Everydayness of violence and normalcy as luxury

Dr Ksh Imokanta Singh *

'Moigina AND aduga Eikhoigina BUT' (AND for them and BUT for us), lamentation of the victims.

Ngashigikari pao lei ? Kadaidakapneihai? Kaya sire, sok-e? (What's the news today? Where is the firing going on? How many died and injured?) Such are the questions we mortals (Yes, we emphatically know we are mortals, especially during these days) constantly ask everyday during this time of deep divide between 'us' and 'them'.

Some say firing is going on there, some have been grievously injured and hospitalised, some have been killed, so and so many houses have been burned to ashes, many have run away to the relief camps, many have taken up arms to defend themselves from the marauders and also launched offensive as counter attack sheerly as revenge.

The people under direct line of fire are busy attacking and counter attacking and mending their lives. Circle of violence runs unabetted and someone somewhere pulls the strings so that cogs are well in their places and working. In this midst many still gather news from any sources and boil in the contemplation of how they could do this to 'us' whenever the gain balance tilts towards the other.

Mental relief comes when the impact is shifted to 'them'. But it is not exceptional when the mind goes deep into the dungeon hearing the news of killing of innocent lives (especially children), from both sides, questioning the very veracity of humanity in general. Heart weeps for the loss of sanity. May be mob and war have their own separate languages and behaviours.

It takes no time for a saint to become a murderer once he is consumed in that wicked ring of fire. Many, here, are in shock, when war happens in their courtyards. It came without knocking. For them war used to be meant for 'them', somewhere in the Middle-East, Africa or Ukraine. But we are facing it and living it first-hand today.

Albeit the tensions and unsettlement of mind and body, there comes the everydayness of such suspense and fluxes, living them as parts of daily chores. What would today's night be, is the question which lingers everyday in the minds of those attacked and those living in the foothills.

Guarding own villages night and day, engaging in gunfights, street protests, sit-in protests, blocking the roads, checking of people from 'their' community, clanking of electricity posts, thundering sounds of live gun shots and tear gas shells, full curfews for days etc. are the perfect recipe of this melee.

Living the pain and gain, longing for them and furtively relishing the pain, especially for those who are slightly away from the frontline physically but mentally connected. Some would rather draw an analogy with pangs of break-up with his/her beloved (trying not to think of him/her yet thinking gives painful pleasure).

A series of events which we do not wish them to happen and yet feel incomplete without them, caught between 'to be' and 'not to be'. A thin line between the definitions of what is normal and what is not.

'Non-normal' seems to be becoming the 'normal' and we search for the real realm of 'normal' which seems to have merged with 'non-normal'. This blurred time creates a different form of existence and we learn and adjust to be contented to be like this till that time comes when we will be liberated from this real and mental trap.

This everydayness of violence owes its major share to the rumour engine too, with or without internet service. When someone is injured, this engine, sometimes, declares him/her dead. 'That someone' is injured as per the version of a particular person or Leikai (locality) and the same 'someone' becomes dead in another person's mouth and in the neighbouring Leikai.

While such news floats without credibility, All India Radio, Imphal, Local TV Channels and the newspapers tell slightly different stories. It also happens that some confirmed and un-confirmed stories never get aired or published for fear of fomenting the already high emotions. But this engine serves good to the both sides so that mercury level remains high to pursue their respective cause, whatever it is.

Many express their resolve, taking recourse to ancient sayings like, 'lokamada Kei ani leiminnabahounade' (two tigers cannot stay put in just one wooded gorge), 'magunkhangnanaba eeroi ani wainaba tai' (two buffaloes need to settle the score with fighting). They feel that it is a civilization and its history under attack and have to be defended.

Is this present crisis pushed by instinct rather than by reason? Are we trying to prove Mr Darwin right by engaging ourselves in his thesis of 'Survival of the fittest'? Does reason come after instinct ? Many today believe in the affirmative and are following instinct to settle the score once for all. Can we reason at all during such times, except following the flow of the actions and reactions ?

Then what would be the fate of the civilizations, works of art and profound philosophies, we humans dearly developed with every drop of sweat, every spark of intellect and every touch of love, over the ages of human history ? Does war understand this language of utmost depth ? Are destruction and resurgence just two sides of the same coin ? If so, should we say, be it.

Then what of those innocents who are killed and their dear and near ones who are just the victims of this rotating coin ? Are they just the fodders running the instinct who happen to be collateral damages and footnotes on the way to 'Survival of the fittest' pogrom ?

Peace is such a beguiled concept today. Everybody wants peace and it eludes like a coy bride, leaving the minds conjured, fuming and merged still into the suspense. Peace refuses to be part of our everydayness, wherever we are.

Some say peace has returned to us from where it was lost, especially to the Imphal city when curfew was relaxed from 5 am to 5 then 6 then 7 then 8 pm for some days. But the lives at the foothills tell different stories, stories of uncertainty, of loss, of anger, of frustration, of revenge and of betrayal.

Curfew-free life at Imphal city with buzzing keithels (markets), crowded streets, opened restaurants etc. for the last few days serves as a different experiment. Is it what they call normalcy ? It feels like awkwardly pleasurable, unfortunately forgotten and un-habituated. Is this called freedom to be what one wants to be ?

Normalcy becomes an endangered concept here, a luxury we rarely can afford for. On the back of this luxury comes riding the question of 'what would happen tonight and tomorrow'. This flux drives us all, making it just a part of our existence and peace just an ephemeral entity.

Afterword : I know my writing or my storytelling may not make much difference, nay, any difference, especially to the war theatre directors and producers, as this is not the time for writing but actions, some may claim. However, as a fairly reasonable person, I happen to prefer keyboard to AK. May be I am a fool and a coward too, having no knowledge to handle AK.

So, be it... Que sera,sera! Whatever will be will be.