LET THERE BE CARNAGE

LET THERE BE CARNAGE 

This morning, news trickles in of yet another house being burnt in the capital city of Imphal. Hardly surprising, although in this case, it is the home of the ruling party member and a Union Minister to boot.  

https://indianexpress.com/article/north-east-india/manipur/manipur-violence-union-minister-rk-ranjan-residence-fire-imphal-8665757/

Two takeaways from this particular incident.

One, almost all media coverage, whether print or otherwise, seem reluctant to call out these mobs for who they are, refusing to identify or name them; instead, they are deemed faceless, nameless ‘miscreants’, ‘irate mobs’ and so on. The same has not been afforded to the Kukis – the suffix militants so generously added for every encounter, clash, incident and the subsequent casualties that have arisen as a result.
But we’ll come to that later.

Second, the fact that no one seems to want to address the most obvious elephant in the room and that is, why this seething rage? Why this blind, visceral animosity? Evident in the rash and completely reckless, continual spewing of bitterness and loathing, hubris notwithstanding.

The fact is May 3rd and the spillage thereafter did not happen overnight. 

It is the culmination of a deep seated, entrenched frustration that is in part, ethnic differences but largely fuelled to a greater degree by the age old, ‘the aliens (aka refugees/outsiders) are coming to get you’ narrative.

At the heart of what ails Manipur is the undeniable fact that it has lain forgotten, far removed from all else modern and developing in modern India. It is a singular truth, one that is played out in the majority of the north-eastern states, especially where there are demographic differences.  

So, while hotels and malls have sprung up in the capital city with an upsurge in retail marketing and small businesses, the major arterial road through the city widened to include a footfall of traffic, Hummers including, the basic needs and aspirations of its people remains stuck like a needle on the old LP player; scratching the frustrating tone of unemployment, bad roads, poor water and electric supply, minimal health and education facilities and the same bleakness, breath-taking views notwithstanding.

Case in point, barely 45 kms away from the capital city, on either side, should one wish to travel, one must be prepared to battle dirt tracks that are yet to see tar tops, not to mention craters that would make the moon landing pale in comparison.

The bare minimum sketch of a road that calls itself a national highway, which incidentally still remains decrepit, in patches, its condition testament to the neglect, both by the central and state leadership, and being repaired ever so occasionally, on the surface, just before elections, only to be eroded by the onslaught of the perennial rains. A classic representation of the tenuous relationship between the state and the center.

Across this, scattered settlements passing off for towns; healthcare and basic civil services at a bare minimum, the landscape a bleak throwback eerily resembling a war torn south Asian countryside. 
It is not surprising then, to see quite the exodus into the main city, from different parts of the state, whether it be for education, employment and even the mandatory health check. I mean who wouldn’t? 

But, and coming back to the capital city, there is this underlying simmering tension that has been there for a while now. And by that, I mean over the last three decades or more.
Ergo, young people with master’s degrees, that had to mask up and drive rickshaws just to make a living. A large and ever-growing population wanting to better themselves but severely handicapped in more ways than one.

Be it the state civil services, or a position in any of the other sectors, admission tests and entrance examinations have little to do with whether one gets the job or not. 

In the end it all boils down to the penny. How much of it you can shell out to get what you need.
PhD?
School Registration Certificate?
Havildar’s post?
Everything has a price, qualification be damned.

And for a while there, while the AFSPA was in full deployment, civil rights be damned too.
https://thewire.in/law/manipur-fake-encounters-afspa-army
https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-40271353

The big C. 

Rampant and pervasive in every aspect of life.

Enter then the cycle of repression and despair.
Add a hefty spoon of cultural and nationalist pride.
Stir in irrational fear, heaped with half-truths and some soon to be disclosed ‘irrefutable’ data.
Whip all of the above into a steaming, frothing brew and soon, the results are there for all to see.

It did not matter if the ones you attacked or looted or whose homes you burnt down were the ones you grew up with. 

It meant little, if nothing at all, when you cheered on whilst a mother and son were charred to death, even through and despite their heart wrenching cries, ethics and moral rights regardless.

It does not matter, when you stand guard, hiding behind your gender, refusing to let the forces through, while your men, your husbands and sons, loot and pillage, kill and destroy.

It does not matter. It cannot.

Because it, to some degree satiates the rage that you feel, have felt all these years.

Anger at the disparity you face when you have to fight for a seat at the table.
Helpless rage at the powers that be that have done and continue to do nothing to make life better or easier.

Because all of this? This rage, this need to annihilate? 

This would somehow be so much easier to deal with, to rationalize, by finding an enemy, the enemy. No guesses as to who that enemy is.

So much easier of course, rather than addressing the problem itself.

And so, to that end, the monster within has been summoned. Clothe it with the black garb of self-righteous indignation, align it to a greater cause and gather the legions.

The only problem with this is that squads like these tend to be fickle, their appetites ravenous... It won’t be long until, much like the symbiote, it will turn against its host and devour it whole.

So be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.