It's supposed to be fall, The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness for all, Yet here we are cold, Both the young and old. The phenomenal concept of fall a beauty, Now an illusion for us in reality. Our hearts were turned cold in early May, Against our will gone are the days Of laughter, silly fights, friends and family, All but good old moments now a fantasy. Five months later it's fall, And whilst we're still homeless and lost, The wild aggressors are performing their all, With their lies and delusions at ALL cost. The approaching wintry nights has prodded Once again of our homes and rights encroached, Noel season few weeks away, How will our winter hearts make do now? Frost upon the window panes, Cozy nights with steaming tea and blankets, Warmth hearts beside a crackling fire, The winters we had now we desire.
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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