Sense-ing the City

New Delhi city. Enclosed spaces. Women in each other’s company. The settings include girls’ PGs, corners at restaurant, and bedrooms. Subtle moments of interactions among them; the tenderness of words unsaid.

These women would often confront public spaces with steely gazes and compose themselves in the manner of knights taking on quests. Who could blame them for having to do so after the hostilities the city lashes upon them? However, the same subjects created and shared safe spaces among one another, letting go of their defenses they wore as armours previously. They established trust within the sanctuaries they created together.

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Contested Landscapes? Imaginations beyond Gorkhaland

In a conversation with one of my respondents S Lepcha she tells me, “We Lepcha’s are often seen as primitive tribal people even within the Nepali community… Although we do share the same space we have our own culture, language, myths and so on which are slowly getting lost…Of course it is important to respect different ways of living right? We Lepchas have our own stories of origin, our own relationship with the surrounding environment and I feel we should not lose touch with it.”[1] Her friend takes cue from her to say “…You know we Lepchas are the original inhabitants of this region, we believe that we have a special relationship with the land and that binds us Lepcha’s together although religious conversions have created many differences within the Lepcha community. I am a practicing Christian but I feel that conversion to Christianity has led to a loss of some our cultural heritage, so I feel it is important to be aware of who we are, where we come from, our special relationship with Mount Khangchendzonga…”[2]

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Raas Vignettes

Personal notes from ritual spaces


Ensconced within the ramparts of the Manipur University at Canchipur is Langthabal hill, the location of the raasmandop where it is believed the first Raaslila was danced in 1779. The ruins once stood as Chingthangkhomba’s palace. As an archaeological site, the ruins are protected under Manipur Ancient and Historical Monuments and Archaeological Sites and Remains Act (1976, Sec:4:1). Perhaps due to a panoptic view, Langthabal hill has been the Company Operating Base of the Assam Rifles for many years, making it an impassable zone. I had narrated the historicity of the site to a high-ranking officer in the summer. Within a few days I had received a text from him informing that the commanding officer of the base would be happy to host me for an hour under his supervision. At Langthabal, a junior officer from Bihar was instructed to walk me around. He twice requested me not to photograph any part of the army base, but the old ruins. Walking through the tightly packed quarters of the soldiers, I find a clearing where a temple stands. The small, bulbous spire and four minarets are reflective of the eighteenth-century Bengal style. Leaving those intact, the rest of the structure had been white-washed peach sometime in the recent past. The crevices which carry motifs and gods in temples from the same time, lie bare. The interior walls however were plastered with posters of Hindu gods.

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Subverting Violence and Working Peace: Understanding March 5th Incident

What does it take for an incident involving an orgy of violence to transcend the barriers of state censorship? More so, how does a dominant projection of an incident tend to subsume the worldview of the inhabitants? Teresa Rehman indeed provides hope in the context of Manipur protests of 2004 against the brutal gangrape and custodial killing of Thangjam Manorama. She says that state censorship is flat footed and cannot keep up with the swiftness and pervasiveness of personal accounts and the depth of that all-encompassing commons which is popular memory (Rehman, 2017). The quest for reality thus gets entangled in the deficit of projecting a highly charged protest on sexual violence and its dominant projection as a communal incident.

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Nupi Maanbi Thabal: A Brief commentary on Gender and Cultural Subversion

The nupi maanbis are a man to woman transgender community of the contemporary Manipur (the essay exclusively discusses transgender women, although other queer communities need crucial attention). The 21st century nupi maanbis occupy a paradoxical place in the Manipuri society. One may observe that many nupi maanbis are accommodated in family and society, mainly for the social roles they perform today, such as a beautician or a designer or a breadwinner for the family (it is still very common for people to mock a lay nupi maanbi on the roadside). (The role of the beauty parlour industry in bringing a social role for nupi manbis requires a deeper analysis). The act of “accommodation” however does not ensue cultural legitimacy, which would involve a wider acceptance of the values necessitated by a gender variant identity. In this intersection of denial and cautious inclusion, nupi maanbis’ social relations are framed by “tolerance”, not “acceptance”. However, in the last 10 to 15 years, nupi maanbis have begun to mark their presence in the Manipuri society albeit entrenched marginalisation, they have acquired different means of articulating identity and community, and socio-cultural legitimacy that were not feasible in the past. What makes the contemporary period an unprecedented one for the visibility of nupi maanbi subjects? The global movements for gender and sexual minorities (including queer initiatives in India), aiming at acquiring civil rights for queer subjects, is a broad spectrum within which the visibility of nupi maanbi community in Manipur is contextualised. Alongside the discourses of democracy and human rights, the age of information has seen people from different minority positions documenting their struggle in social media, culture, cinema, fashion and beauty industry, etc. Conterminously, there are structural interactions between the society and various minority groups mirroring each other’s politics; a crucial outcome of these interactions is the element of cultural subversion.  In this trajectory, the nupi maanbi identity today poses challenges to the conventional understanding of gender in general and the societal construct of womanhood and femininity in particular.

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Thunderbolt from the Dark Clouds

Sanahanbi’s husband Raghu works as a peon. They lead a cosy life with three lovely children. Neighbours are envious of Sanahanbi. They consider her fortunate for having a husband who isn’t a spendthrift. But ever since an officer who loves to drink and gamble got transferred at Raghu’s workplace, his house has become a party den. It has been a daily affair. Quite unexpectedly Raghu has started drinking regularly. Day by day he has become more violent and abusive. Sanahanbi often pleads, “This is home not a workplace. Neither am I an employee under your officer. Rather one honour-bound by marriage. Attending to the care of husband and children, maintaining a home needs all the time in hand. It is below your dignity to entertain their biddings in this way. It would affect the children. Don’t make a devil out of me, please have some sense.”

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Melting Heart

Rahmat Ali offered me a plateful of sweets –muri laddoos (balls of puffed rice stuck together with sticky jaggery). As I leaned forward to pick up the cup of tea from the table, my eyes strayed to land on a few old issues of the Assamese magazine, Prantik, lying underneath, along with a bunch of letters bearing the letterhead of the local branch of the Asom Sahitya Sabha (A literary body of Assam). Those letters too seemed dated and quite old. The wall in front was held together by wooden battens and a number of pictures were seen hanging on it. There was an old  black and white photograph of the iconic Assamese singer Bhupen Hazarika, singing with his hands on a harmonium,  a nicely framed map of Assam, chain-stitched on a piece of cloth and close to that was a framed photograph of Mecca.  A plastic flower vase, lustreless with age, was standing on a table in the corner. The glass panes on the book case were broken and one could see through them a collection of books – Malik’s novels, the complete works of Borgohain, a couple of booklets on Assamese spelling and so on.

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Mini India

Have you heard a parrot speak Urdu?
I have, in my friend Zahiruddin’s house.
A mynah talking in Hindi?
Even that, in my friend Nimai Singh’s house.
What about an ass reciting Sanskrit slokas?
Yes, very often in Agya Gokul Shashtri’s garden.
A cat speaking Bangla, meow meow, ki bolo ki bolo
A dog mouthing English
A goat conversing in Meiteilon?

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Like the waiting to meet
The woman you’ve been burning for
Who had messaged saying she’ll come on her own
I also waited for many days
For those unknown gentlemen
Who told me they would come to shoot me.
They arrived one afternoon and
We met at last, face to face.

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our kitchen taps are broken
and our dirt hides thick on tile lines and
unscrubbed bathroom walls
the laundry bag is full and if you peeped into
our sixteen year old washing machine
you’ll find clothes there
bleeding colour
from the laundry attempt made by
my sister
eleven years old

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Subversion / Sub-version

This monsoon issue of Yendai examines ways of imagining contestations. The idea of taking up subversion as the theme of Yendai had come up on earlier occasions and unfortunately addressing it seems to be topical given the circumstances we currently find ourselves in. Even as we agree on the theme, our approach and ways of understanding subversion differ. We approach it through two ways. First, we see sub-version as acts and practices that challenge the status quo. Second, related to the former, are the ways in which such practices become productive of new manifestations and cultures that may ironically become hegemonic in themselves and invite subversion. Acts of subversions calls for imagining new aesthetics and sensibilities through the questioning of hierarchical practices of hegemonic cultural domination. The present issue is devoted to the possibility of capturing resisting narratives that emerge in such contested fault lines. Subversions are attempts to check the deliberate acts of forgetting put in place through singular meta-narratives and violent repressions of truth. The metaphor of a palimpsest encapsulates the idea of subversion/sub-versions with the hope of reading meaning in acts of over writing and re-writing in the scrolls of time. It is used to explore the many layered existence of a cultural form and not solely the act of writing. In this edition of Yendai, we bring four poems, two visual works, two short stories and four essays on this theme.

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Imagining the Other

Who is the ‘self’ and who is the ‘other’? To imagine the other, one starts by imagining the self. Likewise, the self needs the other to define itself. It becomes a chicken-and-egg question. This imagination of the self and the other can be formed based on various aspects. It can begin from the most striking physical attributes, it can be built on culture, food or even smell. Who is this self and who is the other? Can the self be imagined without the other? In a world that’s marked by rapid mingling as well as violent segregation, what is the relevance of the imagination of the self and the other?

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Our Ngari and their Masala

Tired was I because of the hectic college schedule.
Hadn’t had breakfast because the class test was too important to be missed.
Exhausted and burned out, I returned back to my room.
Pondering whether I still have enough energy to cook some food.
Also wondering whether it would be good to have some snacks at the nearby tea stall.

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The winding trail that makes a road
Follows me with its ghostly tremor
Of wintry dryness
Of fallen papery leaves
As the naked trees lift their arms
Up to the sky
A rapture of Indian classical dancers
Embracing their bare beauty

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An analysis of Jahera: The problematic representation of Pangal in mainstream arts and literature

Hijam Anganghal’s Jahera eponymously titled after its heroine Jahera became one of the most popular novels of the time followed by AIR Manipur’s adaptation of the same into the famous radio leela Jahera and film-maker Chandam Shyamacharan’s subsequent adaptation of the same into the feature film- Zehra (1999). Jahera/Zehra became a household name in mainstream art and literature of its time. The story revolves around a conflicted love story of a Pangal woman whose excessive acceptance of orthodox Meitei culture in pursuit of a love relationship with a Meitei man ends tragically. This eponymous heroine and the cross-religious love story of yesteryears somewhere left problematic cultural and religious dominance of Meitei over Pangal and also marked a certain type of representation of Pangal in mainstream art and literature till date.

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Stories of/from Kashmir

Stories! There are no good stories in Kashmir. There are only difficult,    ambiguous, and unresolved stories. (166).
– Basharat Peer.

Kashmiri nationalist author, Basharat Peer comments on the existential challenges faced by the Kashmiris as well the complexities of narrativising the conflict situation and its human dimension in his memoir, Curfewed Night (2008). Kashmir valley regarded as paradise on earth has been in a state of armed rebellion against the Indian state since the 1990’s. Some of the primary causes of discontent among Kashmiri populace is gradual erosion of political autonomy guaranteed by the constitution of India through article 370, political interference in Kashmir valley by successive governments in New Delhi, and all pervasive otherization of the Kashmiris as Muslims due to gradual rise of Hindutva politics in northern India.

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Patriarch(s) and Nation(s): Wilful Erasures of Female Selves

Tu hi meri manzil hai, pehchan tujhi se/ Pohonchun main jahan bhi, meri buniyaad rahe tu” (You’re my destination, you give me my identity/ Wherever I go, you remain my foundation).  Meghna Gulzar’s Raazi, the story of a female spy, presents Alia Bhatt’s character as “A Daughter. A Wife. A Spy”. The director has managed to make an excitingly paced spy thriller with the necessary dose of drama yet she chooses to highlight her protagonist’s roles as daughter and wife, first and foremost. Along with representing the human tragedy of war, Raazi also reveals the patriarchal nature of nationalism that expects its women to submerge themselves under domestic roles even when they are working as soldiers of the nation.

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On Belonging and Home

Towards the closing scene of Fiddler on the Roof, as Tevye, Golde and their two daughters were preparing to leave, evicted from Anatevka, Golde is seen sweeping their house. When Tevye asked her what she’s doing his sharp tongued wife, Golde, replied, agitated, “I don’t want to leave a dirty house!”

Directed by Norman Jewison, the 1971 musical is the story of a Jew peasant in the pre-revolutionary Russia. The story centers on Tevye, the father of five daughters, and his attempts to uphold his Jewish religious and traditions as outside influences encroach upon the family’s lives. He must cope with the strong-willed actions of his three older daughters, who wish to marry for love.

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Mapoksida II

Even this birth reveals my weakness
Rainfalls reminiscent of monsoons of my previous birth
The wet earth lingers to seize my footprints
Footprints intend to take my stead
Even in this new birth, I am still myself
Recollecting river’s flow

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Our Yumjao

Known for his sauciness in the locality, Modhumangol one day turned up and asked for Baba. I called out Baba. He came out of the Yumjao in his typical slow paced stride. “Taada”, addressed Baba to Modhumangol, as the latter was slightly older than him. “Get your Yumjao cleaned up. This afternoon some people from the television are coming for video recording”, said Modhumangol. He continued, “They are not able to find any Yumjao, leave aside a proper one, in Imphal.” Baba nodded, but without a word. Modhumangol soon left. Later I protested that Baba shouldn’t pay heed to the decree of the cocky man.

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3 am

we like waking up at strange places
that smell of burnt rice and yongchaak

we don’t find stars in our skies
and crawl our ways in loose stockings
in supermarkets where men-women-men hold hands
to pretend they’re not lonely
as if trying to learn to walk away from
the shadows of long days that we’d tucked into our sleeves

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Home is No Place

O land, my land!
Our first home, my first breath
Our first step, my first love
Our beginning…
This day I am merely a seasonal visitor,
Though change in each air
Brings feelings of you in my skeletal bosom,
Today the winter fades
And I chronically sneeze into the next season,

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the autumn breeze
came crawling into the valley,
writhing in music
that is haunting to some ears,
passed through every pore of the shekpin
stored in corners from past festivities,
darting from alley to alley
mangol to mangol
often bowing in front of the holy basil
often ignoring the pleas of the living
and non-living spirits.
but it said, light one more for mera
because the stars have vanished
above my brothers’ roofs,
choked by smoke from the new cities
and old mistakes made in rage.
it said, light one more for mera,
for when the fervent footsteps of chali
will rise with the hunter’s moon,
their tremors will reach the hills
taut at mid-day, blue at dusk,
promising the birth
of another star.

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F**k NO! I don’t belong

The blurred image on my phone (of my name on the NRC website)
Confirms I belong
To a state I have mostly only disliked
For its filth, cunning and cruelty
It has told me in ways
The slant of my eyes and the size of my body
And the way I roll my R, are all wrong
So are the smells that I carry in my bag back from home

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The Burden of Names

Story of a Name

As part of the requirements for a course that I service, I once assigned my students to write essays on their names. I got more than what I bargained for. The breadth of the names and what they mean; the depth of descriptions of varied naming privileges and ceremonies gave me a window to the richness of differences and the strength of togetherness in this part of the world. My students taught me, nudged me into looking again at my own name, through their personal stories – that range from the funny through the mundane to those with palpable pathos – behind their names.

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The Emas, the Reader and the Prelude

Teresa Rehman, The Mothers of Manipur, Zubaan, 2017, Rs 325, pp. 153

The cover of the book depicting the naked emas, is quite illustrative of what it will discuss. The nude protest as the critical event marked as an exemplary moment is so familiar a reading. What lies behind that image are human lives. The book is premised on the many different aspects of discussions, negotiations and the differences vís-a-vís the mode of protest that the women’s collectives decide to take up. The book unsettles the belief of some, that feminism is a linear trajectory of one brave / radical moment to the other – one nupilan (which means women’s war in Manipuri) to the other as if a linear trajectory, but rather it is accumulative of a series of anxieties, insomnias, and negotiations. The preface sets out the premise of the book.

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