In erstwhile Manipur's hills and valleys side,
A tale of pain, the Kukis cannot hide,
Forced from homes, with tears and fearful sighs,
Their cries echo, through the troubled skies.
Burnt villages, charred and gray,
Lives lost, futures faded away,
Displacement camps, a temporary fate,
People scattered, as fate awaits.
Innocent lives, caught in crossfire's might,
A cycle of violence, a never-ending night,
For peace and calm is a distant dream,
The Kukis suffer, their story unseen.
The rich culture now dimmed by violence,
As voices silenced hopes remain astray,
For the Kukis suffer, day by day.
But we still they hold on to our pride,
The resilience is a beacon inside,
The Kukis will rise, because our story is TRUE.
Thingkho Le Malcha (TLM) is a traditional method of communication used to send out messages across the Kuki hills during the Anglo-Kuki War,1917-1919... more
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