sky burned red with smoke?
When cries rose louder than temples or parliaments?
When babies were butchered, mothers violated,
And history was buried under silence?
But now, you arrive like a messiah with a media crew,
Sniffing votes through your moustache — campaign boots shining like they’ve never touched the mud of mourning.
Is this a pilgrimage or PR?
You speak now, not for justice — but for elections.
You show up, not with healing — but hashtags.
But hear this:
The people you ignored remember.
They remember the fire.
They remember the silence.
And when the ballots open —
their memory will speak louder than your slogans.
This time, isn't a welcome,
Even the children laugh at your timing,
Even the wind mocks your arrival.
Even silence speaks louder than your rehearsed concern.
So hand over justice and
the Scheduled Tribe status or the hill state.
or face democracy’s delayed but ballotic reply.
Let the people decide --
And let the vote speak louder
Than the silence you gave us,
What a visit, indeed.