Rovi Chasie
(Some personal re-collections of the past 1 ½ years)
Gradually newspaper distribution began in earnest. With so much time at hand I was able to read every printed word. What struck me most were the various awards meted out to merit students of class X and class X11. During the 70s getting into top 10 was no big deal. I remember only receiving perfunctory congratulations with not much jubilation. After all, isn’t it a student’s duty to study and do well? Now, it seems, the government and the public and private organisations are going overboard with the ever increasing this award and that award. Is anyone monitoring this?
What about shifting focus to a very vulnerable section of our society? What about the women folks supplying and selling local organic products on the road side? How about not taxing them? How about giving them free bus passes once or twice a week to ferry their produce to town? How about some respite to the women toiling in the kitchen and in the field?
On the first day after Lockdown when the markets were allowed to open within a stipulated time, I was among the swarming crowd. Long before closing time two policemen came around telling the shopkeepers to close down. I looked at my watch and shouted back at them telling them to correct theirs as there was still one and half hours left. As the shoppers went into a frenzy I heard a vegetable vendor telling his customers to hurry up and buy their needs while Aunty is still around. I got a little taste of victory then but the flavour soon evaporated.
At the new NST area I saw a young man and a woman having an argument. I inquired as to what the matter could be the woman said the person allegedly from KMC was asking her to pay tax, as she was selling some poultry from Zubza brought in a hired van. I tried to reason with the young man and went away, unfortunately, he was able to extricate rs.500/- from the woman I was told. My heart sank. How is it that, on the one hand, the government was oozing with the milk of human kindness at Khuociezie [local ground] and on the other, did not even spare Old Mother Hubbard at the New NST? There is definitely a fracture here in the administration.
Just before Lockdown 2, the water supply to our colony was disrupted for about two months. One neighbour said the paani misteries told her, ‘nodi te paani suki shey’ [the river has dried up] another one said that the Controller had been infected by the virus. What nonsense the public is fed with at times by some people in the various government departments specially, the electricity dept and the PHED and we are resigned to “grin and bear’. Well, not me, I like to get to the bottom of things.
I landed at the PHED office and told the officer about a plan I had in mind, he in turn explained at length and with respect the problems he was facing. Besides the shortage of water he had numerous issues in administration, personnel, discipline and of course the pandemic. Listening to him my anger dissipated I gave him a watery smile and decided to leave without further ado. As I descended the long hobbit staircase I thought of my plan and reasoned with myself one step at a time. As I touched down I made up my mind not to compound the young officer’s miseries.
My magnificent plan was. I seriously contemplated mobilising my colony women battalion to march forward and take control of our water tank located in the forbidden area of the so called “friends of the Hills People’.
One evening as I was going about the household chores, the TV was on, I could not hear but could see the face of a local pastor he was looking ferocious and constantly kept flinging his arms. Almost frothing in the mouth he looked like he was about to go into a seizure. Good! I thought to myself, that is how a man of God should scare the Devil away. Alas, I was told that all the ranting was about his animosity towards certain govt policies. We Nagas can never agree on a single issue. What hope do we have of solving the biggest one staring at our faces? There are no beggars in Nagaland only people who demand.
Someone told me once, ‘you are educated and from a decent family, why do you keep shouting?’ I do believe I am educated and from a decent family, therefore, it is my inherent duty to shout with pleasure at anything unfair and unjust. In my opinion, just as long as we don’t take the law in our hands, at one point or the other, we should all be guardians of the law.
I confess I do go overboard sometimes because I call out to speeding vehicles in Kohima town, yes, even to the reckless police drivers who think they own the road. I learnt to say, ‘aram se’, long before Sidhu’s coach Park Tae-sans.
I hope I will always have the courage to say whatever I want to whomever, whenever and wherever I deem fit, within the ironical parameters of freedom, of course.
So, what next in this pandemic? Go on with our lives, live at best we can. Just as I would keep honing my skills at ‘belling the cat’, not a very dignified job for sure, but which I consider my prerogative, although at the risk of getting the ‘Khechera Maiki’ Award.
