Agartala Nights Poem by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih

I could stay forever in this warm town
of grey dust and chaotic rickshaws,
learning lessons as from a book of fables.

Though I could not differentiate between
the community of its stray dogs, I learnt
that the most effective way of silencing races
was to smother them with one’s mother tongue.
Let them fester with great wounds,
hate, struggle and rage: they would simply be dumb.

Supplant their customs, reduce their palaces
into lowly assembly houses and tourist destinations.
Herd them to the mainstream, drown them there.

Let them emerge from the jungle only to sit
on their haunches on the caked-mud of Bishram Ganj,
hawking vegetables as in Luri Lura.*

Then raise a fence on the border,
fence out rebels and migrants
(how strange was Bangladesh which I
could touch but could not set foot on) .

Agartala, empty space, ** should I declare
such is the fate of all empty spaces?

Such nights as hide all ugliness, unfolding scenes
like dreams would I relive were I of Neer Mahal,
pink and white majestic Nest of the Lake. ***
Such nights when languages let loose
their singsong wonders! When ministers
and mandarins make neither speech
nor promise but rave like frenzied poets!
Such nights as bring such lively men and motley throng!
A roaring Kokborok waterfall, seeker of antique souls;
a sad Bishnupriya, singing Tagorean hymns;
a beaming Akhomia, weaver of intricate songs;
a hard-drinking Tripuri, fierce protector of poets;
and Dibhyendu, most generous father, happy
in your bed-ridden daughter.

Such courtiers would I make my own,
men with no purpose, only heart.

*Luri Lura: the chaotic animal fair in Khasi folklore. **Implied meaning of Agartala, capital city of the Indian state of Tripura. ***Palace of the last Tripuri Raja, Birbikram Kishore Manikya, built in the middle of Lake Rudijala at Melaghar, Tripura.