033 It’s all in the mind : The “high” from fear

The “high” from fear

Moving hands to move forward,
Kicking hard to keep afloat,
Peaking out to catch a breath,
Looking down making bubbles,
Seeing the patterned tiles below,
And you see it sloping down ,
Suddenly gripping you with fear,
Knowing you are going to the deeper end,
Where you could sink,
But you are already there,
You can hate it or love it,
But you definitely have to deal with it,
You sink and sink a bit,
You kick harder and harder,
Swimming back through where you can stand on your feet,
Emerging gasping for air,
And then you give a wicked smile,
Loving the taste of being “high” from fear,
And you know you would still go back to the deep end again despite the fear.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

032 It’s all in the mind : Colors through your eyes

Colors through your eyes

How would I know of the beauty of the vibrant green color of the bamboo leaves ?
How would I know of the beautiful rich saffron color soil of the hill ?
How would I know the beauty of the golden sun as it rises and sets?
How would I know the beauty of flowers with colors ?
I am color blind,
I know “beautiful” and “colors” through your eyes and words,
Otherwise it’s a mere black and white sight.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

031 It’s all in the mind : Peace

Peace

I felt love,
I felt happiness,
And I felt beautiful.

I felt pains,
I felt jealousy,
And I felt rejections.

Depending on the mood and whims of the wind,
I flew like a dust,
And now I land in your feet seeking for peace.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

030 It’s all in the mind : The Cactus Plant

The Cactus Plant

Test me with your heat,
Test me with extreme thirst,
I am a survivor,
I am filled with thorns,
Thorns that look tiny to the eyes, But can cause piercing pains,
On your feet as you trample on me,
I thrive in extreme condition,
And yet blooming beautifully,
I am the cactus plant.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

Education and Financial Independence for Woman

Education and Financial Independence for Woman

An article by Monica Ingudam


As we celebrate Woman’s day today, I would like to thank my parents and all the parents who have given the gift of education and raising a girl child with gender equality despite the economic background. The best gift any child could receive is the gift of education which would last a lifetime with the knowledge gained, but also giving a path to attain financial independence.

Financial independence for a woman plays a very important role to live in dignity, to voice the mind, to get the freedom to do little things in life, little things that matters in your heart, lifting your self-esteem and confidence. It’s a whole different charm and satisfaction to do things for yourself or for your love ones with your own hard earned money, than it is doing by asking or begging someone or even getting it as a gift.

For “many woman” who are financially dependent, she is faced to accept decisions and whims of the bread winner of the family. Though she may be contributing and managing the home front with excellence, her life gets compromised in many ways. Her voice getting drowned, not heard and finally silenced, reducing her status to a programmed robot, a human robot taking commands with the only freedom to shed tears.

Some may argue this is not always the case and I agree. But if you ever fall in the category of the “many woman” and you are equipped with “Education”, you have the “choice” to attain financial independence pursuing your career to sustain yourself, free yourself, find your voice, and live a life with dignity.

~The End ~

This post is dedicated to all my young student listeners to pursue your education no matter what. There is a time and place for everything and now is your time to study.

This article, though edited was featured in the March 2014 issue of “Northeast Today” magazine, page 57.  Thanks “Northeast Today” for featuring my thoughts on celebrating womanhood.

 

 

A Short Story 006 : Love and Mother’s words

Love and Mother’s words

A short story by Monica Ingudam


It all started from a phone call I received from an unknown number one evening as I am walking from the laboratory to my hostel. After the initial awkward silence trying to figure out who is on the other side of the call, I realized he is one of the senior guy whom I had called “Da” (big brother). I saw him in some common friend’s gathering during my recent trip back home in Manipur. I never understood why he called me that day though he said, it was just to know each other (“Sum KhangNaSe toubanida“) as he was going around with a beautiful girl and I was going around with someone. It was a tiring day and I was in fact very annoyed with his call and tried to find out who shared my number with him. It’s irritating when your friends give out your number without informing.

Before I knew it we started talking everyday, chatting in whatsapp, skyping video calls. And I felt this strong attraction towards him, almost gave a high in me, a feeling which I never felt before. My moods started becoming good or bad depending on how our conversations went that day and he slowly became my world. It was initially denial, fighting with myself with these conflicting feelings as I was seeing someone else. It was the same for him with his girlfriend. I tried staying away from him, tried to make things work with my boyfriend. But I just thought about him even being with my boyfriend, I kept seeing his face, kept hearing his words. Though it was a painful phase, I broke off with my boyfriend. And he did the same with his girlfriend. And with time and healing, we were free to love. I continued calling him “Da” (big brother) and he became my lover, a form of addressing which is quite common in the place where I come from.

I was in Pune doing my Post graduation and he was in Kolkata doing PHD. We had this connection even though we haven’t met each other nor have gone out for a date. We had this virtual dates where we had walked together as it rained in Kolkata, looked at each other’s eyes via video chats melting my heart, he sang for me, said words that stirred me and made me feel like a woman bringing the best smile in me making me feel beautiful. This continued for months and we had to meet to see if it’s real. After multiple attempts of planning, finally we were to meet in Imphal, our hometown.

I was nervous and excited, planned every details on what to wear, when and where we will meet. I was not sure how we will feel about each other when we meet in person “Maybe this is all virtual”. I landed in Imphal airport and walked out trolleying my luggage when I saw him standing tall next to my brother. He looked at me and smiled and I could feel this strong thick attractions pulling me towards him. I felt like walking in a dream. We just exchanged glances, exchanged looks that said a lot but didn’t get a chance to talk to each other as I had to go home with my brother. We meet for our first date at Poana Plaza restaurant at Poana Bazaar, requested my favorite songs to be played, making me feel like dancing with him and be in his arms. He held my hands for the first time and it was bliss, just bliss touching every nerve in my body. We didn’t have any words to say and our eyes said everything. I felt so happy and thought to myself “Oh this is how love feels”. Our relationship took to the next level where we spoke of a life together.

I returned to Pune and he stayed back in Imphal for longer. He was very happy and he spoke of telling his family about me. I knew something was not right when he stopped calling me, wouldn’t answer my calls and have even blocked me at whatsapp. It worried me sick and finally when we spoke, I found out that his mother rejected the proposal. She rejected me and told him that he can choose any girl in the whole world except a girl from that family, my family. Upon digging there was some family history going back to my grandparents times which caused the rift and hatred. I was heartbroken with the rejection. And he was torn between our love and his mother’s words.

I had built this wall with my ego on this rejection thinking “I am beautiful, qualified and why should I go to a family who have rejected me, I deserve better”. I had all the good reasons to walk out of this relationship but my heart just wouldn’t agree with my thoughts. Some days I understood his situation being torn between 2 of his favorite woman and felt sympathetic but most days, I am angry, very angry that he wouldn’t stand for me, fight for me, do something, do anything and make me his woman. We have this phase of disappearing and reappearing in each others lives starting with a simple casual “hi” and ending with passionate talks. The disappearing phase seem so empty and painful making the reappearing phase irrestible making me give in just to hear his voice, read his words fighting my mind which echoed loud and clear “There is no future”. We see no future and yet we can’t keep away from each other. I don’t know how our story will end and how long this forbidden love will go on. I just know that I love him.

~The End~


LIFE’S THIS & THATMonicaIngudam

Collection of short stories written by Monica Ingudam. These stories are based on Life’s this and that focusing on Manipur and the people of Manipur.


 

A Short Story 005 : “Memma Chenkhre” (The married lady who eloped with the Bachelor)

“Memma Chenkhre” (The married lady who eloped with the Bachelor)

A short story by Monica Ingudam


It was the talk of the “Leikai” (community) that a married woman, mother of 5 children eloped with the handsome “Pakhang” (Bachelor). And such stories flies really fast from leikai to leikai, “Keithel” (market) to “pan dukan” (small pan shop). As I was browsing vegetables in the Keithel, I heard the story and people passing judgment, severe judgment on moral grounds, calling names to the woman “Nupa Phabi” “Oktabi” “tou-ngumbi” (woman who catches/traps guys, loose woman etc.).

They were talking about me. I got married when I was a teenager. My husband worked in a government office. I knew nothing about him before I married him but it was one of the common event of eloping on the first meeting arranged by friends on words that the guy is very good, working, from Imphal and life will be good “Nupa do yam phabani, thabak tourabani, Imphal dagine, nakhuta hamaga charani“. I grew up in a village in Manipur, life was hard with farming and Imphal sounded very attractive. We had exchanged couple of letters, unspoken shy glances on the road, prior to our first meeting which lead to the eloping event.

I got married, got pregnant almost immediately. Before the life of marriage sunk in, I was coping with this new changes in my body with morning sickness, constant emotional battle with mood swings. And my husband had worse mood swings than me besides being drunk, breaking and throwing things in the house which slowly transitioned to beating me up. And his mood swing would be triggered by anything from food not ready when he came back from work even on days he came earlier than usual to his drinking water was not warm enough. It was a constant struggle with him, finding fault in everything I did.

I had my first kid, a beautiful daughter. But he wasn’t happy. He wanted a son. Before we knew we had 5 children, a child almost every year. I was a mother of 5 children before my mid twenties. He had a voracious sexual appetite and crossed lines of dignity in getting his needs, irrespective of my health or mental condition, after beating me, in front of the kids, fingering and dragging me in front of other people to get his needs. He was rough in his ways, too rough tearing me inside out. My body took a toll with multiple child birth, satisfying his needs, his beatings and the mental trauma.

I didn’t have a place to go, not even my parents. I didn’t have any money. I saw no other ways other than to stay strong and raised my little kids who looked at me with eyes filled with fear. We grew up together, stayed a life of fear and did everything to please him. The little ones would come running shouting “Baba Lakle” (father is on his way) warning so that we can be prepared to set his food, water, clothes ready for his likings and the kids learnt to go out to the other room pretending they don’t hear anything, when he starts acting up to get his needs. And I would run and hide to escape his beatings and come back after my kids will signal that he has cooled down.

Time passed and my life took a turn after I was forced to seek work to feed the family after my husband was suspended from work. I started going out of the house to work and started earning. It was a newfound freedom, freedom to fulfill little things in life, have little surprises for my children. It gave me self esteem and I found a voice to fight back my husband. I had this confidence that I could survive without depending on my husband and surprisingly he stepped back. It’s true but financial independence can change one’s life.

Time passed, and my first daughter got married and I felt satisfied seeing my children growing up and getting independent. We had this closeness after going through so much that we could communicate through our eyes. I have crossed my forties when I met the “Pakhang” (Bachelor). Despite my situation, the age gap there was this unspoken connection from the first time we met. After being in denial, fighting myself, fighting the conflicting thoughts of society norms and moral, we fell hopelessly in love, a love which I never felt before giving me such happiness. After months of conflicting thoughts, with my first daughter speaking more with her eyes than her words “Ema, nung chatlo. Eiena loina yengshunge” (Mother you go, I will look after every thing) one evening I eloped.

My children and grand children visits me in my home, the small hut far far away from Imphal. I am looked down and spitted on by society. And I continue living my life taking one day at a time. Life is a struggle and never perfect but I am happy and at peace.

~The End~


LIFE’S THIS & THAT

MonicaIngudamCollection of short stories written by Monica Ingudam. These stories are based on Life’s this and that focusing on Manipur and the people of Manipur.


 

029 It’s all in the mind : Cold and Beautiful

Cold and Beautiful

There is always a price you have to pay,
One way or another for the beautiful things in life,
You would fall in love all over again and again,
Every time you see the beautiful white snow falling,
Making it irresistible,
Making you drop everything to play with it as it falls,
Giving you immense happiness in that moment,
But paying the price of the bitter cold that follows,
By now you know the pattern,
And yet, you will fall all over again willing to bear such bitter cold.

~The End~

Photograph taken today, watching the beautiful snow falling.

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

028 It’s all in the mind : Words

Words

When you get a moment which you can truly call your own,
Witnessing the beauty of nature,
Bringing out life’s enchanting thoughts,
Stirred by words,
Beautiful words written for you,
Words whispered to you,
You tightly cling to it,
As they become words for your soul,
Giving light in your darkness.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.