• Half a day in Dimapur
    Creative Nonfiction

    Half a day at Dimapur

    Unlike other times, I had time on my side. My kidneys collided and my constipation almost turned to diarrhea as I bounced on the back of a line Auto from Chumukedima to the local maximum city. That was how I reached Dimapur in the afternoon today. I checked into Acacia Hotel and had the remaining day for myself which was unusual. It is good to be alone in a hotel room and have time at your disposal. I miss my family and would not travel if I can avoid it. But I am also glad that I could have this time of solitude. I opened the window curtain in my…

  • Creative Nonfiction

    How I wrote my Resume

    It was four in the morning and I went to the loo to download. That is the new word by the way. After 100% was achieved, I came back to bed but couldn’t get on it as my son had turned direction. He was lying parallel to the bed like an equal sign (=) when I left. But on my return, I found him lying perpendicular to the bed like a plus sign (+). There was no space for me and I was left with two options: Turn him and get on the bed This seemed like the natural thing to do. It was four plus something in the morning…

  • Creative Nonfiction

    Construct and Demolish

    Have you ever met someone who constructs an image of you and demolish it? You protest that the image doesn’t correctly represent you. But you didn’t construct it and you can’t do anything about it. In a debate, your argument is constructed and demolished. You protest that your argument is different, that what you meant is not similar to what is being constructed. The moment you open your mouth, you are put into categories and labels are stuck on your forehead. Or even if you don’t open your mouth, just one look and they can assume your political leaning, your religious affiliation, your view on gender, and your dietary preferences.…

  • Creative Nonfiction

    Green Reminders

    Today, I visited Pungro Community Health Centre where I worked briefly 8 years back. Pungro is the last town in the Myanmar border, en route to Mount Saramati which is the highest peak in Nagaland. As we were about to leave, the nurse who has been there all these years pointed to a lucky bamboo plant in the nurses duty room and said, ‘This is your plant, and we have been keeping it in your memory’. That plant was with me from my undergraduate days in Imphal, Manipur around 15 years back. I had forgotten about it. I planted trees and flowers in the health centre compound but all had…

  • Creative Nonfiction

    Snake in the monkey’s shadow etc.

    Some things catch you by surprise – like a movie name, a music band name, or a song title – and they stick. That stickiness factor… Snake in the monkey’s shadow Those were the heydays of kungfu when no pain was felt. There was no tapping on digital screens; it was about punching banana trees. “Master, teach me kungfu” There were no youtube tutorials but kungfu was learned from slightly eccentric masters and by closely observing how animals fight: snakes, monkeys, praying mantis, and cats. Snake in the monkey’s shadow was a movie which represented the mood of the time. Bruce Lee shoes, self-made nunchaku, and you are ready to…

  • Creative Nonfiction,  Reflection

    The future of music

    The type of music which people want to hear can be manufactured with the right mathematical algorithms Music will not fade. Music stars will live on. But musicians will wither away. That is the future of music for you my friend. Let me explain. Music will go on. People will continue to have their fix of the all familiar tune and lyrics. Marketability of the music will determine the production (not composition) and therefore, there won’t be much wandering from the known path. If need be, shit talking in between the songs may remain for a while. The themes will be the recognizable ones, like ‘occurrences of the previous night’,…

  • Creative Nonfiction

    Lost forever

    Lost in social media – forever A small boy went missing in a certain colony in a certain town. Soon word spread with a photo of the boy in social media. It was circulated in heaven-knows-how-many groups in WhatsApp. Those who knew the boy took the responsibility on themselves to spread the information to as many groups as possible. Words of concern started pouring in as the parents desperately searched for the boy. The next morning, the boy returned home on his own. He had gone to play computer games in a new internet café. He lost track of time and had spent the entire night playing. But word had…