Poetry

Reuters photo

By

Uiba Mangang

Cold Kashmir’s Cry

No wonder, though the ice falls the whole year

Cry fills the long icy ranges with fear.

Though the cold snow falls throughout the seasons

Oft warm bloods splash without enough reasons.

The winter‘s so aching and numbing -yet

Ruder is the wind of hatred and fight.

Though the songs are sweet and quite melodious

None wishes to hear the strains so ominous.

In the valley of battles and bombards

All’s fixed to be departed and singled,

In the cruel tempest of terror and raids

Cold weather never works calm but mingled.

There’s no use for condolence or revenge

Whereas enmity prevails in the range.

Nothing Truth to Tell

Someone is driven

Into a forest,

Being insisted

To tell the truth.

From full liberty and freedom

To freedom to speech

All are granted

Even up to the intensity

Like that of the natural noises

That care none,

Into the forest.

That creature seems

Having nothing to tell

For there’s nothing

Nothing truth to tell

Into the forest.

Every part of the body

Is given the right

To tell the truth

And you are compelled

To tell the truth,

Still there’s nothing

Nothing truth to tell,

Into the forest

Where it’s destined to dwell there.

Uiba Mangang

I was born on the 9th September, 1973 (biological) in Charangpat Village of Thoubal District in Manipur. I’ve got teaching experience of more than 19 years in High and Higher Secondary Schools in and outside our state. I have written more than 100 (hundred poems) in Meeteilon/Meiteilon (Manipuri language, more than sixty-seventy poems in English, a few short stories and short plays (one had been played) and more than 200 (two hundred songs) which have all not yet been publicised in any form. I used to be a theatre artist and dramatist under EMMA Theatre, Manipur. Writing is my passion particularly poetry writing. Now I am living by hand to mouth in the struggle of life.