Laban in Winter

I

I remembered you for your whitewashed walls and the old trees which grew in the old gardens;

This was the old world, before colour, and as a child I hated the monochrome ekra;

I shuddered behind feeble old people in their twilight chairs –

Which they had us push out into the winter-sun’s verandah;

I remembered your old people smell and the old people love for young kisses –

That world is gone now,

My grandfather is gone

And most of his nephews.

All that’s left is men stumbling in bars, secretly whispering desires to other men.

 

II

At kha-ieid‘s – under an old conifer with spiky cones – once I found a baby sparrow

I tried to protect it from the hounds –

Uncle Eric’s best mates.

Into the temple of my palms, I took it.

Suddenly from deep within me

A sudden impulse – to crush it into a feather ball – arose.

What stopped me, I wonder,

Was it the thought of blood that calmed my systole,

Was it the eventuality of squirming that blunted my lust?

Whatever it was, it quietened my mind;

I don’t know if the chick survived the season

But we both made it through that hour.

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Wan Phai Ban Pynbha Biang

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Sa shi sien, la kha biang ia me, la kynmaw ieid biang namar ba ki wah ki la rngat bad ki miet, kjam. Mynta ki sla ki la iap bad ki lum, syllen. La dei ka por wad jingkyrmen biang. Kumta hi ha ki sngi kha. Man u snem u wan noh ha PB, bad ki briew kim klet ban wan mane ia u. Ki wan dem ha me uba sympat ia ki nongkhayi; ha iew.

Ki thrang ban iohi ia ka jingwan arsien jong me. Kumno men wan? Kum ka eriong bad leilieh? Kum ka wait bad sum? Kum u jumai bad ding? Ne kum ka Pyrem bad ki sla jyrngam? Kum ka Erbatemon bad um pjah? Kum ka Jingkmen bad ki kot thymmai?

Wan, wan ban pynbha biang. Tangba lada me wan, kyrsiew shwa, kum ia u Lazarus, ia kito ki ba shah thang im ha ki por iakhih ki sengbhalang. Kyrsiew ia baroh kiba shah thombor tang namarba ki pher na ngi. Kyrsiew ia kito kiba pynrit mynsiem ha khmat kiba heh, kumjuh kiba shah bein tang namarba kim mane ia me. Kyrsiew khamtam ia ki dohnud maw jong ki nongbud jong me. Pynum ia u thah uba sop ia ki mynsiem jong ki.

Wan, wan ban pynbha biang. Ai biang ha ka Elaka Sutnga bad Elaka Narpuh ia ki tyllong um ba khuid, kibym ai jingpang ia kiba dih ne sum ha ki. Kumjuh ha Byrnihat bad Nongtalang.

Lada me wan ban pynbha shisha, pynbha ia kine ki khlur rit bad ophisar kiba shong ha khmat iingmane. Pyni ka dur shisha jong me ha ki. Ba me kham ia jan bad ki nongkhrong ban ia ki saipan, ba me shong bad ki nongdiekwai, ba mem pat ju poi sha Times Square, ba mem shym beh ia ka burom ne spah hapor ba me dang im ha pyrthei.

Lada me wan shisha, wan biang na trep na sem mrad; wan biang kum u nongpynim jong ka shnong ka thaw; u nongpyrsad mynsiem ia ka imlang sahlang; wan biang kum u nongpyllait im ia ki mraw.

Winter|Hope

How I waited all November for December to come.
How we struggled through that last exam with
Early morning revision and numb hands and cold faces –
Shivering but knowing that it would be over soon enough –
How we trained ourselves to hope back then.
Then, time to bring out the tops and strings and dares;
Time to roll about in dirt until cheeks cracked and

Noses ran when the sun was out; and if not, we crammed
Around the fireplace waiting for the small flame to ignite the coals and wood.

And we played dar-dar among the woods of the adjoining Juniorate – hiding in the strangest nooks.
We crowed at the sun like Lost Boys, we danced in a ring like Lost Boys –
Though we had no idea who they were nor were we boys only.

Nor was it always easy – winter – the neighbourhood
Always reminded me which family I belonged to.
I resented it bitterly but there I was –
Khasi stuck in my throat, wearing clean clothes everyday –
But when the games were in motion, we forgot all about that.
Under earth and leaves, I was like everyone else by the end of the day.

When they turned 16, some discovered cigarettes, sex and beer.
I didn’t – it frightened me then – winter – waiting for friends to go home.
And in the neighbourhood, no one was playing dar-dar anymore.