Out of 28 years of my life, I have spent more than 12 years in Manipur, my father being a Manipur cadre IPS officer. Curfews, bandhs and road blockades were a regular part of my life there. From bandhs called by the public to force the government into accepting their demands, ranging from granting inner line permit to abolishing AFSPA to curfews imposition, people of Manipur have seen it all.
Protests, closed markets, limited supplies and exorbitant prices of essential goods, were some of the unfortunate consequences. Buying day to day things, from cooking gas to petrol, through the black market at an inflated price was something the people were used to on a regular basis. There were months of blockades of roads leading to no supply of goods from other States. Whatever remaining fresh fruits or vegetables were available, they were brought in through flight cargos raising their prices even higher.
As they say, give a man some money and you’ll feed him for a day. Teach him a skill and you’ll feed him for a lifetime. In Manipur, people took this to their heart. From cooking their food on wood fire to growing their own vegetables and raising their own chicken, they persevered.
Manipuris are a tough lot. Their staple food being rice, dal and eromba (local chutney), their demand for market goods wasn’t really high. Moreover, relying on their neighbours for supplies and sharing food within the community brought people close to one another, increasing the feeling of safety, belonging and unity.
The daily curfews and bandhs left people with a lot of time in their hands, much like the situation we are finding ourselves in these days, because of the 21-day lockdown. Back in those times, there was no internet, no smartphones, only television, board games and months of closed school, offices and suspended normal life, which somehow served to bring people closer as a family. “Jungle mai mangal” as some people called it, was their motto, enjoying the best of the situation to their advantage.
However, we Mayangs, aka the non-Manipuri Indians, were dependent on a million other things even for our basic staple diet. From food, entertainment and transport, to almost every aspect of our lives, we depended on something or someone; be it the government, States or other people. Self-reliance was a long-forgotten dream for us. We’d sooner hope for some divine intervention to save us from our misery than do something about it ourselves.
Spending a substantial part of my life in Manipur has given me a lot of experience and patience. From meeting my female friends for 15 minutes because there was a curfew from 5pm that could last a few weeks, to going out in a bulletproof car with armed guards, are a few things I haven’t, and probably won’t, experience anywhere else.
Today, I see my friends troubled and counting down days for this lockdown to be over so that they can finally go out, while my dear friends from Manipur are going about their day, as usual, spending time with their family and making the most of the situation as always. As I sit at home with my family laughing, bonding, barbecuing and making up for the time lost running around in this busy world, I can’t help but thank the years I spent in Manipur for teaching me that you can turn just about anything around if you have the will and the right spirit to do so.