Mourning for Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculptor artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery of Manipur.

August 20, 2017August 29, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

Mourning for Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculptor artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery of Manipur.

As we are nearing the completion of five years of FindingTheVoices, I was reflecting on moments that made FindingTheVoices real, moments that gave meaning to my quest and vision to continue FindingTheVoices.

Yesterday I shared a picture in Facebook sharing a moment “It broke my heart to see the crumpling condition of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Imphal, Manipur.”

#5years #FindingTheVoices #Manipur #29Sept2012 #LookingBack #Moments It broke my heart to see the crumpling condition of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Imphal, Manipur.

Then I shared another picture of another moment “I was truly touched and felt connected by the way Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery calling me “Sana” instead of my name. Sana, literal meaning is gold but it’s a way of addressing someone with love in Manipur. And I had forgotten this beautiful way of addressing.” I remember my mother fondly sharing about her childhood “Oh, when I grew up, I was Ebemma at home.”

Staying away from Manipur for 25 years now, I have missed experiencing many of the beautiful ways of life in Manipur. The journey of FindingTheVoices have been very fruitful and enriching to me as a person, striking a deep chord in taking pride of my origin and roots.

#5years #FindingTheVoices #Manipur #29Sept2012 #LookingBack #Moments I was truly touched and felt connected by the way Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery calling me “Sana” instead of my name. Sana, literal meaning is gold but it’s a way of calling someone with love in Manipur. And I had forgotten this beautiful way of addressing.

Sir Laba Yambem commented on the post sharing the news about the passing of the main artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery.

I got confirmation of the sad, very sad news that Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma passed away on August 12, 2017. He was born on September 24, 1955. The news filled me with such grief, regret and anger. His passing is a big loss to Manipur, a big loss to the community of sculptor artists of the world.

It is my deepest regret that we have failed him in recognizing his talent and giving him the support to nurture his inborn gifted talent. It gave me goosebumps when he shared about seeing the vision of what to carve when he sees the raw roots at nights and hence he worked mostly at nights. He didn’t have a blue print for any of his sculptors, it was all in his mind which he carved.

I saw a true artist seeing the blessing of such talents in Manipur. His sculptors conveyed the deepest meaning in art form with important relevance to the history and people of Manipur. But it broke my heart to see the crumbling gallery, the beautiful artwork smudged with dust from the fallen ceiling. It made me think of the art gallery in other places where artwork are kept with such value, boxed within glasses, guards closely monitoring the many lined up visitors from touching the artwork.

His vision of what he wanted to carve is truly inspirational but we have failed him to provide a platform and nurture his talent.

If you haven’t heard about Three Mothers Art Gallery, that is the first failure point. Why haven’t you heard about it ? Why don’t you know about the artist? Where are the visitors lining up to see his artwork? Why is his artwork not promoted? Where are the promotions? Why is his gallery crumpled? Shouldn’t his artwork display be one of the main display for tourist spot in Manipur?

Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma (September 24, 1955- August 12, 2017) gifted sculptor artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery, Manipur passed away. He was just 61 years old. He had dreams, many unfulfilled dreams. I have failed him. The people have failed him. Manipur has failed him. India has failed him.

I implore you to visit Three Mothers Art Gallery, Wangkhei, Thangapat Mapal Palace Compound, Imphal East, Manipur and seek your help and support for elevating Three Mothers Art Gallery in Imphal.

Monica Ingudam, founder of FindingTheVoices, A weekly talk show with the vision to promote positivity in the conflicted land of Manipur. Monica Ingudam is based in Maryland, Unites States and is originally from Manipur, the Indian state.

Waakhal 006: IS Konthoujam, an attempt to contest for the president of India. #Manipur #President #India #2017

July 15, 2017July 23, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

IS Konthoujam sharing his experience of his attempt to contest for the President of India. He spoke about his aspirations, the process and reaction from the people and MPs/MLAs.
#Manipur #President #Aspirant #India #2017 
"...Conditions is that they want money ..."

IS Konthoujam hails from Ningthoukhong, Bishnupur district of Manipur heads an NGO called D-Cacus Education Centre.

About FindingTheVoices: Born and raised in the violence-torn landscape of Manipur, I have a vision to promote and spread inspiring, empowering, educative & entertaining stories. I believe that we can create contents bringing the positive side of Manipur. I believe we can do this together by finding the voices, voices which needs to be heard and shared, voices of our own people, people of Manipur and well-wishers of Manipur. I believe that these voices will bring a change and connect all of us. I welcome you to join me in my journey to finding the voices at Http://FindingTheVoices.com/

FindingTheVoices with Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, Reality of the status of artists in Manipur.

July 8, 2017August 29, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

FindingTheVoices with Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, Reality of the status of artists in Manipur. (Part 2)

Guest Speaker : Mr.Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Manipur.
Language: Interview in Meiteilon/Manipuri.

Location: Three Mother’s Art Gallery, Imphal, Manipur, India

Catch up the first part of the interview at FindingTheVoices with Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Manipur.

This is the second part of our interview with extremely talented artist Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma and we are joined by special guest and biggest supporter of our show, Madam Saroj Nalini Ingudam.

All of Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma’s marvelous creations are housed inside a broken down hall that is used as a gallery/museum. One wonders what all of the amazing sculptures are doing in such a poorly constructed hall, with broken floors and cracked walls. How awesome the sculptures would look if all of them were encased inside glass boxes with royal cursive labels and put on display for the world to see. The surrounding definitely does no justice to the beauty and imagination captured by the artist in these sculptures made out of huge roots.

Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma had so much hope of establishing a decent gallery/museum to showcase his creations for the people, but the total lack of support and ignorance from the government officials left him frustrated. Mr. Shyamsunder shared his hope and dreams for a brighter future for his gallery and work.

In this episode, the artist talks about a beautiful sculpture that he presented to a Director General of Shillong. The sculpture portrays many famous personalities such as Paona Brajabashi, Maharaj Tikendrajit, signing of the merger agreement by Maharaj Budhachandra, a smiling Queen Elizabeth wearing her famous royal jewels, just to mention a few. He has also presented many other sculptures to other government bodies. The DG’s office in Shillong alone has around 30 sculptures and the IGAR’s office in South Mantripukhri has around 38 sculptures.

About FindingTheVoices:

Born and raised in the violence-torn landscape of Manipur, I have a vision to promote and spread inspiring, empowering, educative & entertaining stories. I believe that we can create contents bringing the positive side of Manipur. I believe we can do this together by finding the voices, voices which needs to be heard and shared, voices of our own people, people of Manipur and well-wishers of Manipur. I believe that these voices will bring a change and connect all of us.

I welcome you to join me in my journey to finding the voices at Http://FindingTheVoices.com/

FindingTheVoices with Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Manipur.

July 1, 2017August 29, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / 1 Comment

FindingTheVoices with Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma, sculpture artist of Three Mothers Art Gallery in Manipur. (Part 1)

Guest Speaker : Mr.Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma.
Language: Interview in Meiteilon/Manipuri.

Location: Three Mother’s Art Gallery, Imphal, Manipur, India

We are at the Three Mothers Art Gallery at Thangapat Mapal, Imphal. The museum has an enormous collection of wood sculptures carved out of wood stems depicting various animals, from reptiles to ocean life. To add more meaning to the beauty, most of these sculptures tell a story, carved onto them by the very talented and hardworking artist, Mr. Gurumayum Shyamsunder Sharma. According to the artist, the three mothers as stated in the name symbolize the three mothers in a person’s life. The first is the woman who gave birth, the second is mother Earth and the third is the mother tongue of the person.

Mr. Shyamsunder started the art of wood carving at the age of 10. At first, he learnt making mud sculptures from his grandfather whilst assisting him. Later on, he applied his skills in making sculptures out of wood stems. The idea of making sculptures out of wood stems dawned upon him one night when he saw a shadow of the roots of a tree cast on a wall. He says that he gets more creative at night as a result. The beautiful stone sculptures of the Greeks and the Romans were an inspiration for him. The amount of details carved in the stones was astonishing to look at.

In this episode, the artist also talks about a few sculptures he created. One of them is a woman in chains with one of her hands cut off. The chains symbolize the state of Manipur under the British Rule and the cut off hand represents the loss of Kabaw Valley to Burma.

About FindingTheVoices:

I welcome you to join me in my journey to finding the voices at Http://FindingTheVoices.com/

Waakhal 005: Nivedita Barthakur “If a shalwar or a saree is allowed, Jainsem should also be allowed.” #Discrimination #Racism

June 27, 2017June 29, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

"You are not alone" a series of FindingTheVoices dedicated to Tailin Lyngdoh from Meghalaya.
#Discrimination #Racism 
#DignityOfProfession

Nivedita Barthakur "If a shalwar or a saree is allowed,Jainsem should also be allowed."

A governess from Meghalaya was allegedly shunted out  of Delhi Golf Club for "looking like a maid". Tailin  Lyngdoh, who was wearing a Jainsem, a dress worn by the indigenous Khasi women in her state, was told by    club officials that she needed to vacate the place as maids are not allowed. The staff commented that she looked like a maid, she looked like a Nepali.

About FindingTheVoices: Born and raised in the violence-torn landscape of Manipur, I have a vision to promote and spread inspiring, empowering, educative & entertaining stories. I believe that we can create contents bringing the positive side of Manipur. I believe we can do this together by finding the voices, voices which needs to be heard and shared, voices of our own people, people of Manipur and well-wishers of Manipur. I believe that these voices will bring a change and connect all of us. I welcome you to join me in my journey to finding the voices at Http://FindingTheVoices.com/

FindingTheVoices with Dr. Ajit Lukram, coming back from UK to work for Manipur.

June 10, 2017October 11, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

FindingTheVoices with Dr. Ajit Lukram sharing about breast cancer survivors in Manipur.(Part 1)

Guest Speaker : Dr. Ajit Lukram, Consultant Surgeon, Shija Breast and Thyroid Clinic, Shija Hospitals.
Language: Interview in English.

Location: Imphal, Manipur, India

It was such an empowering and proud moment to hear Dr. Ajit Lukram, Consultant Surgeon share about the successful story of breast cancer survivors in Manipur. Yes, Manipur has the facility, infrastructure, highly skilled qualified personnel to diagnose, screen and treat breast Cancer at Shija Hospitals. He spoke with such passion and dedication for his profession of saving lives from Breast Cancer. I learned so much about Breast Cancer.

Also, It’s really encouraging to see the power of passion and love for one’s birthplace, striving the best to save and improve the quality of life, elevating the progress of Manipur. It left me inspired that he came back from UK to work for Manipur. It’s even more inspiring that Shija Hospitals has the platform to provide and absorb such talents giving hope to many educated professionals in returning to Manipur.

Yet another strong voice to show that many are striving towards progress.

About FindingTheVoices:

I welcome you to join me in my journey to finding the voices at Http://FindingTheVoices.com/

A Short Story 014 : Tharo-Angoubi

May 30, 2017May 31, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / Leave a comment

Tharo-Angoubi

A short story by Monica Ingudam

It was the summer of 1977 at Kwakeithel, Imphal, Manipur. I was teaching at a school and came back home during the break time to check on my children. It was a calm scorching day. The roads were empty and I could hear the sound of my creaking chain as I bicycled.

Suddenly I saw one very angry woman and 4 men talking loudly with each other. There were other local people watching them. As the voice got louder, more people started coming out. I didn’t dare to stop though I was curious as to what was the issue. I continued cycling and after couple of gates, I saw Eche Memma standing at her “Konthong” (gate) looking worried and nervous judging from her gestures and eyes. I stopped my second-hand black bicycle and walked towards Eche Memma and asked “What happened? Is there any problem in the “Leikai” (community) that many people are outside at this time?”

Eche Memma came nearer and whispered “Ebemma, one young girl came running inside our house and she is hiding underneath our bed. And all these people are searching for her.”

“Why are they searching for her? Do you know what is her name?”

“She said her name is Tharo-Angoubi and she is from Wangkhei. She looks very simple and I am guarding her. I don’t know why they are chasing her and they don’t know that she is in my house. And I am not going to let these mob enter my house. But I don’t know what to do. I am afraid of the unpredictable nature of mob.”

I can understand Eche’s concern. We have seen mob going out of control and reducing a house to nothing in no time without understanding what is going on. We may be overreacting but things could turn to any direction. I panicked on the possible outcome and heard myself saying “Eche, I want to meet the woman. Please can you help me cross the bamboo bridge to reach your home.”

Eche Memma’s house is beyond a big drainage and there is a bamboo bridge made of 3 big bamboo stick. I was also afraid of crossing the small bridge in the fear of falling into the drainage. Who would want to fall into a drainage filled with the remains of every household’s toilet in that Leikai. I parked my black bicycle on the road side and Eche helped me cross the bridge. I took support of her hand and walked.

We went hurriedly to her mud house with broken walls revealing the underneath bamboo and thatched roof. When I heard the name, I suspected of someone I knew and true enough when I saw her face, I recognized her. She is none other than Tharo-Angoubi with whom I did Masters under JNU (Jawaharlal Nehru University, Delhi). We studied together at one of the classroom of DM college campus in Imphal. We were not the best of friends but we knew each other. We were the first batch of JNU affiliated for students of Manipur.

I saw her shivering with her body curled up on her knees, half beneath the bed, with her hands on a tattered reed mat. I ran towards her and said “Tharo-Angoubi, what happened?”. She seemed slightly relief seeing a known face and replied “Eibu amukta kanbiyu (Please help me!)”

She crawled out of the bed and sat fully on the tattered reed mat. I hugged her instantaneously feeling a pang of pain seeing her condition with her eyes filled with fear and said “Don’t worry. What happened?”

I told her not to worry but my mind was blank and I didn’t know what I was getting into and how I can help her.

Tharo-Angoubi started sharing “I had joined a “Marup” (Chit-fund). I was supposed to get the INR 10K three months ago. But I haven’t got any money. I am now a vendor of “phige phanek” (local meitei silk sarong) and she took 2 of the phige phanek and didn’t give the money for that too. I had planned to repay off some debt after getting the marup money and things got really hard with people coming at home asking for their money back. I couldn’t effort to loose the money she owed me. I had borrowed her gold ear-ring for going for a marriage and I didn’t give her ear-ring back. And these people are behind me because of that.”

“Who is she?”

“She is the woman who leads the marup. She has hired these men to come behind me. I didn’t give back her ear-ring thinking that I will give it back only after she will give me my marup-money and the money for the 2 phige phanek.

Please can you help me get out of this house and drop me to a nearby house I know. I will be safe there. It’s a house of my relative and they can protect me.”

Her eyes pleaded and I was the only option at that instant. I had made up my mind to help her when I saw her first though I didn’t know how to. I remembered that those men were sitting 3 houses away and I knew that we could bend down and escape behind the bamboo woods crossing through the back of the neighbor’s house. My heart started to beat faster and without saying a word, I signaled her to follow me.

We went at the back of the house towards the bamboos, crossed over to the neighbors. Most houses were not fenced with concrete like now, it was mostly “sambalei” plants as fence. I don’t know how fast or slow we went, but we jumped through the bamboo woods, crossed the isolated back of the houses with creepers and dried fallen leaves creaking as we stepped on, the places where we never dared to get out at noon for fear of snakes crawling and the many latrines with buzzing flies. Let me tell you a bit about the latrines. It was an open hole with a plank of wood or two or three bamboos where you can sit and do your business as soon as possible, probably with one hand closing the nose to spare from the stench and partially covering the mouth so that the buzzing flies won’t enter your mouth.

After crossing all these places in the peak of noon heat that summer, we reached a bend where we couldn’t see those men anymore. Then we looked sideways and crossed another Bamboo small bridge which touches the main road. I don’t know how we crossed it considering my fear on crossing such bridges but we crossed it. And we walked hurriedly through the mud road when I heard Tharo-Angoubi long breath with a sigh of relief and said “I can see the house. I can walk from here alone.”

I was tired and suddenly I felt the heat too. I didn’t offer to walk with her till that house and thought of my little ones at home. I needed to go back to the School too. I stood there for a bit and watched her walk away and saw her enter the gate made of 3 bamboo sticks. she removed the top 2 bamboo sticks and jumped over the bottom bamboo.

I turned and walked back to my house. I thought about how her life became. Tharo-Angoubi was a qualified Masters, couldn’t get a job and remained caught in the grip of poverty as many in Manipur. I thought of my life too. I was struggling to be a teacher in a School while my friends were teaching in Colleges. I didn’t have the money to pay the bribes to be in a college. I didn’t have to pay any bribe to become a teacher in this school and was happy that I even received a small increment because of my MA qualification but the other teachers protested. With the increment, my salary almost touched INR 200 per month. At that time, most teachers in the School were BA/BSc qualified. The protest made me extremely uncomfortable and I was in a dilemma of my career and future roadmap in this school.

I helped her escape that day from that angry woman and men but I never met her after that day. I walked into my house and saw my daughter sleeping soundly. I rushed backed cycling faster towards the school as I didn’t want to be late. The roads were empty and the woman and men were no longer there. All the local people have gone inside their houses. Every day is so unpredictable with many surprises. I didn’t know that I will meet Tharo-Angoubi under such tensed circumstances.

~The End~

LIFE’S THIS & THAT

Collection of short stories written by Monica Ingudam. These stories are fiction based on Life’s this and that focusing on Manipur and the people of Manipur. Based on a story as told by Ema, my mother.

A Short Story 013 : Oja Binodini

May 29, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / 3 Comments

Oja Binodini

A short story by Monica Ingudam

After my completion of Masters in Manipuri “Meitei Lon” literature way back in 1974 I joined Thambal Marik Girl’s High School in Imphal, Manipur. I was a teacher for 6 years in this school and I had a great teaching experience after my studies. Today I want to tell you the story of someone who stayed in my heart after all these ages.

Oja Binodini

It is about a teacher, “Oja” (teacher) Binodini. She was teaching in Science subject in the same school and was younger than me. With time, I developed a good rapport with her and we became closer sharing about our day to day joys and sorrows of life. Even though she was in science stream, her creativity level impressed me when I read her poems. I felt very special as she had gifted her precious books only to me amongst all the other teaching staff. With my high interest in literature, I read through her collections of poems as soon as I got the books. Pages turned and reading through her words of sadness and of broken heart, I wanted to know more about her. She was unmarried then, very simple and reserved in her spoken words . At that time she came to school riding her bicycle with her hair tied as one long plaid with ribbons at the end. Her favorite ribbon seem to be white and green. She wore a few pair of clothes repeatedly making me think that she doesn’t have many.

I had this special bonding with her and her way of life piqued my interest. I got to know more about her from one of my other colleague. She was an unfortunate young woman. Her father got remarried because her mother couldn’t bear a son. Yes, a son had the weightage even in a place like Manipur where women are portrayed to be kept at a high level. Her mother came back to her maternal home and Binodini tagged along with her mother at a young age of only 6 years. Her mother got remarried to another man and left her all alone at the age of 10 years.

Her poor but kind “Ene” (maternal aunt) who was into handloom weaving adopted her and brought her up. Ene didn’t have a husband or children, and she took care of Binodini and raised her as her very own. Binodini was very good in her studies and did what she can to be educated. She couldn’t buy her own books for her studies and she would borrow the text book from friends/library and copy the entire content of each books into a notebook neatly written in her cursive handwriting. She knew the condition of her “Ene” and did her level best to help out with household chores and even with the handloom weaving work. Ene was specialized in “Phi houba” (the initial set up of the threads for handloom weaving). She was shy and grew up by keeping to herself with no friends around.

When she passed first class in B.Sc. all the community of Kwakeithel was so proud and under the elder’s love and recommendation, she was appointed to be the teacher in a private School, Thambal Marik Girl’s High School. Of course she didn’t have the money to bribe and get a government job but she was very happy to get a job. Yes bribing didn’t start just today, it was already there then. During that time, first class in Science, specially by a woman was rare and many highly regarded her for her intelligence.

Her sincerity and reserved nature was taken for granted and the administrators of the School made her work overloaded and one day I saw her almost breaking down and she gave her resignation letter in the heat of emotions. The principal happened to mention it to me that Oja Binodini resigned and we consulted as to how to resolve the issue. I spoke to Binodini and calmed her down. She shared that her work is overloaded and wasn’t fair in comparison with other teachers of the school. After having understood the main reason of her resignation, I convinced her the importance of financial independence and empowerment of woman coming from a career and that we need to face any hurdles with patience and make a well balance decision thinking of the future. The Principal, Oja Binodini and myself had a meeting together and after much discussions, it was agreed that she withdraw the resignation and continue working as a teacher. The matter didn’t go beyond the three of us and the resignation process was nipped off.

Things went peacefully that same year until the final exam except for the usual gossips and politics amongst the teaching staff. The other teachers made faces and ridiculed Binodini’s style of dressing special using the ribbon on her hair. Oja Binodini started confiding in small things and I would try to lighten it by laughing it out and I think she liked that.

During the final exam, Nandini, the daughter of the Vice Principal failed in Science. Oja Binodini had marked Nandini’s paper and she scored only 8 out of 100. The Class teacher Oja Shama asked Oja Binodini of any possibility of increasing the marks and passing Nandini in the fear of facing the Vice Principal’s wrath. Oja Binodini said a straight “No”. After a couple of days she asked Oja Shama the final listing of marks in the report card of Nandini and found that Nandini scored 48 out of 100 in Science. Oja Shama had added a 4 in front of 8 making it 48. Binodini couldn’t take this insult and couldn’t take such muddied atmosphere, and that too in the institution of education where she believes that truth and honesty should be valued and kept high. She saw the report card, packed her few things, placed her books in the front basket of her black Hercules bicycle and rode off. I watched her from my classroom as she rode away with her long plaited hair, with her loose hair flowing and the end of the plaited hair, tied with white ribbon, fell near the seat of her bicycle. I wondered why she left early that day. I thought maybe she had some emergency at home.

Later I was filled in of the incident. Oja Shama cried and shared with me and few other teachers “Oja, I didn’t know that Oja Binodini would take it so seriously and leave. I was so scared of the Vice Principal with his shouting and yelling and thought it was best to pass his daughter.”

Oja Binodini never came back the next day and I found that she resigned and left. Officially, no one knew what lead to her resignation. The result was out and Nadini was promoted to the next class. After some weeks, on hearing that Oja Binodini was seriously ill and seven of the teachers including me decided to go together and visit her. We contributed INR 10 each and bought a small bottle of Horlicks and one packet of biscuits. We walked to Kwakeithel, entered her bamboo house with thatched roof and saw Ene on the porch working on the threads for the loom. Seeing us Ene said that Binodini is not meeting anyone but she will go inside and ask her. Ene came out and said uncomfortably that Binodini is ready to meet only me but not the rest of the teachers. With an awkward look amongst us, the other teacher signaled for me to proceed and I took the plastic bag with Horlick and biscuit and went to her room. She was sitting on her bed wearing a green “Aloo eromba” phanek and I asked “Ebemma, how are you feeling? when are you coming back to school?”

She shook her head and said “Oja, I am not coming back”

She looked so deep in her thoughts. Such heavy and dark thoughts for a young and bright woman like her. Seeing her condition, I had more feelings but no more words to express. I mumbled “Ebemma, get well soon” and slowly walked out.

Nadini continued with her schooling uninterrupted. Oja Shama continued being a teacher. The Vice Principle continued to be grumpy and unappreciative of anything. My life went by but I did think of Oja Binodini time and again. I felt her pain in being betrayed by the situation, by the people. Our society and system is not ready for her honesty, dedication, straight forward but sensitive nature. I don’t know what has become of her. Oja Shama cries with guilt for what she has done. But whose fault was it? Only Oja Binodini was affected by the whole situation. Should she have exposed the whole situation? That would have led expulsion of Oja Shama. Or should she have stayed quite and played along? But she chose not to sell her soul and her belief. She gave up her job, a job that meant a lot to her and Ene.

~The End~

LIFE’S THIS & THAT

Collection of short stories written by Monica Ingudam. These stories are fiction based on Life’s this and that focusing on Manipur and the people of Manipur. Based on a story told by Ema, my mother.

FindingTheVoices with Laishram Meena Devi, artist from Manipur.

May 27, 2017September 17, 2017 / Monica Ingudam / 1 Comment

FindingTheVoices with Ms. Laishram Meena Devi, Expressions and Art. (Part 1)

Guest Speaker : Laishram Meena Devi, artist from Manipur.
Language: Interview in English.

Location: New Delhi, India

Life is a wonderful journey and the important thing is to always remember that there will be ups and downs, good times and bad times. Happiness and sadness go hand in hand together. One must never forget that no matter how hard life gets, it will always get better. However bad the phase is, we must remember that nothing lasts forever.

Our guest for this episode is Laishram Meena Devi, the youngest of four siblings, brought up in a multi-cultural society in Imphal. After her father’s untimely demise, Meena’s family fell into a financial crisis. They had lost their only bread earner. But fortunately, one of her brothers got a small job at Shopper’s Stop in New Delhi and was able to support the family. Meena was then sent to Delhi for her senior secondary schooling, and after completion of the course, she started working as a waitress at a coffee shop. She recalls the first day on the job, making coffee and serving everyone, standing all day long. She broke down crying later that night thinking about what had become of her life. But Meena had a hidden talent. She was a very talented painter since childhood. She knew she was good at it, but she had never thought of taking it up as a career. After about a year or so, she enrolled herself in the Bachelor of Fine Arts course at Jamia Hamdard College in New Delhi, but still worked part time at the coffee shop during the vacations to support her expenditures. She worked really hard and with strong confidence and determination, she secured the first position for the four year course. She then pursued for a Master’s degree in Fine Arts at the Delhi College of Art.

Today, Laishram Meena Devi is a very successful artist who creates lovely paintings, mostly of adorable children, recreating her memories from childhood in her locality. Her love and fondness for a multi-cultural society living in peace and harmony is reflected in her work.