Ronism: No Hay Banda

Megha stood at the door, looking through the keyhole and screaming from time to time that they were going to kill her, while I sat at my table reading Hardy’s ‘Far From the Maddening Crowd’.  Megha hadn’t had left my room for the last two days and all she did during those two days was screaming after every few minutes that they were going to kill her. She didn’t allow me to leave my room too. I heard a noise, and as I looked down from my window to spot a white van standing at our gate, she made an unearthly scream, widening her eyes and tearing her lungs: “They are here! Save me, Rory! Hide me under your skin.” I told her that no one was going to kill her, but she wouldn’t listen and there were footsteps approaching my door. “They are here,” she whispered into my ears, shivering, and hid behind the curtains. “Open the door, Rory,” I heard my mother say. “What do you want?” “I have brought food,” she said. “I am not hungry.” A second later, my door was...

The demons start to emerge From under the bed And behind the walls Laughing, crawling and showing teeth I cannot breathe My soul is a complete mess. And it all ended Just like that. I could hear no more the cry From the other side of the phone. She is gone. Just like she said she would. The fog covers my windowpane The day is now so dark There is a rusted gun Leaning against the rotting wood It works good I have the only bullet I need. I crawl to where the gun is But a rope is tied to my feet Someone's pulling it from other room From where I hear a hymn The demons blaspheme Hope is written all over the rope.

Raising chickens at the backyard And they think I am their God. But a day when I cannot work anymore, I can just pick one up and devour to make my stomach Growling stop. And I am telling the neighbors that I love them, That I raised them with mercy, They pretend to believe it or possibly believe it. In any case, the chickens are going to die. Freewill is an illusion. I preach about a fair world, And the newspapers tell where the world is wrong. But I am not going to do my part. I am not going to set them free. I have fears. My children, I tell them I did much for them. Good thing they don’t question Or curse me for bringing them to the world, To face the battle of salvation and damnation And to live to save my false pride.

She said, fear not, Look at me without the glasses on I am not the others I am you. I don’t look at her I have spent too long staring the ground But I know, She is me. Something has changed The world is a better place. It takes one person To make all the difference!

1. The uncle who has an opinion about everything and has no clue everyone talks shit behind him. 2. The youths who are looking for an opportunity to sneak out and finish the bottles of liquors already bought and kept secretly in a safe place. 3. The guy who keeps bragging how many people he has burnt already in his life and make others feel small. 4. The director who is an expert in arranging the wood for the stove. He stands near the stove and directs the young people how it is done. 5. The guy who knows more than the brahmin. 6. The old man whose sentiments get hurt whenever someone does something that, according to him, goes against the culture. 7. The guy who makes rounds writing names of every person who is present at the funeral.

(Written on October 14, 2017) Three little girls in an auto outside my office waved their hands at me and were shouting 'bye bye'. Puzzled, I looked behind to make sure their gestures meant for me. There was no one else. But before I could return the gesture, the traffic police let them go. I remember, many years ago when I was in class 2, it was decided one Sunday morning that we would visit one of our relatives who used to stay near the Dimapur Sugar Mill. Three girls from our neighborhood decided to join us too as it was Sunday and who cares about 'what they will think' in our childhood? I was particularly close to the second girl because she was not only pretty, of my age and could talk to me for hours without getting bored but also because she was my classmate. As we got into the auto and it started to move, the girls started screaming. It was at that point that I realized they never had been in an auto-rickshaw previously. They screamed so much that the dri...

(Written on November 18, 2017) An 86 years old shivering Ao man came and sat in the last chair of our church. His eyes were so deep into his skull that it almost seems like a miracle that he doesn't use spectacles. I am uncertain if he cannot afford spectacles or doesn't like to wear them. For some reason, as I shook hands with him, he kept saying how much Bengalis and Keralites did for education in Nagaland. He repeated the same as I held his giant umbrella over him, mentioning to him that four people could get under it. I accompanied him to Pastor's place and he insisted in paying the auto fare. I couldn't let him pay. While we sat and talked with others, he said how much Bengalis and Keralites changed the education in Nagaland. He was also very eager to meet the land owner of the pastor because, strangely, he wanted to say 'thanks' to him for accommodating pastor and his family. When we got out, as I held the umbrella upon his head again and started t...