Women signing a Right To Information (RTI) petition in 2006 at Mawsynram, Khasi Hills Women signing a Right To Information (RTI) petition in 2006 at Mawsynram, Khasi Hills Recipe For Peace

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In an iron AFSPA pot,Issue statements of condemnation.Declare a ‘high-level’ investigation will be undertaken.Liberally season with tearsOpen fire to prevent grief or outrage from escaping.Drive around in uniform and armed to infuseflavour of fearSimmer slowly, stirring gentlyUntil memory is reduced to the consistency ofForgetting.Best served cold in a bed of crisp cash

T Keditsu, Nagaland(T Keditsu is the pen name of Theyiesinuo Keditsu, an indigenous feminist, poet, academic and educator.)

After My Death

After my death I will live as a treeWhose fallen leaves a poet will savein the folds of a bookOn whose branch a wayfaring birdWill sing a void-dispelling love song.

And as a river I will hear all sorrows, cry to themAnd save my tears in myself-

I will witness the coming togethersI will witness the falling aparts.

I will be an abandoned houseWhose warden never returns,Whose broken windows are batteredBy cold winds from the sea.

After my death I will live as a boatmanAnd sail over the horizonOr wear paper wings and fly to mountain peaks.

After my death I will live on

As a dead languageWith no scriptAnd no poets.

I will be a handful of grainWhich kills hunger foreverSo that no one has to sell their kidneys anymore.

After my death I will be a landWhere humans are costlier than cattleWhere a word of protest doesn’t earn a bullet.

After my death I will live onIn those who know how to fight for a heritage,In those who have homes but no country.

I will live on as the struggle of a tribe without a lineage.

—Translated from Assamese by Shalim M Hussain

Heena al-Haya, Assam

(Heena al-Haya is a multilingual poet. Her poems written in Assamese, Hindi and Miyah languages are about the love and social realities of the Miyah community and the country.)

Independence Day

Apparently tomorrow is Independence Day.In my village I see independence every day.Songs of independence play dailyIn Phulbanu’s mother’s empty rice pot.

When Phulbanu’s mother enters the kitchenHer children flock around and say,‘Mother we are hungry.’Independence rolls downPhulbanu’s mother’s eyes.

She looks at her children’s facesAnd takes out her oldBegging bag.Inside the bag are songs of independence.

Phulbanu’s mother has a stomach acheThe doctor says there are stones inside,That she needs an operation.When Phulbanu’s mother returns empty-handedFrom her begging rounds, she thinks,‘Better stones in the stomach than an empty stomach’.On the bodies of the stones are engravedSongs of independence.

Phulbanu’s father has been at the detention campFor three years.He can’t sleep even in the darkness.When night grows, Nelson Mandela walks inAnd lulls him to sleep and says,‘Through this path independence will come’.

Phulbanu’s mother’s eyes are full.She rubs her eyes with her aanchal and says,‘Child, independence is not oursIndependence is of the rich manIndependence is of the MLA and the minister.For us it’s the walls of detention.’

‘Is this country not ours, mother?’

‘The country is ours but not the kings.People say- when the king is blindDarkness descends upon the countryAnd when a king is blinded by faithThe rumblings of a death-dance sound in the land.’

‘Mother, the country is ours, our rights are oursAnd I will sing the songs of independence.Come king, come ministerI will make the country better.’

A star dislodges from the sky and falls in Phulbanu’s eyeAnd from her mother’s eyes independence keeps flowing.

—Translated from Assamese by Shalim M Hussain

Begum Asma Khatun, Assam(Begam Asma Khatunwalo88 gaming, 35, is a published novelist and one of the few women poets of her community. She found her poetic side while writing her first novel, a compilation of verses on the char-chapori culture. Her second novel, Bisal (The Boatman), delineates a centuries-old history of Assamese Muslims who migrated from pre-independent Bangladesh to today’s Assam and their plight in an anti-immigrant, anti-Muslim society.)

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