In Manipur's shadowed land, on a fateful May day,
A rally of peace turned to war’s cruel play.
The Meiteis struck first, with a fire's fierce spark,
Burning a memorial, igniting the dark.
Meira Paibi, with hearts turned to stone,
Spurred young men to crimes, chilling the bone.
Innocence shattered by violence and dread,
A man’s life taken, his blood fiercely shed.
His wife and daughter, in humanity's wane,
Paraded in torment, bearing the stain.
Villages torn asunder, homes burnt to ground,
The cries of the tribal, a sorrowful sound.
Churches in ashes, faith scorched in the blaze,
Lives left in ruins, in dark, endless maze.
The path to the airport, a perilous flight,
For Meitei’s wrath lingers, day into night.
Yet amid this bleak torment, a flicker of light,
A whisper of hope in the blackest of night.
The Lord, our strength, in these desolate times,
Guiding our hearts through the darkest of crimes.
Though the pain is immense, and the suffering wide,
With faith as our armor, we stand side by side.
For in unity and hope, our spirits are bound,
And the Lord’s grace will lift us from the ground.
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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