I hate hot weather, which is why I love KPI (Kangpokpi). The abundant rainfall and moist breeze adds freshness and clarity to creative thought, and leads to a cooler and calmer view of things.

The rumblings in the valley down south and the noises in the hills up north have no impact here, and I can sit in peace and quietly search for answers to the many questions troubling this enigmatic land. It is a purely selfish reason, and I will not attempt to justify it further.

One of the riddles that I struggle to understand is the absence of genuine role models amidst and abundance of showmen and theatrics in what has become one of the longest running action dramas of our times. Of course, one cannot equate show business with reality, but episode after episode of real life drama has been selectively ignored by New Delhi, and the directors of power at the centre remain as unmoved and unconvinced as ever.

Either the long script has become predictably familiar, or perhaps the long distance makes for a blurred transmission. Either way, our long running mini series consistently fails to make prime time in the absence of star material and a strong supporting cast. After decades of strife, we have yet to see a statesman of stature from among us who will knock loudly on the doors of indecision and demand answers and solutions from those within.

We lack the charisma of a Laloo Yadav or the mass appeal of a Govinda for people to sit up and take notice of us in the corridors of power. This lack of ability is not a human or personal reality; it is a political reality.

Why do we lack character and definition? Why are we still stereotyped as slow-witted, tongue-tied, short-tempered goofs? Some of the answers lie in the influences and impressions that make us.

People in Manipur have an incredibly bad taste in cinema. Only two basic variants exist - Kung Fu and Vietnam War. Titles like "Shaolin Fighter" and "Commando Force" enjoy mass appeal over more meaningful cinema like The Godfather and The Pianist.

A regular diet of mindless violence, bad English, and over-acting on the idiot box has dulled our intellect and limited our vision to the sub-titles flashing at the bottom. The apparitions of money, muscle and battle have enchanted and invaded our hearts, minds and souls.

This is not good Kung Fu. We cannot expect to have meaningful role models in any generation by staying glued to the nonsense we are so much in love with. The lack of imagination and wooden monotony displayed by B- grade action heroes, together with the wiles of scheming villains in the same feature bear a striking resemblance to our actors in legislation. Hong Kong and Bollywood provided the original plot of crooked politicians, twisted justice, and the angry young man. We have successfully edited, revised, and adapted it into our system.

Family. Trust. Loyalty. These are among the many values and ideals superceded by rage, greed, and deceit in the race for self glorification inspired, no doubt, by the marathon duels in the Kick Boxer series and in the Drunken Monk style. We have not only aped the west and the rest, but have made a monkey of our characters as well.

Little wonder then, that the big cats and simians look on uninterested while we go bananas. Rambo and Mogambo definitely do not make for good role models; and guns, bombs, and flying kicks have proved to be neither safe nor entertaining in the real world.

This is not to restrict our freedom of choice, by any means. We are at liberty to see, hear, and indulge in whatever that amuses us. But when we have so many choices, why do we prefer to waste our valuable time on gaudy cinema and torture ourselves endlessly with familiar recitals of blood, gore, and villainy?

We have seen enough of it on our streets and fields already. Why do we keep staring in awe at flying bullet-proof shaolin monks? It takes more than martial arts to overcome a multitude of villains. It takes much more to produce robust statesmen, ready and willing to take on the heavyweights in New Delhi.

I wish more of us would go and watch The Godfather; and The Pianist as well. We would find the answers to most of our questions, and would learn to appreciate the ordinary joys of life. We would be inspired to lead rather than to follow; to rise up from our despair and ascend new heights; to offer solutions instead of pouring out grievances. To search for answers.

I do not offer a theological or a conservative answer. I will leave that and other didactics to our learned ADC. I offer a simple and practical answer: take a pause.

Switch off that TV.

Life isn't always Kung Fu. Open your eyes to the reality of the moment, and shut your ears from the din to listen to the voice within. And the next time a poster of John Rambo or Mogambo catches your eye, ignore it.

Because when we start deceiving ourselves into thinking not that we want or need something, not that it is necessary for us to have it, but that we must possess and become it, that is when we join the leagues of madmen, and then is when the thin whine of hysteria is heard in the land. Then is when we are in bad trouble.

And I think we are already there.